#and who wanted nothing more than a quiet life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foodfightnovelization · 2 days

Text

ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight

youtube

Holy chips! It's an exciting time to be a Foodfight! fan, because ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight is finally out! This really is THE definitive documentary on the insanity behind the movie, and it finally answers the question of just what was going on behind the scenes during production. Since I helped out with research (and I even get a short line of dialogue at 45:19) I've already seen everything that was shown off, but had to keep quiet until all the interviews were conducted and the documentary was finished. But now it's out and everything has been made public, the cat's out of the bag (the Fat Cat Burglar?) and I can talk about all the production material that's been shared.

Before I get into any of that though, I'd highly recommend you watch the documentary for yourself. It's insanely well researched and put together, and having worked together with Ziggy Cashmere (the documentary's creator) I know how hard he dedicated himself towards making this all possible. If it weren't for him, the most interesting Foodfight! discovery would've been finding the novelization, and we would have never gotten any real insight into how this movie came to be. It's also a documentary that really speaks for itself- I don't want to say too much about what it reveals since it's all expressed far better through its narrative and the interviews with people who actually worked on the project. My favorite is the interview with texture artist Mona Weiss- she tells such horrifying stories about how she was treated by Larry and other crewmembers, yet does it all with a sense of humor that makes it clear she's enjoying getting to talk about her crazy experiences. It's clear Foodfight! was an unmitigated disaster from start to finish, and there's nobody to blame for that but Larry Kasanoff himself. The movie was rotten from the top down and despite the countless talented animators and artists working on it, nothing could fix the fact that it was fundamentally mismanaged in the worst way possible. I think the quote from producer George Johnsen summarizes it best: "Foodfight! was a good idea that unfortunately lost its way during production. The technology, the art, and the direction were not in sync. Many very talented people gave their all to make the picture, but more understanding of process from the top was needed for it to succeed."

But if you saw the documentary, you already know all that, right? So instead, let's talk about the behind-the-scenes material that's finally been shared! You can find everything I'll talking about HERE on archive.org-

It's worth following the link and checking it out for yourself- there's so much it'd impossible to discuss everything. Artwork, storyboards, bloopers, models, a nude render of Lady X, an interview with Larry Kasanoff, the list goes on and it's still being updated! Despite the documentary already being out, people who worked on the movie are continuing to share new material! It's pretty incredible- for the past year I've ran this blog all I've really had to discuss are two tie-in books, and now there's so much Foodfight! material I can't even keep up with it.

I mean LOOK at all this, isn't it fantastic? The character art by Jim George showing off just how much better these designs originally were, the countless environments showing off just how stunning Marketropolis could've looked as well as the strength of the core idea "what if a supermarket came to life at night", and insanely detailed storyboards for a 7-minute pitch reel that was used to sell the movie to investors. Normally, I'd be ALL OVER this because it's all just incredible, but there's something far, FAR more fascinating than any of it.

There are even multiple drafts of the script (one from 2005 and one from 2007 respectively) and normally I'd be insanely fascinated by those too, making extremely detailed posts explaining the differences between the drafts and how they compare to the novelization, but there's something else that was found that blows ALL of this out of the water and is easily one of the most monumental lost media discoveries of ALL TIME.

youtube

That's right, a rough cut of the ENTIRE movie from 2005 has been found, containing nearly ALL the completed animation from earlier on in production. I mean, that's mindblowing right? We first got sent this around a month ago, a little while before the documentary came out, and I literally stopped everything I was doing at work to just sit and watch this. This is the closest we're ever going to get to the "original" version of Foodfight! after all- only 7 minutes of footage was ever actually made before they switched to mocap, made solely for the aforementioned pitch reel, and this workprint contains practically all of it! On top of that there are some great storyboards in here, as well as some truly hilarious ones cobbled together from 3D renders, and the plot is far better than what we ended up with, a lot of the more inappropriate jokes being absent. This rough cut is actually pretty similar to the novelization in that regard, and it also contains scenes that we'd previously only read about in there.

For example, in the novelization there's a snowmobile chase through the mountains, with Brand X soldiers on snowmobiles and a heavy avalanche close behind. This scene was completely left out of the movie itself, but in this workprint it's here! ALL the previously novelization-exclusive scenes are included, and this rough cut is seemingly based on an even earlier draft of the script than that- here Brand X are still defeated by a flood, whereas by the time of the novelization it'd been changed to a lightning storm. There are SO many exciting differences in this workprint, the snippets of original animation we get to see are SO good, and it's SO much better than the movie itself that I think it by far deserves the crown as the DEFINITIVE version of Foodfight! There's so much in it I want to discuss, that there's no way I can fit it all into this one post...so stay tuned, because in the next few days I'll be doing a FULL analysis of the 2005 workprint, pointing out all the extra brand mascots not in the finished film, and generally just gushing about how amazing it is.

I mean, this is it. Just take it all in for a second- the original footage was considered lost media for over a decade, and now it's practically been found in its entirety, embedded in an early cut of the whole movie...isn't that just phenomenal? All the mysteries have been unraveled, all the questions have been answered, and now we can relax, take a deep breath, and watch Foodfight!...the REAL Foodfight! Make sure to enjoy it, and join me next time for my analysis!

#Youtube #foodfight #dex dogtective #lady x #daredevil dan #polar penguin #rotten behind the foodfight

818 notes · View notes

lymtw · 1 day

Text

Thinking about those soft, nonsexual, intimate moments where you and Toji are lying in bed, with you on top of him. You're straddling him and your arms are thrown over his shoulders, clinging onto him like a little koala. Your face is buried into his neck and your eyes are shut as you bask in the warmth of his body.

"What's wrong, babe?" He asks, letting his arms come up to rest on your back. Having Toji's arms around you was like leaving every bad thing you've ever experienced, behind. He radiated the warmth of a thousand suns, and it soothed you like nothing else.

You didn't respond to his question, instead your lips pressed to his neck, brushing against him with the gentleness of a light breeze. You're smart enough to know that if you kiss him too hard, it'll start a fire in a moment where one isn't necessary.

He's smiling, softly, at your sign of affection. His palms rub your back, comfortingly, with little to no pressure. Toji is all for having sex with you, all the time and anytime. He's well versed in this method of intimacy with you, but he's not an emotionless machine. He recognizes well enough when you need more than an orgasm. He understands that you have a heart, and sometimes it needs to be tended to, regardless of whether it's damaged or not. Sometimes you just want to feel loved, and when times like these are presented to him, who is he to ridicule you for needing him?

He chuckles, softly. "Just wanna love on me, don't you, baby?"

His hands lower to the hem of your shirt, sliding beneath it to get to the warmth of your bare skin. The tranquilizing motions on your back return.

"Just need you to be with me, right now," you mumble into his neck. "I know this probably seems weird, but I just wanna stay like this for a while."

"Shh... you're alright, my sweet girl. We can be quiet for a bit."

You go back to lazily kissing his neck. You can feel his heartbeat thrumming against your lips, a rhythm that makes your own heart start to pick up that same pace. You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, pausing your movements to appreciate the distinct smell of his cologne. It makes you want to squeeze him until he can't breathe, or at least attempt to squeeze him that hard.

"Toji," you say, quietly, like you're saying it to yourself.

"Hm?" He responds, stilling his hands.

"Nothing. Just wanted to say your name. I like saying your name."

Another laugh rumbles through his chest, the movement shaking you a little. "It's yours to say."

"Can I keep saying it? Until it doesn't sound like a name anymore?"

He smiles, pulling one hand out of your shirt to place it on the nape of your neck. "By all means. Don't need my permission."

You giggle, the sound so clear beneath Toji's ear. If he had the warmth of a thousand suns, you had the beauty of the night's guiding moon.

"Toji," you say, softly. After every repetition of his name, you ghost your lips all over his neck. Toji thinks he could stay like this for longer than a bit. He feels at ease, knowing you're there, acting as his most cherished blanket. He feels so light, like he's not even in his body anymore. You don't even know how happy he is. You can't see the soft smile on his face and how it's failing to disappear.

