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palettesofrenaissance · 2 months

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𝐀 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 by Em_Jaye (@idontgettechnology)

“What if you had someone else to help you run the boat?” he asks finally.

Sam laughs and looks at him sideways. “What? Like you?”

Bucky shrugs like it just occurred to him. Maybe it did. But it feels good. It feels like the kind of decision that’s just his. Not shiny around the edges, letting him know it was grown in someone else’s mind before being dropped into his. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Sam repeats. “Because you don’t know shit about fishing.”

“Well, from the sounds of it, neither do you.”

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Slow Burn, Family Feels, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 12

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ask-the-becile-boys · 3 months

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Fic: Piano Lessons (Crosspost)

Word Count: 3501

Summary:

It’s 1918, and a young Hare has been sent to teach piano to Ignatius Becile, his maker’s oldest estranged son. But Ignatius is thirteen, full of that age’s anger and desperation, and in Hare he sees an opportunity to impress the father he’s never met.

With thanks to BlueSpine for the prompt and some ideas, and to Dionysus for helping break my writer's block!

　　1918.

　　“So, you and Pops was pen pals?” Hare asked.

　　The Widow Becile’s lips twitched up in a faint smile. “He’d never call it such. But yes, we initially traded correspondence while he was incarcerated. His letters were dictated, of course, due to his injuries.”

　　The Widow Becile was not, in truth, a widow. Thadeus Becile was still very much alive; Hare had seen him just that morning. But notoriety made waves, and the Widow was a quiet woman.

　　Hare didn’t know anything about Delilah Morreo beside her name, and he couldn’t have started to guess why Pops had liked her so much. But he could see why Pops liked this woman enough to marry her on the sly: she was smart, distant, and her eyes were cunning as knives, just like him.

　　Why they’d had two kids together, and what strings they had pulled to make the first one happen while Pops was still behind bars, Hare didn’t dare ask.

　　They sat in the Widow’s garden at a little tea table with a glass top. The two-story townhouse it surrounded was painted pale yellow, with little patches of decorative ivy crawling up the sides. The flowers were bountiful and the bushes long in the tooth, and Hare watched white butterflies dance above the leaves. It was small compared to the Becile Estate where Hare lived, but it was just as silent, like a painting no one could touch.

　　Hare, the Widow, and the baby Norman had been sitting there for half an hour, he judged by the church bells. Hare tried to be polite as he could be for the lady as she patiently grilled him with question after question, Norman sleeping silently in her arms. How old was Hare? Just over a year, ma’am. (That made him about a year younger than Norman.) How long had he played piano? Most of his life. Did he enjoy playing? Oh, yeah, loved it. Loved performing, too. She should come see, sometime. Was he good? Well, he liked to think so.

　　Good. The house was too quiet for a boy Ignatius’ age, a hale thirteen. He needed something to do with his hands beside tinkering.

　　The wooden gate clattered close behind a row of bushes nearby. Hare turned in his seat, already watching the space when Ignatius came around the corner. The boy was halfway into his growth spurt, a little lanky but not yet tall, features starting to sharpen under his short curls and large glasses. His school uniform was clean, if slightly wrinkled, but the bulging backpack over his shoulder was well-loved. Ignatius pulled up short, seeing Hare, and his face flashed darkly for a second before dissolving into a carefully practiced blank.

　　If the Widow had caught the piercing look, she didn’t react. “Ignatius, welcome home. You remember I asked your father to send one of his robots to teach you the piano. This one is named Hare.”

　　“Pleasure’s all mine, kid,” Hare said affably, standing.

　　Ignatius nodded slowly. There was a second-too-long pause before he said, “Nice to meet you.”

　　Oh boy, Hare thought. Hare might have been young, but he had a knack for reading people, and this boy was simmering.

　　“Go drop off your school books and change your clothes,” The Widow Becile said to Ignatius calmly. “You may have a moment to breathe while I show Hare the piano.”

　　The new stand-up had been placed in the parlor next to a large window, angled perpendicular to the wall. Hare had stuffed his vents with filters to minimize his dark smoke, not wanting to pollute what he’d correctly assumed to be a lovely residence, but he was relieved to see the window all the same. He swung the frames outward and sat down on the piano bench, lifting the fallboard and casting his green eyes over the keys. The ivory was as white as clouds and shone in a way Hare had never seen on another instrument. He tentatively pressed middle C and smiled at the bright tone. Giddy at the opportunity, Hare set his hands on the keys and began to play ragtime, improvising a riff. He almost didn’t hear the floorboards behind him creak.

　　“Mother won’t be happy if you teach me that music,” Ignatius drawled. Hare turned to see him standing in the doorway, arms folded, head slightly cocked to the side as he regarded Hare through his glasses. “She says ragtime and jazz are for scoundrels.”

　　Hare paused, then lifted a brow. “Yeah? And what do you think?”

　　“I think it’s a glaring over-generalization, and I don’t see how music could predicate moral fiber,” Ignatius said. “After all, Mother says my father prefers classical music, and he’s a bastard.”

　　Hare whistled an impressed, sliding note. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Hare said, readying himself to spar.

　　“Of course I do. If she doesn’t know I swear, she can’t know the difference,” Ignatius said, walking into the room. “All the same, I’m not interested in offending her over something so trivial, so you’d best stick to teaching me the classics.”

　　“Is that what you’re interested in?” Hare asked. “’Cause I was gonna teach you theory, first, unless all you want is to play by rote.”

　　That gave Ignatius a moment of pause. “Theory? Like science?”

　　“You could spin it that way,” Hare said.

　　“I’m surprised you know that much,” Ignatius said frankly. “Were you programmed to know it?”

　　“Nope. But I got better recall than most humans. Makes learning patterns real easy.” Hare scooted over on the bench and nodded toward the empty space next to him. Ignatius grimaced slightly, hesitating, before he sat down.

　　Ignatius was a quick study when it came to principles, and Hare could see the growing wear and tear on the study books he lent the boy, but he got frustrated when his muscle memory couldn’t keep up. Hare came back twice a week, and he tried to be friendly, tried to be encouraging. But Ignatius kept him at arms length, his gaze always calculating when he looked Hare in the eye. Occasionally Norman would toddle into the room and watch them, ever silent, often chewing on his thumb or a part of his shirt. Ignatius would pointedly ignore him.

　　“This one’s a Hare Becile original,” Hare said, placing a few sheaves of sheet music on the stand. The notes were written in sharp, inky scratches. “I made the arrangement easier than the way I play it, but the melody line’s the same.”

　　Ignatius looked the papers over, his lips slightly moving as he worked through the solfège and rhythm. He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to dumb your music down for me,” he said bluntly.

　　“Ain’t ‘dumbing down,’ Ig’, it’s adapting,” Hare said.

　　“How do you play it?” Ignatius challenged.

　　Hare rolled his head to the side in a feigned stretch, smirked, and started playing. It was a dark sound, minor and slick, with high trills and a low, continuous rumble. His hands flashed across the keys, jumping between octaves, and when it was over, Ignatius was wide-eyed and silent.

　　“How am I supposed to catch up to you?” Ignatius eventually blurted out. “I’ll never be able to play like that!”

　　“What, giving up before you’ve tried?” Hare asked. “That ain’t the Becile way.”

　　Ignatius shot him a pointed look. “You’d know better than me,” he grumbled. “But what’s the point if you’re always going to be second best?”

　　Hare thought for a moment. “You enjoy being alive?”

　　“Of course,” Ignatius said moodily.

　　“You ever feel more alive than usual? Even in a bad way?” Hare laid a hand gently on the piano keys. “That’s the point. Your ‘best’ isn’t about being better than someone else, it’s about the ride.”

　　“You say that,” Ignatius said slowly. “What about Walter’s band of robots?”

　　Hare stiffened up. “What about them?”

　　“My father made you to compete with them, didn’t he? I saw them at the World’s Fair. It doesn’t take a genius to see the connection.”

　　Hare felt the fire in his chest burning hotter. He hadn’t seen Rabbit for most of a year-- not since her conscription into the war overseas. For all he knew, she’d never return. Maybe if she didn’t, their rivalry would stop haunting him-- but then he kicked himself. Wishing for Rabbit’s destruction was a step too far. “Look, that’s… complicated. More complicated than I wanna talk about. You don’t got that problem.”