"Toji," you repeated one last time.

He had lost track of how many times you said his name, but not once did he get tired of hearing it. He wanted to answer your call, this time. "Yeah, baby?"

"Love you."

In all your gentleness and loving, you offered him serenity, and he enveloped himself in it. If your love could be bottled, he would live off of it. He would cook it into his every day meals. He would blend it into his protein shakes. He would bathe in it. He would mix it with his cologne. He would live off of it like it's the secret to a life spent with you loving him the way you do. So what if he's addicted? It seems like the perfect way to go.

Toji could hear your light breathing. You stopped kissing him, and your arms went limp on his shoulders. You fell asleep. It was a common occurrence whenever you shared moments like these with him. It was the security, and his embrace, and his warmth, and his scent... all things that made you feel safe enough to doze off.

He pressed multiple quick kisses to your temple. Both of his arms returned to your torso, wrapping around it with a slightly tighter hold than before. "Love you, too, mama," he muttered against your temple. He ended up falling asleep to the sound of your breathing.

320 notes · View notes

maximotts · 2 days

Note

Number four with cowgirl Wanda please 😵‍💫 My free use queen

cowgirl Wanda my love my life 💖 uhmmm have some not so secret barn loft sex

cw: 18+ minors dni; smut, dry humping, strap-ons, previously agreed upon free use/dubcon if you really squint hard

"Do you want them to hear?"

“It was real sweet of you to come all the way down here just to bring me lunch.”

Wanda shouldn’t have been able to sound so innocent while tearing at your clothes, tugging the thin straps of your sundress from your shoulders just to let it fall and bunch at your waist. You also should’ve known better than to think she was innocently asking you to sit on your lap to ‘rest’ after finishing off the sandwich you’d brought her from the house.

Truly you’d known since she led you up to the barn’s hayloft, but Wanda left so early that morning, her side of the bed cold by the time you woke up, and you’d missed her terribly ever since. “Well I haven’t seen you all day, Wands. I needed to make sure you weren’t working yourself to death down here- ah!”

The brunette’s mouth latched onto your breast then, free hand coming to massage the other as you scrambled to keep yourself balanced. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t let you fall.”

The pair of you continued on like that for a while, Wanda keeping busy with sucking your tits as you tugged her tied back hair and stammered out praises. Impatient as you were, shaky hands fell to your girlfriend’s jeans, fumbling through unbuckling her belt just to grind your hips down to hers hard, silently begging for the strap on nestled between her legs.

“Always so needy to be filled, is that what you want?” Her hand snuck under your dress and, upon searching for underwear and instead finding your bare pussy, Wanda nipped at the underside of your breast. “Came down all by yourself with nothing on under this thin little dress? Naughty little bunny.”

There was no denying it, having hoped that one way or another, your midday visit would result in the sex you’d missed out on this morning. But who could blame you when your girlfriend was always so enticing? “I need you so bad, please.. I’ll beg so prettily for you.”

You’d put on your best pout, stroking Wanda’s cheek much too gently for the carnal need buzzing between you both. She lined the toy up to your entrance without another word, dying to fuck you just as much as you needed to be consumed by her. “Go on and beg, baby. Let me hear you.”

“Oh fuck, yes!” You moaned, sinking down onto her cock in one fluid motion. Your knees shook against the old wood of the loft, head falling into the crook of Wanda’s neck as she bucked up into your tight hole. “Feels so good, don’t stop—“

“That’s it, take what you need, pretty thing.” Wanda held your hips in a relaxed grip, allowing you to ride her however you pleased while she enjoyed the show.

It was just as you’d set the perfect pace that the large barn doors below opened, Natasha’s and Carol’s voices filling the otherwise empty building. Instinct had you backing off, but Wanda wouldn’t let you, fingers digging into your sides. “Stop it, we can’t! Someone’s here!”

“Shhh,” Wanda smirked when you shook your head, gripping your ass so roughly you yelped- much louder than you’d have liked. “Do you want them to hear?”

She didn’t stop there, refusing to be denied when she’d been so looking forward to this loft rendezvous, and soon your back met a scratchy bed of hay, Wanda driving into you more determined than ever. Wanda couldn’t care less if her friends heard what was happening up here; it wouldn’t be the first time they’d accidentally overheard and it probably wouldn’t be the last. “I bet it only turns you on more, thinking about everyone wanting to listen in on how pretty you sound getting fucked dumb.”

“N-No, I-” Realistically you didn’t stand a chance, tiny whimpers already escaping despite your best efforts to keep quiet. She held your hands above your head, keeping your body on display as she had her way with you and damn it, if it wasn’t so hot, you wouldn’t be struggling so intently to meet her hips with each thrust.

Wanda started to circle your neglected clit then and the last of your performative defiance faltered, legs falling open with a wanton moan. “You promised to beg, so you’d better not have been lying or I’ll leave you here with an ass so red you’ll be crying for me to carry you home.”

#it’s fun and innocent to bring your gf lunch in your new sundress #country bunny au.#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff smut #cowgirl!Wanda Maximoff #motts writes.#maximotts

313 notes · View notes

destieltropecollection · 3 days

Text

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 5: Touch-Starved

A Gentleman and A Scholar | @Taymarpigeon Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,963 Main Tags/Warnings: Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe, Soft Castiel/Dean Winchester, Needy Dean Winchester, Dom/sub Undertones, Silver Fox Castiel, References to childhood trauma, References to past abuse, Praise Kink, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff and Smut, Comfort Sex, Comfort No Hurt, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Age Difference, bottom Dean Winchester/top Castiel Summary: As you approach your fifties you expect life to slow down, worries and concerns ebbing as you set out on the next stage of your life. Not for Castiel though. Oh he's settled down for sure, married to a hot twenty-seven-year-old that certainly keeps him young at heart, financially stable and well-respected amongst his peers. However, his husband led a turbulent life before Castiel rescued him, the scars of it showing through in private moments and snowy days. When it comes to Dean Winchester there is nothing Castiel won't do, no thought of flight when it's Dean he's being called to fight for. Not that violence is on the cards today, no. Today Dean doesn't need Castiel to be his knight in shining armour, he needs him to be his lover, his attentive, affectionate, softly dommy husband that enjoys nothing better than having Dean curled up in his lap. Castiel would argue this is how anyone should hope to spend their life, regardless of age.

The Liminal Moment | @blessyourhondahurley Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,552 Main Tags/Warnings: alternate universe, massage, meet-cute Summary: After he throws out his back, Dean gets sent to a mysterious location...

An Angel Is Passing By | @melancholictearz Rating: General Word Count: 3,412 Main Tags/Warnings: AU - Castiel Meets Faith!Dean, Selectively Mute Dean, Deaf Castiel, Guardian Angel Castiel, Comfort, No Angst, Sign Language, Holding Hands, Cuddle for Warmth, Fluff Summary: SILENCE WAS HIS WORLD. THEN CASTIEL REVEALED A NEW ONE. In French, "an angel is passing by" is the literal translation of a saying used as silence sets in after a conversation. The kind of awkward seconds hanging in the air whenever someone speaks to Dean and the words won’t come out of his throat despite how much he wants to be heard. Meeting the angel Castiel doesn’t give him much more faith nor resolve the curse of his mutism either. But for an entire night, locked in a church and on the edge of death, Castiel’s tender eyes make Dean feel like he is listened to. Between them, the world goes quiet in a way Dean never experienced.

The First Language We Speak | @blessyourhondahurley Rating: General Word Count: 4,955 Main Tags/Warnings: alternate universe, autistic castiel, massage, touch-starved castiel, fluff, cheeseburgers Summary: A news article about the importance of touch leads Castiel to realize some uncomfortable things about himself and his life. These realizations lead him to Dean, a masseur, who becomes his friend and then more.