　　“Don’t I?” Ignatius muttered.

　　“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hare asked.

　　“Forget it. Let me hear the simplified arrangement so I can get started practicing.”

　　“Piano’s getting out of tune,” Hare said a few weeks later.

　　Ignatius quirked an eyebrow and stopped playing. “It sounds fine to me.”

　　“It ain’t by much, but it’s there, in the low notes.” Hare looked out the window that was directly to the piano’s left. “It’s probably from the weather.”

　　“Well, we have to keep it open for you during lessons,” Ignatius said. “I don’t want to choke.”

　　“This may be a shock, Ig’, but the temperature around windows is always a bit more like the other side,” Hare said. “Even when the pane’s closed.”

　　“Can you even feel temperature?” Ignatius asked.

　　Hare blinked. “No. I just… know that.”

　　Ignatius rolled his eyes. “Fine. Do you want me to stop playing?” he asked, lifting his hands from the keys.

　　Hare hummed thoughtfully. “Well, now I gotta think. I don’t want you getting used to an off tune. But if you can’t hear the difference yet, it shouldn’t matter. It’s gonna drive me batty, though.” Hare performatively stuck his pinky finger in his ear, as if trying to shake out a bout of tinnitus. “Course, it really comes down to your mother paying for a tune up.”

　　Ignatius was quiet as Hare talked. His eyes followed Hare’s hand as he lowered it from his head.

　　“Hey,” Ignatius said. “Could you take off your gloves? I want to see how your hands work.”

　　Hare startled at the request. “Uh, sure, I guess,” he said. He peeled his gloves off gingerly. He never touched a piano without them on; his fingertips were too thin to hit the keys correctly and so sharp as to leave scratches. “Mind the blades.”

　　Ignatius seized his right hand first, turning it this way and that. “You don’t have a lot of plating here,” he observed. “The mechanics are exposed in places, like you’ve been flayed. Fascinating.”

　　“Flayed? Gross,” Hare said. “They’re just like that so’s they’re easier to fix.”

　　“And the gloves act as sheathes,” Ignatius mumbled. He ran an index finger along the length of one of the blade edges, then pulled back with a hiss, blood blossoming on his fingertip.

　　Hare jerked his hand away, head starting to swim in an unfamiliar way at the sight of the blood. “I told ya’!” he said, standing. “Criminy, you know where the bandages are? Kitchen? Bathroom?”

　　“Kitchen. But it’s barely a papercut,” Ignatius grumbled.

　　“Don’t care, we’re patching it up anyway.” Hare stuffed his hands back into his gloves and headed for the kitchen. “I ain’t going back to Pops to tell him you got lockjaw ‘cause of me.”

　　Hare didn’t reply when, as he stepped out of the room, he heard Ignatius quietly say, “Like he’d care.”

　　Things continued in their passable way for a few months. Ignatius’ playing improved steadily, if not quickly. He even guardedly asked for pointers on composing his own music, scrawling out fragments on scrap paper and collecting them in a folder. Hare thought they were making progress, and he didn’t think much of the occasional times Ignatius asked to look at his hands.

　　Then the Widow was invited to see Pops.

　　Ignatius’ face was dark as storm clouds as Hare helped the Widow into her coat. He sat at the piano, chewing his lower lip, glowering at the sheet music in front of him.

　　“Watch your brother, Ignatius,” the Widow said over her shoulder to his back. “If there’s any problems, the neighbors are home.” Only Hare caught the slow turn of Ignatius’ head, how he stared at her with one eye.

　　Hare offered the Widow his arm as they left the house, and she took it. He tried to keep her talking as they walked to the streetcar, hoping it would be enough to distract her from Ignatius following them. All things considered, the kid was stealthier than Hare expected, but he chose amateur hiding spots. Hare guided the Widow to a seat on the streetcar so that she faced away from the way they’d come, and he thought they lost Ignatius there.

　　They met The Skull at the gates of the Becile Estate. He doffed his hat for the Widow, muttering a quiet, “Ma’am.” He then led them up the remnants of the gravel trail to the house, pausing to take the Widow’s coat and hat at the door, and through the halls to Pops’ study.

　　After the door to the study clicked close behind the Widow, Hare grabbed The Skull’s arm and started pulling him down the hallway. “Listen, Skulls, we gotta do a sweep. Their oldest kid, the one I’ve been teaching piano, he was following us part of the way.” Hare said quickly. “I don’t know if he caught the next trolley after us, but Pops’ll have our hides if the kid shows up uninvited.”

　　The Skull nodded, and they split ways at the parlor. Hare searched one wing of the house, while The Skull searched the other. Hare could hear The Jack practicing his violin in the basement as he passed by the stairs, and he decided not to get him involved.

　　A muffled shout caught Hare’s attention. He ran to the noise to find The Skull holding a struggling Ignatius by the open kitchen window, some of the clutter from the counter knocked onto the floor around their feet. Ignatius, seeing Hare, slowed his flailing and sullenly glared at him from under his brows. He wore his ragged backpack, the straps barely hanging onto his shoulders after his fight against capture.

　　“What’s a’ matter with you? You hate your old man,” Hare said in a hushed tone. “Your mom’s gonna rake you over the coals for leaving Norman alone.”

　　“I locked him in his crib,” Ignatius said. “He won’t get out before I get back.”

　　Hare shook his head. “Cripes, kid. You gotta know Pops won’t see you.”

　　“Exactly,” Ignatius said vehemently. “I want to know why.”

　　“Ig’, we live with the guy, and we don’t know why he does half the things he does,” Hare said. “He don’t take kindly to questions and takes even less to surprises. You gotta scram.”

　　“Like hell,” Ignatius snarled. “You don’t get it. You’re just a machine. Why did he even make you? Why did he give mother Norman when he refuses to speak to me? What am I here for?!”

　　Hare stared at Ignatius for a moment, then traded looks with The Skull, before sighing, allowing a cloud of dark smoke to pass his vents. “Pops might not want you around, but your mother does. Sometimes, that’s gotta be enough.”

　　“Well, it’s not! Let go of me!” Ignatius demanded, eyes wet. “I’m going to get answers!”

　　Hare shook his head. “You got two choices-- you go home with dignity, or we carry you back like a sack of screaming potatoes. Look, I’m sorry. I know it ain’t fair.”

　　Ignatius inhaled, meaning to shriek, only for The Skull to clamp a hand over his mouth. The Skull gave Hare a confused look, obviously uncomfortable using force on a child, but held him tight regardless.

　　“What do we do?” The Skull asked Hare.

　　Hare ground his teeth as he thought. “We gotta get him outta the house. I don’t wanna gag him, but if we’re gonna carry him--”

　　“That will be unnecessary.”

　　The three froze as Pops walked into the room. The Widow hovered in the doorway behind him, looking at Ignatius with disappointment.

　　“The Skull, release him,” Pops said flatly.

　　The Skull obeyed, and Ignatius took a teetering step forward, regaining his balance, eyes locked on Pops.

　　Hare winced and said, “We tried to take care of things. Figured you wouldn’t want your visit interrupted. We can take him home--”

　　“You will.” Pops regarded Ignatius with all the passivity of a wall. “But first, I intend to reduce his reasons to invade my home a second time.”

　　Ignatius, his mouth a thin line, unslung his backpack and darted a hand into it. Without a word, he pulled a contraption out of the bag, its parts clicking against each other as he held it out for Pops to see. “I made this,” Ignatius said flatly.

　　Hare stared at the thing, not immediately comprehending what he was looking at. Then the bottom dropped out of his furnace, and he felt impossibly sick

　　Ignatius was holding a replica of Hare’s hand.

　　Pops’ brow lifted a fraction, and he held out his own metal-encased palm to take the replica. Ignatius shuffled forward a few steps and passed it over, watching Pops closely as he examined the construction.

　　“Where did you get the parts for this?” Pops asked Ignatius, testing the range of motion of a finger.