One Light In One Room | @notastupidbird Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,926 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Season/Series 05, Post-Episode: s05e22 Swan Song (Supernatural), Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Touch-Starved Castiel (Supernatural), Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, First Kiss, First Time, Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Porn with Feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sleep Deprivation, Insomnia, Pining, POV Castiel (Supernatural) Summary: After losing his brother in the showdown at Stull Cemetery, Dean has gone into self-imposed exile. He's plagued by insomnia, and the only way he seems to get any sleep at all is when Castiel puts him out with a single touch. When this still doesn't prove enough to bring Dean any real relief from his grief and sleeplessness, Castiel wonders if what Dean really needs is another type of comfort altogether.

Asterism of an F-Series Ford Pick Up | @disabled-dean Rating: Mature Word Count: 17,408 Main Tags/Warnings: Road trip, case fic, ambiguously set in season 12, ptsd, recovery, hell trauma, unresolved sexual tension, unresolved romantic tension, touch starved Dean Winchester, touch adverse Dean Winchester, Cas drives his truck for a case and Dean is incredibly horny about it, only one truck bed, stargazing, sex dreams, nightmares, mild body horror, implied top!castiel, implied bottom!dean winchester, the truck is a metaphor, Dear God Is The Truck A Metaphor Summary: When you've been to hell, desire is isolating and ugly. Or: Cas drives his truck for a case and Dean is exceptionally horny about it. “Once on a hunt when he was a teenager, Dean had been caught too close to an explosive when it had gone off. There had been the moment when the projectile hit, and the moment when it had detonated. And just before it had, there had also been a moment when he had believed that maybe it wouldn’t. He had thought about that moment for years, over and over again, until something else had taken its place. And the way that that moment was quiet, the way it was still- that is how this feels. To lie beside Cas in the bed of his truck, their shoulders barely touching.”

Profound Kisses | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20,729 Main Tags/Warnings: Pining, slow burn, top!Dean/bottom!Castiel, firsts, Destiel kisses, canonverse Summary: Dean knows he's screwed. He discovers he is in love with Castiel in Purgatory, and now he can't even have the angel in front of him, because he knows it's a one sided love. It’s Valentine's day and Dean tries very hard to hook up as always, but he can't get Cas out of his mind. So he drives back to the motel, drunk, and he finds Castiel trying to help him. Then, when Dean asks Castiel for some experimental kisses and the angel accepts, Dean starts a very dangerous game… finding in Castiel's kisses the most delicious experiences, but also, his own perdition. Will Castiel fall in love with him? Or will he stay emotionless as always?

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2024 #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #touch starved

104 notes · View notes

bridenore · 2 days

Text

HD longer fics recs : 80k to 90k words

Here are a few recs for fics ranging between 90k and 100k words.

You can see my recs for fics that have more than 200k here, between 150k and 200k here, between 125k and 150k here, between 100k and 125k here and between 90k and 100k here.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic [88k]

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

the call of sweet things by @softlystarstruck [88k]

Draco’s happy with his quiet, lonely life in Woolbury, spending his days working at Pen Pals and keeping his already tidy flat spotless. But when Harry Potter shows up with pink hair and secrets about his magic, Draco’s carefully upheld balance falls apart. He doesn’t quite know how he ends up decorating Harry’s cottage, drinking unreasonable amounts of cocoa, and laughing more than he’s laughed in years, but it’s Christmas, after all– and he finally has a chance to set things right.

Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by aibidil [80k]

In which a group of wizards’ rights activists goes on the offensive after a prohibition against love potions, forcing the magical world to confront the horror of magic’s role in sexual assault and the murky legal nature of consent. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco are swept together to solve the case, and in the process they’re made to confront their own love and lust—with and without potions.

Criminal by @the-sinking-ship [83k]

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less. Now, Draco is stuck in England under Auror Potter’s guard with no friends, no distractions, and no escape. How the hell will he pass the time? And since when did Potter get so bloody fit?

Dear Cousin, Love Regulus by @xx-thedarklord-xx [86k]

As the sole Malfoy heir, Draco understood that his path was set long before his birth; who to be, how to act and what his choices should be. What he had not counted on was the power of outside influences. Letters from his deceased cousin caused him to realize that he did have choices, starting with the choice to be someone else, to be who he wanted to be. The road to self-discovery was difficult and navigating that path in the shadow of Harry Potter was its own challenge but maybe, just maybe, his friends would help him along the way. And he would owe it all to Regulus Black.

Heaven Through a Window by JocundaSykes [81k]

Life is going swimmingly for Draco: he’s a respected Healer, his son is excellent in every way, and none of his patients have died recently. Then he gets landed with Perfect Potter and his hordes of stupid friends. It’s intolerable. But the more time Draco spends with the lonely boy from Surrey, the more he believes that there might be a hero within us all.

If the Fates Allow by Saras_Girl [80k]

What’s that crackling in the walls? Harry has no clue at all. He’ll eat some cake and drink some wine Because he is completely FINE. –A story about life’s disregard for our plans. [2017 advent story]

In Free Fall by @kbrick [81k]

Draco Malfoy is a serious university student whose idea of a good time is translating Ancient Greek texts and having game night with his small circle of friends. Harry Potter is a hard-partying adrenaline junkie who’s happiest when he’s leaping from an airplane or hurtling over a waterfall in a kayak. They have nothing in common. But when they reconnect in the Muggle world, curiosity prompts them to strike up a deal. Draco will show Harry what it’s like to be a swotty overachiever and Harry will show Draco what it’s like to live life dangerously. It’ll be fun, and really, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like Draco’s going to fall in love with the guy or anything.

In Pieces by @dysonrules [85k]

Harry returns to Hogwarts as the new DADA instructor, only to find his teaching efforts thwarted by a very familiar ghost.

Knead by laughingd0g [83k]

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy’s lean arms.

The Light More Beautiful by @firethesound [81k]

Thirteen years after Draco accepts Potter’s help escaping the horror of his sixth year, he returns to England where he makes the unfortunate discovery that Potter is still as obnoxious as ever. And worse, more than a decade overseas hasn’t been enough to dim Draco’s obsession with him.

Loverboys by @corvuscrowned [84k]

As post-war violence and tensions rise, it seems as if there’s no hope to unify the wizarding world. Except, maybe, a manufactured relationship between resident Saviour Harry Potter and known purveyor of the Dark Arts Draco Malfoy. (The fact that they detest each other is beside the point.) But as Draco’s unrelenting mind games begin to wear him down, Harry has to remind himself that it’s all fake. The relationship is fake. The affection is fake. The pet names, the romance — even the engagement photos are fake. But there’s something in Draco’s kiss that might just be real.

Martyred by @doingthechachaslide [82k]

Harry Potter only wants one thing: to take care of the people he loves. After Teddy’s abrupt departure from his role as Andromeda’s caretaker, Harry decides it’s finally time to step up and handle the job himself. Castoff Manor, an old Black family estate, has never seemed as sinister as the stories make it sound, but it’s there that Harry stumbles upon ghosts, haunting family secrets, and a familiar, snarky blond gardener hell-bent on chasing him out. Maybe if Harry sticks around long enough, he’ll finally learn why all of Andromeda’s previous caretakers have fled without looking back.

Merlin, Give Me Strength by Aelys_Althea [86k]

Draco retreated after the war. Despite the Wizarding world turning a smiling, forgiving face to any and all with a black name and stained reputation, he wanted none of it. All Draco wanted was to be left alone. Unfortunately for him, Harry Potter doesn’t want to leave him alone. And more than that, he finds himself with the most unlikely of house guests that he just can’t seem to rid himself of. Why is life never simple?

Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by @lordhellebore [82k]

When Harry is forced to form a Blood Bond with Draco Malfoy under threat of death, he thinks his future will consist of a cold home and sexual frustration. But when a group of left-over Death Eaters decides to stir trouble, their lives change completely – and it takes them both some years to figure out whether it’s for better or for worse.

The Nightmare Club by Elle Gray [85k]

Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn’t. Harry hasn’t decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he’s responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don’t worry, there’s tea!