　　Ignatius hesitated for a second, avoiding his mother’s gaze, before saying, “Junkyards. Scrap metal and broken toys. A few pocket knives.”

　　“And you made this to impress me?”

　　“No.” Ignatius straightened up proudly. “I made it to prove that I could.”

　　Hare wished he could melt into the floor tiles. The Skull was avoiding looking at him, his hands nervously clenching.

　　“I see,” Pops said. He gave the replica back to Ignatius. “I’m loathe to reward you for breaking in. But I suppose if you’re going to pursue mechanical engineering under the Becile name, I would rather oversee your development. You’re old enough now to not be a nuisance.” Pops looked down at Ignatius through his glasses. “I’ll discuss a schedule with your mother. Bare in mind that you’re starting on thin ice. You will not enter this house again without my permission. Understood?”

　　“Yes,” Ignatius breathed. He glanced at Hare and grinned. Hare did not grin back.

　　The Widow cleared her throat. “I’m not exactly opposed,” she said. “But if it’s all the same, I’d like him to continue his piano lessons as well.”

　　Hare frowned and folded his arms, tucking his hands out of view. Before he could protest, Pops spoke again.

　　“There may not be time. But we shall see.” Pops looked at The Skull, who snapped to attention. “The Skull, get my guest’s coat for her. You’ll escort her and Ignatius to the streetcar.”

　　“Yes, sir,” The Skull said. He barely glanced at Hare as he swiftly left the room.

　　The Widow held out her hand to Ignatius, who slowly passed Pops to go to her. They followed The Skull, leaving Pops and Hare alone.

　　“You disapprove,” Pops said.

　　“Am I weird for feeling weird about it?” Hare asked, a note of pleading in his voice. “He didn’t tell me he was doing it. He didn’t ask. He just copied me like, like a thing, like a piece of homework.”

　　“Hare, you are a thing,” Pops said.

　　“Yeah,” Hare’s voice faded to a whisper as he looked at the ground. “But he don’t gotta treat me like one.”

　　Pops shrugged. “In any case, I expect you to continue to be respectful. Keep your reservations to yourself, and if time allows for your piano training, challenge him.”

　　Hare narrowed his eyes. “… You got it, Pops.”

　　Over the next four years, Hare and Ignatius’s lessons became more ever more sporadic. Hare never shook the feeling of violation, and while he was not a cruel teacher, he wasn’t proud of the spitefulness that churned in his chest when he was cool in the face of Ignatius’ improvement. It was only when Ignatius formally ended their lessons and Hare felt a wave of relief that he realized just how long he’d held the grudge.

　　Ignatius seemed to thrive under pressure-- at first. He devoured the books on engineering Pops assigned him, kept his grades up in school, learned to dance his skilled fingers across the ivories. He was hard-working, prodigious. As far as talent went, he was everything a man could hope for in an heir.

　　At seventeen, he broke.

　　Hare could hear Ignatius screaming from the other side of the manor, though the words weren’t clear. When The Jack and The Skull started to stand up from their game of cards, he shook his head.

　　“You guys really wanna get between those two?” he said quietly.

　　The Jack and The Skull traded looks, and they awkwardly sat back down.

　　“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Hare muttered. He looked at his hand for a moment, balled it into a fist. “Let him burn his bridges.

　　“I never liked how he looked at me, anyway.”

#becile bots #steam powered giraffe #steam powered giraffe fanfiction #hare becile #ignatius becile #thadeus becile #the skull becile #canon fic #the widow becile #piano lessons #fanfiction #bonus update

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kpforpresident · 26 days

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Would Clarke ever get a tattoo in any of your fics?

Canon Clarke, absolutely. I read a fanfic (The Lady and the Laborer, which all of you should go read if you haven't) that mentions that Clarke gets a tattoo of Lexa's war paint. I could see Clarke getting a band around her forearm to match the swirling black of Lexa's paint, something to trace absentmindedly in long meeting while Lexa is called away to be Heda elsewhere.

#canon fic #can you feel my heart #clexa

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youchangedmedestiel · 3 months

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I haven't got the time to work on my fics lately, especially last week. I was busy and my brain couldn't focus on that. So I didn't even write a single word. And I miss it. Fortunately, next week will be calmer so I'll be able to.