On the Last Day of Our World by Sansa [84k]

During a detention, Harry and Draco get locked in a strange room together overnight. When they escape the next morning, they discover they are alone. Love, angst and adventure abound as they struggle to survive in an empty world.

red and green are complimentary colours by ace_0fhearts [88k]

After the war Hermione manages to convince Harry to go back to Hogwarts for his eighth year. Expecting an uneventful year of classes and rooming with the other Gryffindor boys, he’s surprised when McGonagall tells him he’ll be sharing a room with Draco Malfoy. Now Harry has to get through a year of arguments and awkward silences. Or he would, if Malfoy would stop ignoring him and moping around the castle alone. Or: Draco and Harry fall in love through sleepless nights and late night quidditch games

Reparo by amalin [84k]

Voldemort’s final defeat does not mean Harry Potter’s troubles are over; far from it. In the aftermath of war, he returns to a Hogwarts that is fractured and divided, but this is no break that can be fixed with a spell. New owls, fading scars, surprising alliances—and along the way, the hardest task of all, to live with it.

The Stars Have Courage by @fantalf [85k]

Draco can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move. He can’t hear anything besides the buzzing in his ears. The walls are closing in. The world becomes smaller, narrowing itself to the pain in his chest, and it becomes the only thing that makes sense. He tries to cry. Maybe he is crying, but there are no tears anymore. Luna’s words echo endlessly in his brain. Harry doesn’t remember. Harry doesn’t love Draco. Repeating ceaselessly. Infinite, Harry used to say. No. No. No. Draco can’t lose him again. But he doesn’t know who you are now. He doesn’t love you. He hates you. You are no one. His world turns into an overwhelming pain. And that pain is all that he is. — Draco waited five long years to watch his husband wake up from a coma. He’s not ready to meet a Harry with no memory of anything that happened after he died at The Battle of Hogwarts, twelve years ago.

Things That Change by eutichydes [84k]

After Hogwarts, everything changes.

This Year’s Love by trishjames [84k]

This year’s love had better last, heaven knows it’s high time when you try to make lovers from friends. But Harry Potter realises time and time again that it’s simply not possible for him. And then along comes Draco Malfoy— the ultimate foe on the mend. Whatever will become of them? A story about love.

Variation by @lower-east-side [87k]

After suffering enormous losses, Draco Malfoy must now struggle to define his place in the post-war world. Through dashed hopes and changing fortunes, Draco carves out a new niche for himself. But adapting to life with Harry Potter may be the biggest challenge of all.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#my recs #drarry #drarry recs

82 notes · View notes

silverameco · 3 days

Text

First Kiss - @wolfstarmicrofic - 733 words

Sirius had always dreamed of romance. For his family, feelings were nothing more than an inconvenience. Marriage was a mean to an end. Forming alliances, producing heirs. Love was out of the question. He wasn't even sure they knew what love really was. Hell, he wasn't even sure he knew it himself. What he did know however was that the way they treated each other wasn't love.

So he spent his childhood dreaming of something else. Something more. Something worth risking everything over. The kind of love that made you willing to reach the moon just to give it to the person who stole your heart.

Of course, Sirius did know certain forms of love. The unconditional brotherly love for Regulus that he couldn't escape even when, at times, he had wanted to. The twisted love that tied him to his parents despite everything, the kind which made him feel like he didn't deserve anything more than the scraps of affection he wasn't even sure ever existed. The pure and joyful platonic love he felt for his friends, the way it flowed naturally between them. The safe and healing love that the Potters gave him without hesitation, welcoming him in their home.

But he wanted the romantic kind. The big, real love that the poets talked about. He wanted the passion, the butterflies, the blushing cheeks and the hitching breath. The kiss that said this. This is where I'm supposed to be. This is who I belong with. He wanted the electricity in his veins and the shivers on his skin. He wanted it all. Sirius was greedy and always wanted more than life offered him. He wanted to give his everything to someone and have someone's everything in return.

So, he tried. Oh, how he tried to find it. Desperately, almost. At seventeen years old, he was already known as the heartthrob of Hogwarts, having experienced his fair share of heated embraces in the arms of many girls, and some boys too. And yet, he never managed to find it. The everything he was looking for. The kiss that would shatter his world. Maybe he asked for too much. Maybe he dreamed too big.

He didn't even realize this love, too big for his brain to catch up on his heart, was already there. Right in front of his eyes. He didn't understand it until it happened.

They were hanging out in the deserted common room one night. Keeping each other company through their insomnia like they did sometimes. Remus was reading soflty to him while Sirius rested his head on his shoulder, dozing off on the sound of his voice.

When Remus stopped reading suddendly, Sirius raised his head to look at him, surprised. "Moony, why d'you stopped ?"

But he didn't respond, just fixed him with an intense stare and a slightly opened mouth. Sirius didn't know what it was exactly. Maybe the fireplace that made his eyes appear golden. Maybe the peace and quiet of the moment. Maybe the fact that they were so close they could count each other's eyelashes. He couldn't tell you who moved first. All he knew was that, one moment he was looking into Remus' eyes, and the next he closed his own to press their lips together.

That's when it happened. Everything he was so desperate to find, but better somehow. Remus' touch was both soft and demanding. Caring and passionnate. Chapped lips that felt and tasted like the sweetest thing. Their breaths mingled to form one and it was the only thing Sirius wanted to survive on from now on. A tentative swipe of tongue alight something in his guts that just needed a spark to burn.

Sirius thought it was the kind of first kiss that the poets sang about. A kiss that felt like lightning fell from the sky to strike him right there, in the arms of the boy who was here all this time and yet whom he had somehow missed. The boy he finally found when he never really lost him anyway.

A kiss that said

My Moon, I don't have to climb to the moon, you already gave it to me

and

Please, let me offer you all the fragile segments that weave my being in return

It was perfect. It was his everything. Everything he had dreamed of. Everything he wanted, and everything he already had.

#i really like this one #i can't wait to post it #they make me so🫠#also i'm convinced i can't go any more mini #i swear i'm trying #silv writes things #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era

101 notes · View notes

meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 days

Text

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 32

MASTAPOST

Samson S. Skulker. Wealthy real estate owner, noted trophy hunter. Been on safaris in Botswana, Indonesia, India, and other countries taking big game. Guy hunted just about everything. Elephants, rhinos, tigers, elk, only to come to Elmerton Bay, just an hour away by boat from Amity Island.

It didn’t take two brain cells to figure out why. The better question was why Phantom tried to point webbed fingers at him as to the whereabouts of Danny Fenton, a move that was transparently (goddammit Dick and your puns) a lie, according to Bruce. Tim Drake slipped into the man’s more private records without even trying.

Of course, getting the data out and parsing what it meant were two very different things. But he wasn’t trained by Batman for nothing. Skulker did make cursory attempts at hiding his electronic paper trail, but cursory was absolutely not enough to keep 13-year-old Tim out, let alone his current self.

Firstly, the man absolutely hunted more exotic, more illegal creatures. That much was clear. Borrowing some of Barbara’s programmes, Tim found the man travelling to much more remote countries. His little vacations coincided with missing persons reports around the same time.

Missing metas, to be exact. Each person with a power set dangerous to themselves and others. Each person having disappeared without a trace and then never to be found again. The picture Tim was building was getting grimmer.

Secondly, the man was buying parts. Robotics parts, to be exact. Engines, weapons systems, hydraulics. Many of them sourced from Vladco, the company founded by Vlad Masters, an old college friend of Jack and Maddie Fenton, who were the parents to the missing teenager of Tim’s current case.

But Danny Fenton did not have the meta-gene, a fact Tim confirmed after yet another concerning breach of privacy. He filed that detail away for later investigating.

Tim pressed a key, letting his programmes run while he got a coffee. Oh sweet delicious coffee. He had once distilled almost pure caffeine into a syrup. It was the most horrible thing he’d tasted in his life, but the buzz kept him up all night, that was until his heart started giving out. That was less enjoyable.

What was also less enjoyable was the revving motorcycle heading into the Batcave. Two motorcycles, in fact. Just as Tim’s afternoon was looking to be peaceful and quiet.

“Don’t fucking give me that, Dickwing!” Jason called out.

“I’m fine, Jay, maybe you need to stop hovering over me like some mama bear.” Dick put down his helmet with maybe a little too much force.