In the meantime, if you didn't get the chance to read those, here are the last 6 fanfics I wrote (every fics are based on canon with little changes obviously), each link is on the titles:

SMUT

Thanked as deserved: Post 15x19

Castiel stays at the bunker, while Sam and Eileen go to hunt what happens to be a new kind of wraith. And Dean goes to work on his own werewolf case alone, he needs time to think now that Cas is back from the Empty. When he comes back from the hunt, he has a small cut on his cheek and his muscles are sore, Castiel offers to take care of the last one and thanks him for saving people, saving the world, like he deserves it. He doesn’t just massage his back.

Inspiring Fanfiction: Post 10x05, I updated this one with a 2nd smutty chapter

Dean discovers fanfics about Destiel, thanks to Marie, the high school girl that directed the show about their lives. She sent him some fic links to read, when she saw his reaction about Destiel. That’s how Dean ends up reading the one fiction that disturbs him in a way he couldn’t have imagine. And then I have to face Cas at some point.

NO SMUT

A gift to listen and keep: If you're still in a Christmas mood. Post 12x14, famous mixtape mentioned.

The brothers are back on good terms with their mother after the Alpha vampire was killed by Sam at the British Men of Letters' headquarters. Dean forgave her for working with them. He got scared of losing her again. Plus he - they - almost lost Cas not so long ago. So he decided that those reasons, and his mother being back from the dead should be good enough to celebrate Christmas this year.

Need for comfort: 14x08

Jack just died. Sam leaves the kitchen first after their drinking session to mourn Jack together as a family, leaving Dean and Cas alone. They drink a little bit more, just the two of them. Then Cas decides to leave the kitchen, but Dean calls him once he is in the hallway. The angel turns around and comes back to Dean.

There is nothing stupid about you and me: 10x09

Dean and Cas are on their burger date while Sam searches on how to find Claire. They talk about the Mark, but their conversation doesn’t just stop there like on the show. Instead, Dean tells Cas about the high school kids’ show about their lives, based on Chuck’s books, Sam and he attended to. He even mentions Marie and her view on Cas and Dean’s relationship, allowing him to know how Cas feels about it.

Healing guilt: Post 11x03

Dean refuses to be healed by Cas, after Cas beat him when he was under Rowena’s dog spell, because he feels guilty about almost killing Cas when he had the Mark of Cain. But Cas thinks about a plan to heal him anyway without Dean knowing.

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gerec · 1 year

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Hey! I hope you're doing well. I was wondering if you know any fics where the First Class kids + Charles and Erik are just having adventures and stuff. Or any fic where Erik and Charles are being a fun couple. Thank you!

Oh boy Anon so sorry for the delay with this one! I had this in my drafts folder and forgot about it for a week eek!!! Anyway, here's a list of canon compliant fics I hope you enjoy :D

and now you will not be alone any more by pocky_slash

Erik gives driving, sewing, and cooking lessons, soothes nightmares, bolsters self-esteem, and still can't figure out why Charles keeps smiling at him like that.

In Plain Sight by arcapelago (arcanewinter)

A story where Charles and Erik have basically been together from the first time they met. The whole fate, wow we found each other thing. Now I would like the others not to know and try to bring the two 'oblivious' guys together.

Date Night by smilebackwards

Erik thinks he would be more touched at the children's obvious investment in his and Charles' relationship if it didn't imply such a lack of confidence in his abilities.

Idiot Control Now by cygnaut

Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone's powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it.

This Crazy Game Called Life by chiasmus

Raven declares game night in the mansion. Sean finds an elephant, Erik inherits one hundred unwanted cats, and Charles scars Hank for life with misdirected dirty thinking.

And If You'll Come I’ll Take You Somewhere To Go by luninosity

Yes,” Charles says, rather apologetically even though this can’t possibly be his fault, “you seem to be me. And I…well, I’m you. At the moment.”