Jason hopped off his own bike. “That’s bullshit and even Timbit knows it.”

Tim shrunk into the Batcomputer’s chair. He so did not want to be a part of this. He just waited for his older brothers to carry their argument out of earshot, like they had been doing regularly now. The men traded strong words with every footstep across the cave.

“Maybe I’m just a little high strung. It’s honestly nothing.”

“You literally cannot fucking say that when I saw you going full-ass Punisher five minutes ago. Like the traffickers yesterday were one thing. Those guys suck. This dude was literally just a mugger. Are you going out of your fucking mind?”

“Jason, I thought you were supposed to be the one who’s all for going full Punisher style?”

Jason groaned loudly, and then transitioned into a frustrated scream. “Do you even hear yourself?!”

The changing room door slammed shut.

That was the second argument in the last two days. If you told Tim that Mr Heads-in-a-Duffle would be lecturing the Golden Child over excessive force, he’d start working on a machine to send you back to the topsy-turvy alternate dimension you’d come from, but apparently his dimension was the topsy-turvy one the whole time. And he hated it.

Turns out Dick inherited more from Bruce than he liked to admit, including his awful coping mechanisms. And to be honest, he was way too tired to even begin to breach this subject.

He should be happy that his literal attempted murderer was going to be out of his hair for a good while, maybe even forever. But even entertaining the thought made him sick enough to avoid the topic in his head for hours, only to think about it again, and get himself sick again.

So back to Skulker it was. Joy.

It turned out his new friend Skulker had made himself a fucking Iron Man rip-off suit, capable of flight, diving, and packed to the gills with fuck-you bazookas, machine guns, and hydroplasm weapons. Hydroplasm guns that he’d sourced from the Fentons themselves, through a long and complicated chain of buyoffs.

And happy day, the man was kind enough to install cameras and microphones, and kept logs from both.

In a surprising twist, it was fiendishly difficult to hack into those logs. Tim was honestly beginning to sweat. He suspected Skulker’s friends at Vladco (namely Vlad Masters, the sleezeball. Tim never liked him at galas and this only cemented his low opinion) had some secrets that they didn’t want out.

No matter, it was only a matter of time. Tim continued typing.

And typing.

What the hell was this firewall?! Tim pinched his arm just to make sure this wasn’t a sleep-deprivation hallucination. He could’ve sworn he’d gotten through that layer of security. It was like it was shifting itself to cover up his progress and force him to start over. Almost like it was alive.

Against the thunderous backdrop of his brothers’ clashing voices, Tim set himself on overdrive. If he could just act faster than it could correct itself, then maybe, maybe.

A plain error message informed him of the results long after he’d already seen them. Tim kicked the table for good measure. The only thing he could extract was two frames of video footage. They showed, respectively, a T-shirt and pair of sneakers that matched what one of the missing metas was wearing when they were last seen.

Was it damning evidence? Absolutely. But it also proved to him absolutely nothing that he wasn’t already suspecting, nothing that could point him in a new direction. Still, it made his stomach churn. He hoped those people would get a better second chance beyond the grave.

Maybe the fact that the data was this well-hidden at all proved something.

The locker room door swung open, his brothers in civvies and glaring at each other, trying to appear civil in front of (right behind) Tim, even though they’d literally just been shouting at each other ten minutes ago.

“Timmy!” Dick called out. “How long have you been awake?”

Tim gestured offhanded to his pile of only two used mugs. “Not long enough. I’m still working. Can you take it upstairs please?”

Jason huffed, and stalked off upstairs without a word, probably too disgusted to be in his and Dick’s presence much longer.

Dick clasped his hands. “It’s fine, Tim. Honestly. Jason and I are just having a little, err, disagreement, is all.”

“Hm.” Tim inputted another set of commands. He was starting to see why Bruce liked to say that now. Avoiding painful emotions felt so good. Dick made a pained noise.

“Well, ok. I’m just gonna head back to Bludhaven now. Say hi to Alfred for me! And contact me if you need anything!” And then he sped off.

Tim shook off the awkwardness like old clothes. Thank goodness for some peace and quiet again. Maybe that was why he was working so hard to help Bruce get the demon child back, so he could return to the status quo, and not this. This hell reality where Dick was as emotionally constipated as Bruce and Jason was the one acting as the voice of reason.

The first night when Bruce called home, the entire family was in an uproar. Dick got a pale look on his face, and was halfway about to take the Batplane and go searching for Damian himself, only for Bruce to remind him that they were all still needed in Gotham and Bludhaven, and whatever few leads there were, Bruce would pursue. It was effortlessly logical, but it was clear Dick hated it. He stormed off in a rage that Tim had only seen when Ethiopia was fresh, when he and Bruce were at their lowest.

And Jason? He got this look on his face that he’d never, ever seen before. Tim had laid awake one night just contemplating it for ages.

Actually, no. He had seen it once before. It was Tim caught Jason looking into what Bruce was doing in the months after Ethiopia. Tim had subtly hacked the phone camera, and the look Jason had then was the same as how he looked when Damian was declared missing.

Tim shook his head. It was a gruesome image, what Bruce had sent them. Damian’s clothes ripped to shreds. The ground stained with his blood. No body in sight.

A little brother who may or may not be dead, something he may or may not be glad or sick to his stomach about. Brothers who were acting like completely different people, and a monster of a man who had to be connected somehow.

A ping appeared in the corner of the screen. The government siren hunting branch appearing in Panama?

Sam Manson sat up in her bed, her body finding some way to release the dread and tension. She looked on at her phone in horror and macabre fascination in equal parts.

This had Danny written all over it. She didn’t even need to hear the anchor confirming it to know.

On the one hand, she really wanted to applaud him for fucking them up this bad. The comment section was ripping into the GiW for their actions in Panama, treating the country like it was some vassal state they could romp around in. She personally screenshotted the fucking beautiful mass car crash the GiW had gotten into trying to catch him, and saved it into her favourites folder.

On the other hand, she really wanted to slap him for fucking up this bad. This could’ve easily gone wrong. Danny what were you thinking?! They could’ve got him that time!

And finally, she wanted to yell in frustration, because they had a radio communicator there. Goddammit! If only Tucker had known, they he could’ve hacked in and they could’ve talked to their best friend and actually got an update on what the fuck was going on.

And finally, finally for real, she was so glad, because the GiW would’ve announced it on every news channel if they’d actually managed to catch him. Thank fucking goodness.

Ugh, this headache. She really needed to lie down again.

Knock, knock knock knock knock, knock knock.

Dread pooled in her stomach. “Come in,” she said, resigned to her fate.

Grandma Ida, the person she least wanted to see right now, opened the door. She was the kind of woman who never carried herself very seriously, except for in matters of sorcery, and especially when warning Sam on the dangers of her craft. Dangers that Sam had ignored in order to go all out. Now she marched into Sam’s bedroom like an executioner.

Grandma stood at the foot of Sam’s bed, scanning her closely. “I knew I smelled tinged blood.” She went up to the side, and palmed Sam’s forehead. Her hand was freezing cold to the touch. “You should’ve called me immediately.”

Sam averted her eyes. She should’ve, but she didn’t.

Her parents never failed to get a rise out of her; she rejected their notions of female beauty and social etiquette in every way, their attempts to hook her up with Tim Drake-Wayne, then Damian Wayne, and she hadn’t cowed to them or submitted since she was ten. But with Grandma’s withering disapproval, she couldn’t feel more like a child if she tried.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“I warned you many times of the risks, Sammy. You’re lucky to be here, and not in the hospital or worse.”

“I know.”

Sam moved to lie on her side, facing away from Granny. Granny had questioned her decision to fight alongside Danny, but allowed it under the condition that she did so safely, and turning your body into a popping water balloon, but with blood, was so not the definition of safe.

And Danny’s fate was still in question regardless. He wasn’t able to cross Panama, and who knows what Damian was doing. What if it was all for naught?

A hand was put on her shoulder. “Did you accomplish what you were set out to do?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

“And was it worth it?” Yes. Absolutely yes. Danny bled every day for this god-forsaken town of ingrates. He’d bled for her mistake six months ago.

Granny seemed to understand her feelings. She nodded, and ruffled Sam’s hair, and the tension in Sam’s body drained away.

“Then I trust your judgement. Can you sit up? I’ve brought some more medicine for you.”

Sam pushed herself against the bunched-up pillows at the headboard. Her head spun from the motion, but she was never one to let her body’s limits confine her. “Thank you, Bubbe. I love you.”

Granny passed her a brew of herbal medicine, dozens of dried spices and mushrooms brewed together into a blackened sludge that felt like knives into your tongue, but which never failed to get her feeling better. It was a leg up from what big pharma tried to pedal for ten-fold the price.

Sam lifted up the mug to her face. And, oh yeah. Nothing like bitter liquid pain to help with a migraine. She let the hot tea flow over her taste buds, pathing them in cinnamon, star anise and a million other things.

She finished her tea in one satisfying gulp, running her tongue over her teeth and scratching out the lingering aftertaste. As she put the mug down, it revealed Grandma’s face hovering right in front of her. Sam yelped in shock. “Bubbe! You gave me a heart attack!”

Bubbe smiled devilishly. “So what did you do?”

Sam’s mouth gaped open. Leave it to her Grandma to almost kill her from emotional whiplash.

“Now come on, this is a monumental moment for a budding young sorceress like yourself. Why, when I was twenty-two, I used to run with some heroic types myself. We had all sorts of hijinks together.” Bubbe cackled and clasped her hands, eyes going wispy. “My friends got a heart attack when I pulled off my own hare-brained scheme to topple the evil overlord of the week’s central command. Hah!”

“What?!” Then Sam coughed, and lowered her volume. “What do you mean ‘heroic types.’ You just told me you went to some stuffy academy and eloped.”

Bubbe shrugged. “I did do that. Must have forgotten the extra stuff.”

Sam blinked.

She moved to sit beside Sam on the bed. “We got up to a lot of fun back in the day, and a lot of pain too. I did what I did to protect those I cared for. Did you, bubbeleh?”

She held Sam’s hand with a look that reminded her just how many years Grandma had lived, and how many adventures or stories she had yet to tell, how much heartache she’d had to endure to become the woman she was now. “I projected an illusion all the way off the coast of Panama. It hurt like nothing else in my entire life, but…” She paused. “We got Phantom out. He’s safe now, I think.”

Grandma Ida nodded solemnly, the kind of understanding that Sam craved from her parents every waking moment of her teenage career.

“I don’t want this to be a regular occurrence, ok?”

“Yes, I promise. This was an extreme circumstance.”

“Good. Now, are you well enough for some meditation? It would do well to keep your soul energy flowing.”

Ok, but you have to tell me what you got up to back in the day.”

Granny chuckled, and agreed to it. Sam kicked off her covers, letting her legs get some fresh air. She was probably pushing it, but she needed to recover as quickly as possible. Who knew when she would be needed again?

Maddie Fenton kneeled in the sand. Her hands clamped down on her gun. Her knees shook. Tears prickled in her goggles.

Her baby was right there. He was so close. So fucking close. She could almost touch him, even now.

And he ran away from her. And at first her heart shattered into a million pieces, just like it had when he’d come home after his first disappearance and flinched when she hugged him.

Then she realised. He was protecting her. Some metal menace was shooting at her defenseless son like it was some kind of sick game. The monster of a man had laid fucking landmines on a public beach.

It should’ve been her protecting him.

Bruce Wayne returned to her side, empty handed. They’d scoured this entire beach. Danny couldn’t have gone far, she had thought, only for their search to turn up with nothing.

That left only one option. That her enemy doubled back after fleeing, and snatched Danny up without either her or Bruce noticing. Maddie’s heart sank. She should’ve aimed for the head.

A name pinged in her mind. Phantom had whispered it to her. Skulker.

With nary but nod, she and Bruce mounted their jet skis again.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #mermaid au #angst #danny phantom #tim drake #mer!danny #mer!damian wayne #mermay #mermay 2024

38 notes · View notes

heliads · 2 days

Note

Hi!! So excited your requests are open! I was wondering if you write for young!charles xavier? Where him and fem!reader (who has similar telepathic powers as him, and often communicates with him this way, e.g. through some small quips that causes him to accidentally laugh out loud) have just returned from a really tiring mission back to the school, dealt with some of the kids, and just take some time to relax and just be with each other?

Thank you very much and have a lovely day!

'like me' - charles xavier

masterlist

Charles Xavier is stressed again.

You can feel it on your skin like rushing water, pouring around your brain until all you can think about is him, him– the way it always has been, the way it always will be. The divide between you and Charles has rapidly worn away until it is practically nothing at all. It’s you and him, him and you. Almost one person. Certainly one mind.

All your life, you’ve struggled with who you want to be. Discovering your mutation at the young age of ten years old only catapulted you into a life of confusion. At first, your telepathy was nothing more than a burden. The sound of everyone’s thoughts in your head was a crashing din of noise and exhaustion. You dragged yourself through every day, bothered to overstimulation by the never ending tumult of voices in your mind, but you could never sleep enough at night, kept awake by the dreams of those around you.

Only with time were you able to calm your mind down, to set up walls between yourself and others until you could finally experience some peace within the confines of your own head. On days when you’re sick or tired, the whispers find a way to sneak in through the cracks in your mental barriers, but for the most part, you’re okay. You block out the world, and even if it makes you lonelier, and even if shutting off your mutation makes you feel like you’ve cut off a limb, you’re less distracted. It was better.

So you told yourself, at least. You had assumed that shoving everything to the very periphery of your existence was the only way to live. It wasn’t as if there were any other mutants around to tell you otherwise, after all. Then, all of a sudden, there was. Appearing out of the blue, a stranger, dressed well, with a comforting air to him. A quiet smile directed towards you, a cup of tea cooling in his hands. Charles Xavier found you and told you were going to be alright. And you believed him. And he was telling the truth.

He often does. Charles is the rare sort of person that lives life as if it isn’t just a game. He abides by the rules, and whether he wins or loses, he doesn’t cheat. Not often, and never unless it’s absolutely necessary. Charles consistently looks for the good in people, and, amazingly enough, he has a knack for finding it. The idea of a mutant school was unfathomable– too risky, too many dangerous people in one place– but of course if one person could make it happen, it would be Charles. Charles was everything to you. Is everything to you. And always will be.

You were one of the first mutants Charles found. All of the others in the first round, he met with Erik, but Charles met you by himself. He said he wanted it to be personal. Really, Charles wanted to have this moment with you to himself. Apparently, he’d been able to sense that your mutation was just like his, and he was delighted by it, a child again. You could see it in the cherubic grin on his face, the bright spark in those shining blue eyes. After all this time alone, the two of you had finally found each other.

You can still remember every detail of that first meeting even all these years later. It was impossible to forget a single thing about Charles. You were practically starstruck to be in his presence. Here was this man who knew everything about the torment in your mind, who had found a way to live without suppressing himself. His control was incredible. He led the life you wanted for yourself, and best of all, he was willing to teach it to you.

Of course you would have gone with him to this idea of a school. You would have followed him anywhere if it meant being able to embrace your gift, and later, although you didn’t know it or perhaps weren’t willing to acknowledge it, being able to embrace him. When the two of you came back to the school, Erik initially didn’t believe that the two of you had just met. It was impossible, he said. The two of you spoke to each other like you’d known each other your entire lives, not just for the span of a few hours.

And maybe you had known him forever. It certainly felt that way. Charles understood you like no one else. The two of you developed a way of speaking that drove everyone else mad, half in your heads and half aloud. You’d go five minutes just staring intently at each other, then laugh and say a word here and there that revealed absolutely nothing about the conversation taking place. As your control over your mutation grew, your talks with Charles grew more and more nonverbal until they happened entirely in your heads save for odd exclamations here and there.

It tends to interfere with his teaching. Charles will be in the middle of a lesson when you’ll pop into his mind to report on a mission or tell him a funny joke. The students have come to brush it off when Professor Xavier starts laughing in the middle of an otherwise serious debate on ethics, or a long derivation of some physics formula. It’s you, again. Always is.