“Charles,” Erik says, with what he considers quite remarkable patience under the circumstances, “how long is this going to last?”

and admit that the waters around you have grown by thedeadparrot

"I would never turn away another mutant in need," Charles says. He reads Erik's mind blatantly and without shame these days. Erik supposes he deserves it. "And you, my friend, are needier than most."

You Can't Help Yourself by abbichicken

Prompt: Everyone has to notice that Erik is a very handsome man. So naturally there'd be crushes, harmless flirting, etc. Charles is apparently the jealous type, which nobody expects, so at first everyone is confused by the random headaches, his acting kind of weird, and so on.

Childish Things by fengirl88

Everyone has a weakness somewhere, but he'd never have imagined Charles's could be something so simple. So childish.

You think they'd be surprised if they knew? by widgenstain

The kids are talking about how things work between Charles and Erik. They make assumptions that aren't true and generally misinformed. Except for Angel of course.

Unicorns Are Forever by xsilverdreamsx

“I think I’ve read this story before. Two people switch bodies and they end up having sex so that they can switch back,” Sean offers unhelpfully.

Everyone looks at him in horror.

#gerec rambles #cherik #fic rec #gerec's fic rec #canon compliant #canon fic #mansion fic #xmfc

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im-95-not-dead · 24 days

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Everybody Needs Somebody on ao3

Pairing: Clint Barton & Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: T

Event: @buckybarnesevents Build A Bucky Bingo 2023 || April prompt: gradually moving in together

Tags: canon, Fraction-inspired Clint, mostly wholesome, Clint and Bucky have issues, roommates, platonic winterhawk, Lucky the pizza dog

Summary:

“He… lives with you. Since when?” Natasha asked.

Clint shrugged. “Dunno. Couple weeks or so, maybe more.”

Part 4 of Build A Bucky Bingo 2023

[Feb/Mar are still in progress]

#build a bucky bingo 2023 #babb2023 #bucky barnes events #bucky Barnes #Clint Barton #canon fic #comics #Matt fraction #Hawkeye #winter soldier #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #winterhawk #platonic

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asleepingtiger · 2 months

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Walking Among Wolves: Chapter 3 - Half Moon

Little Snippet

“You are stupid Raven,” Anya sighed, she stood up from the bed and poured some fresh water from a clay jug in a small bowl and reached into her satchel that was attached to her belt. She pulled out some green leaves and some purple seeds.

“What have you got there?” Raven asked as she watched Anya crush them together and mixed them with the water creating some sort of paste.

Anya took her outside gear off and dropped it on the floor then grabbed the bowl of ingredients, she sat on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t know if it will help, but the purple flowers are good for the scent and then the green leaves are a medicinal plant, too much of it can make you…”

“High?” Raven offered and smirked when Anya looked at her amused.

“Yes, high is a good description.”

Anya scooped up the paste and rubbed it on Raven’s swollen knee. The carefulness with how Anya applied it was something Raven wouldn’t expect, Anya was gentle and rubbed carefully around the inflamed knee. The paste was cool and it was doing wonders for the throbbing pain.

“How does it feel now?” Anya was adding the last of the paste before rinsing her hands.

“Honestly, the coldness is helping,” Raven was surprised then looked at Anya, “Thank you, Anya.”

#raven and anya #ranya #lexa and clarke #clarke and lexa #ranya fic #ao3 fanfic #ao3feed #ranya the 100 #Anya the 100 #Raven the 100 #canon fic #clexa #clexa vibes #ranya vibes #anya and raven

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thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai · 5 months

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Can You Hear My Heartbeat Chapter 26 is live!

I apologise for the long wait that probably chased away a good fraction of the readers this story had last year. I am deeply grateful for everyone who hasn't given up on this story as well as for the handful of people who discovered it during the break and who kept reading up to this chapter. Thank you for staying from the bottom of my heart ❤️

Title: Abstractions of the heart and concretions on the ice

Summary:

Yuuri returns from the press conference and finds that the speech he has designed to lay bare his heart to a man larger than life, sowed tons of misconceptions and confusion. And these do nothing to disperse his greatest fear that Viktor might turn down his kokuhaku.