Charles pretends it drives him mental, but you both know otherwise. You can feel his delight in being able to speak to you in your mind, after all. It resonates through your head just as it does in his, warming your cheeks with his own rosy blush of affection. When the two of you fell in love, you could sense it instantly. His emotions were yours. Your love was his. All of the pieces of the two of you overlapped until there was no separation between yourselves, just one great person, one Charles-and-Y/N, Y/N-and-Charles, together until the end. You adore it.

And so it has been since the very start. The two of you as one, watching over the students as they enter your school. You teach them all you can, and say fond goodbyes as some pupils leave, ready to face the outside world, this time armed with the knowledge that they can take care of themselves and their mutations. Others stay for years, perhaps indefinitely, and you treasure them for as long as you can. Everyone leaves eventually. Everyone but you and Charles.

The school is not merely a school, of course. Your primary objective will always be to care for the young mutants of the world, but there is another facet to it, and that would happen to be your extracurricular activity of saving the planet. You’re a central part of the X-Men, and often find yourself shipping out on missions across the world with the others when you’re needed.

You’ve been on a particularly nasty mission for a few weeks now, but at long last, you’re on a plane headed home. You always miss Charles whenever you’re away; feeling his connection to you grow shakier the farther you’re apart before dropping away entirely once you’re out of range is nothing short of heartbreaking. Whenever you’re unable to communicate directly through your minds, you feel like a child again, utterly alone and with no idea that she could ever find someone to love and understand her the way Charles does.

You come back, though. You always come back. This time, it was a little less certain that you would, but after several harrowing weeks, you’re finally landing at the mansion, and you know everything is going to be okay again. You have a few minor injuries that need clearing in the medical wing, and there are reports that need to be written, but it is over, the fear is over.

Still, there is one person in the mansion who will not stop being afraid until you find him. You saw Charles briefly when you arrived, and eagerly fell into his embrace upon disembarking, but you were split up by the necessity of medical attention and wrapping up some lingering loose ends. Once the end of the day is upon you, though, and your bandages have been wrapped and wounds treated, you want nothing more than to find Charles again.

You can feel his stress pressing in on you from all sides. He gets like this a lot when missions are running, Jean has told you that, but this time it’s worse than usual. You were only able to send him quick, intermittent messages through the radio, and all delivered bad news. The odds that you would come back severely injured were high, and even if you managed to beat them, the possibility was still there.

You make your way out of the medical wing, walking through the halls of the mansion towards the living quarters. On the way, you’re stopped by several children who’ve waited up to see you, and after assuring them that you’re alright and will be back to training with them soon, you’re free to bid them goodnight and head upstairs.

Charles is waiting for you in your shared room. He’s been whispering to you all evening, making sure you’re okay and that you’re coming to find him soon, but once you open the door and come face to face with him once more, the whispers suddenly stop. All is quiet.

“I missed you,” he says aloud.

You smile. “I know. I missed you too.”

Charles’ face, a portrait of anxiety, cracks with relief at last and he holds out his arms to you. You release yourself towards him and let him embrace you. Charles’ breath is warm on your face, and his hand rubs calming circles on the small of your back. The comfort of finally being back with him is indescribable, closest to finally taking a breath after suffocating. The last few weeks have been tumultuous and torturous, but at long last, you know you’re going to be okay again. You’re with Charles. What could ever harm you?

requested by @fly-you-dam-fools, i hope you enjoy!

xmen tag list: @blondsauduun, @callsign-scully, @gods-fools-heroes, @deafsuperhero, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#charles xavier #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier oneshot #charles xavier imagines #young charles xavier #young charles xavier imagines #young charles xavier x reader #young charles xavier oneshot #xmen #xmen imagines #xmen x reader #xmen oneshot #xmen charles #xmen charles imagines #xmen charles x reader #xmen charles oneshot

29 notes · View notes

asacredthebread · 3 days

Text

Your Majesty

King!Jake x Servant!Reader

Angst

The large room had become filled with a draft, chilling you down to the bones as you pushed your clothes into a chest, turning towards the window for a moment.

The sun had begun to set, illuminating the valley in an array of pinks and oranges, a kaleidoscope of colours that you had always admired. You’d miss this view, but you’d miss him more.

“I’m almost finished, Mother, just a few more things to go” you spoke, before turning away from the view that so desperately tried to hold your gaze.

You were surprised to see him this late. In fact, you were surprised to see him at all, considering the past few days that had been had.

“Your Majesty” you spoke, keeping your voice low, your eyes focused on the floor.

Lifting your head ever so slightly, you could see his eyebrows raising into a look of confusion.

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to call you now?” you replied, before kneeling back down in front of the chest, gently placing your cloth-wrapped trinkets into it, laying them out carefully.

“You can call me by my name, like you’ve always done” he replied, “Nothing has changed.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at him, before pulling yourself together.

“Don’t you see?” you continued, pulling the lid of the chest closed. “Everything has changed. Your position has changed, your family has changed, your life has changed. And it seems that I no longer have a place in it.”

He was silent, simply watching you move as you spoke.

“You promised me that when the time came, that I would be the one that came with you. That you’d stand on your balcony and announce it to the people, that it was me, that I was the one that you wanted.”

You couldn’t help but to turn from him, unable to continue watching him feign confusion.

“Yet here we are. I have to leave, and you have to ascend. How is any of this fair? How could we have spent so many years chasing this dream, only for you to throw it away? It’s your kingdom now. Who cares about the silly rules and regulations, who cares what the people would think? You are their king, you are their ruler. You make the rules. And you didn’t even try.”

He took a quiet step forward, opening his mouth to speak. “I di-“

“No, you didn’t. If you had, we wouldn’t be standing here, I wouldn’t be packing everything that I’ve ever owned into a box, and I wouldn’t be having to say goodbye.

Maybe I was foolish for thinking that it would work, maybe I was ignorant to the truth. But i trusted you. I trusted you to keep your word.”

You stood, then, making your way back to the window. You rested your hands on the ledge, your fingers intertwining with each other. Despite feeling the sting of tears threatening in the corners of your eyes, you pressed on.

“You gave me a lifetime of memories that I refuse to forget. You cannot take those away from me - they are mine to keep. Endless nights sat right here in this room, your voice ringing in my ears, promising me that everything will be okay, that once you were king, we could finally be together.

You gave me more than I could have ever asked for. You gave me your love, but you kept your heart.”

You could feel him stood directly behind you, his arms finally slipping around your waist, before turning you to face him.

Once the words had began, you found yourself unable to stop, every thought that you had spilling out of you like the chalice of the king.

“My heart does not come with me tomorrow. My heart will not sail over the waters and bear the storms in the ways that I will have to. My heart will not know the struggles that are to come. My heart will stay here. And whether you like it or not, it will always belong to you, it will always be yours. You can say whatever you’d like, be it that you’ve chosen her, or that she was chosen for you - but what I know is that my heart will never belong to anyone else.

My heart will stay here while I rot and wither away from the inside out, knowing that I cannot come home, that there is no home for me here, not anymore. “

He lifted your chin slightly, his index finger and thumb resting so gently on your skin. “I don’t want you to leave.” His voice was gentle, but commanding - as if he had already grown into his role as King.

“Your words mean nothing to me now. My ticket has been bought, and my lodgings secured. Don’t you dare forget that it was your idea for me to leave, that it would be easier for her to not have to see me around. Don’t think that I will ever forget the way that you looked at me, like I was nothing but dirt on the bottom of your boot, like i was something that could just be scraped off and discarded. It’s not that easy, Jacob, you know that it isn’t.”

His eyebrows furrowed once more as you spoke, before leaning down, his lips gently pressing over yours.

It was then that your decision had been made, pulling yourself away from his grasp, and leaning down to grab the chest into your arms.

“Let me hel-“ he began, before you turned, the tears finally flowing down your cheeks, leaving marks along the front of your clothes.

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need anything from you anymore.”

You were quick to leave the room, not daring to look back at him. What was done was done, and you were left only to fear for the future.

#fanfic #greta #jacob thomas kiszka #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #joshua michael kiszka #kiszka #kiszka twins #sam kiszka #danny wagner #daniel wagner #greta van fleet

45 notes · View notes

pastel-pillows · 19 hours

Text

Bear with me this goes between writing and just thoughts, I’m dealing with some eye issues so writing is hard right now 😩 but I had to get this out. Anyway this is rough but

I’ve been thinking about post season four reader.

One who can’t sleep without first daydreaming of Eddie, of his voice and his touch. The smile that lit up his face every time his eyes would land on you for the first time of the day, like you marked the beginning of the day and not the sun rising.

For the immediate few weeks after he’s gone you dream of what had been. Of dates you’d been on and moments you’d spent together; you linger in the last few days where everything had felt like it would be ok, where you still had forever. His voice was fresh in your memories, echoing in your mind more often than your own thoughts did.

That only lasts so long and eventually fantasies of what could have been take up the fleeting moments between twilight and dawn. You dream of his graduation, of the day you would have moved in together. You dream of the forever that you both had wanted.

Dreams of proposals and weddings and fixing up that van of his over and over because he’s too sentimental to give it up help fill, though just barely, that longing for more than what you’d been given.

But weeks turn into months and now it’s been three years without him and when you close your eyes to escape to the world you’ve created where he makes everything hurt less, you, for the very first time, realize his voice no longer comes out of the mouth talking to you. You think at first that you’re too tired to indulge in your daydreams but as the nights pass everything you conjure up just doesn’t seem right. Wasn’t his voice a little deeper? Didn’t his laugh have more timbre to its tone? He had dimples didn’t he?

That night you lay awake with the awareness that while time made things more bearable it had also taken his voice from you, not quite gone in its entirety but definitely warped from what it had been.

I imagine that it starts to show on your face, the bags under your eyes a sign each and every person in your group is all too familiar with. They know about the sleepless nights, the nightmares and anxiety because they’ve all dealt with it as well.

Dustin is the first one you confide in, the deep exhaustion sits on your shoulders like a weight and the moment he asks the words “are you ok?” Everything comes out, the way you’d been coping, how you dream of Eddie and the life you would have had together. Your voice cracking as you mention how you aren’t sure you remember what his voice sounded like.

Dustin not being all that good with crying does his best to pat you on the back and share a few things he’d been going through in an attempt to relate to you and help ground you. Mostly he just sits and listens until you’ve said all you need to and eventually go quiet and for you that’s more than enough.

Now hear me out.

You go to your car one day after visiting some of the others, a quick lunch where most of your schedules had managed to align. Nothing fancy, just a diner that kind of sat as the halfway point between where you all lived. When you open your car door you see a cassette tape on the drivers seat, it’s got a piece of paper with your name taped to it in Dustin’s handwriting and Eddie’s chicken scratch “tape 23” in sharpie on the actual tape. You’ve got it in and playing before you’ve even buckled up.

At first it’s some static, then the sound of some paper shuffling and finally you hear “Hellfire campaign number 23.” Followed by your laughter in the background mingling with the laugh track of whatever show you’d been watching. There’s a too long pause where you imagine he’s smiling over his shoulder at you enjoying the show before it picks up again. “Alright, let’s begin.”

I think Eddie liked to record more than just his music, most of his tapes are just mindless babbling as he bounces ideas around for himself to listen and pick through later for both songs and hellfire. I bet he’d record over old tapes too so some of them are a little wonky.

Anyway yeah that’s the idea. You forgetting Eddie’s voice and Dustin leaving a tape for you to remember it by.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #gender neutral reader #dustin henderson #my eyes are killing me

22 notes · View notes

theseeingfawn · 20 hours

Text

My Elriel Subscription list on AO3

Below are the MANY Eriel fics I am currently subscribed to and DYING for more of…

🌹A Court of Blooming Sight by katkos96

Summary: Post ACOSF and HOFAS Eriel fan fic! This fan fic will try and stay as canon as possible, with theories based off of many lovely creators as well as my own. There may be some head canons involved, as we have not had a book come out yet, but any theories and the minds behind them will be tagged. This is duel-pov between Elain and Azriel!

🌹A Court of Sunlight and Shadows by Ahimadala

Summary: Just when Elain thought she had found balance since her life was turned upside down, someone begins to doubt the true nature of her powers. Koschei threatens the fragile peace that has settled over Prythian with his search for the cauldron. However, its power is now inextricably linked to the one who has been gifted by it.

🌹A Match Baked In Heaven by NikeTheStatue

Summary: Elain Archeron, owner of the prestigious Marigold Agency, which specializes in exclusive matchmaking has a new and very challenging client. Azriel Night, football superstar, 'stubborn as a mule' (according to his brother Cassian), handsome womanizer is under pressure to find himself a wife. At stake--a 230 million inheritance.

🌹A Shot in the Darkest Dark by yourstarsmyscars Summary: It was always those who understood fate the least who spoke most freely of it, as though the future were a path carved of marble, all roads leading in one direction, and one direction alone. It was always meant to be this way, they said, never understanding that fate was chaos and not order, madness with no clarity. And fate could be changed, if you knew which strands to pluck.

🌹Chiaroscuro (Series) by Meraki_Moonglade/a>

Summary: A collection of beautifully told stories on the budding relationship between Elain and Azriel.

🌹Cruel Summer by slythrhys

Summary: With a broken heart and a bruised ego, Elain tries to survive a week living alongside Azriel in her family's summer home, where they all gather to celebrate Nesta and Cassian's wedding.

🌹Everywhere, Everything by duskandcobalt

Summary: Two close friends, one crossed line… After a decade of friendship, Elain and Azriel are left to navigate the fallout following an encounter that's far from platonic. or A friends to lovers fic about denial and longing.

🌹Forgotten Bonds by noedovenest

Summary: After the events of ACOSF, Elain is torn between exploring her bond with her mate and her growing affection for Azriel.

🌹Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow by Violetasteracademic

Summary: A week after Solstice, Elain is lost and heartbroken by Azriel's rejection. A surprise encounter with Lucien in the townhouse leads to an offer Elain wasn't expecting, and a readiness to face the future.

🌹High Infidelity by tswaney17

Summary: Elain and Azriel are fuck buddies, nothing more. But when a word slips out in the heat of the moment, their entire relationship comes to a screeching halt.

🌹Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince by yourstarsmyscars

Summary: Fresh off a brutal break-up, Elain is in need of a distraction. A casual fling. One no strings bad idea, with a guy she definitely won't get attached to, so she can finally move on. Azriel has lost count of the number of women who've come to regret meeting him. But while he may be the worst idea Elain has had in a while, he's determined to prove that she won't regret him.

🌹Satin and Steel by airelemental

Summary: Princess/Knight alternate universe. Elain Archeron is on her way to visit her sister, the newly crowned queen of Prythian. With no romantic prospects and a new inheritance of all of her parents' land and most of their wealth, Elain wants nothing more than to lead a quiet life where she's finally in charge of her own destiny. Upon her arrival, King Rhysand appoints his highest ranking knight, Sir Azriel, as her royal guard and chaperone. She thinks he's a brute and is appalled at the idea of someone following her around everywhere she wishes to go during her stay. He finds her spoiled and can think of a thousand different ways to better spend his time.

🌹Shining Through That Moonless Night by tealeaves_and_rosepetals

Summary: Good intentions went wrong on the night of Solstice, and ever since, Elain and Azriel have struggled through days that felt darker and colder without the joy of the secret love that grew between them. Yet for both of them, a tiny glimmer of hope remains, bright and unyielding.

🌹Spy. Seer. Scout. by KiwiKaboom tealeaves_and_rosepetals

Summary: She knew she was still worlds behind both her sisters. It wasn’t until she had thrust the blade into Hyberns' neck that her healing had truly been able to begin.

Elain starts to consider what -she- wants. Why shouldn't she have both?

#azriel x elain #elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #elriel fic

27 notes · View notes