Excerpt & link below

The days following the Chu-Shikoku-Kyushu-Regionals had been an emotional rollercoaster for Yuuri. Drunk on the feeling of placing first and with a waning brain bruise, the annual press conference at which the skaters of Team Japan presented their themes for the upcoming Grand Prix Series had seemingly come and gone at lightning speed. When Yuuri reached the gate of the onsen, the rollercoaster in his stomach was nearing its final loop.

Swallowing, he took the handle of his suitcase and pulled it along the pathway to his home. A mild breeze rustled through trees, and the occasional golden leaf tumbled to the ground. Although he had been away for only one night, it was as if the Yuuri who had left this house had been replaced by another man on the way.

This is ridiculous, he thought as he pushed open the door. I’m still me. I’ve just had to work out some things.

Read the chapter here:

Seven years after YOI aired, probably not many fans have need of reading yet another novelisation, but if the following criteria appeal to you ⛸️ novelisation that fills all the gaps in the anime and answers all the open questions ⛸️ in-depth exploration Yuuri and Viktor as individual characters as their relationship, including lots of cute Viktuuri moments and banter ⛸️ attention to detail regarding canon-compliance and portraying in-character characters ⛸️ summer of mutual pining ⛸️ slow-burn ⛸️ canonical soulmates ⛸️ Japanese traditions and festivities ⛸️ smut (in the chapters I've posted so far, they're not there yet, but once they are... well... ) ⛸️and lots of fantastic figure skating I'd be happy if you check this one out!

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jessicanjpa · 7 months

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New Tale of Years one-shot posted!

1989: Fairy Wings and Playboy Cars (Remix)

Summary: Alice has a human admirer and shenanigans ensue. This one-shot is an expansion of the locker headcanon in this post. Thank you @poultryproductions for requesting this!

Word count: 4.5K

POV: Edward

Warnings: mild stalking and creepy thoughts (male student), discussions of body image and self-esteem

Read it on FFN here

Read it on A03 here

******

This is the 50th one-shot in this collection, and there will be many more! A good time to say thank you to all you lovely readers... your encouragement means so much to me ❤️

******

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inukag-archive · 2 years

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Hello, I just recently seen a post about InuKag SFW Canon list. Does it mean there's also a nsfw canon one or post canon? 👀

Also, thanks a lot for this page! I like your content and I think it's really nice you're helping everyone with fics! The Shiro Bat signal is also funny 😂 Amazing job, honestly, thanks for making time to brighten people s days by helping them find fics ❤️😊

Hello Nonnie! Thank you so much for your kind message -- it really means a lot to our team!

Below is a quick reference for all the canon setting fics (canon, canon div, post-canon) we've done through Sept 30th, 2022 (separated by SFW, NSFW, and MIXED LISTS), eat-up Nonnie!

SFW

Sept 2021 SFW List

Sept 2022 SFW List

Canon Firsts

NSFW

Dark Canon/Canon-Div

Sept 2021 NSFW List

Nov 2021 NSFW List

Realistic Canon

NSFW One Shots

MIXED LIST

Dates In The Modern Era

Post-Canon Oct 2021

Three-Year Gap

New Moon Inuyasha

Alt-Ending/Canon-Modern Era

Fill In The Gap

Post-Canon/Canon Fluff

#inukag archive #inukag fanfic #canon fic #post-canon fic #canon-divergent fic

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jikookficsdiarry · 1 month

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Just got a quick break from class and I'm back with a Canon compliant fic rec for you all!! Oh my days! this fic is just too beautiful, the emotions I felt reading this....jiminie and kookie just have my heart here🤍

Please do read tags:)

#jikook #jimin #jungkook #kookmin #mingukkie #jikook fic rec #jikook fic #jikook love #jimin fic #jungkook fic #canon fic #canon compliant

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my-ao3-library · 1 year

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every heartbreak has its season

Over and over Jeongguk watches as Jimin and Taehyung have moments after moments, hugging, sharing those secretive glances, touching and singing to each other, and him, Jeongguk, slotting himself in between them for a handful of seconds before they part and move on like nothing happened.

And that’s just how it is. How it seemingly always has been.

It’s Jeongguk by himself, and then Taehyung and Jimin together.

Alternatively, "Friends" gets under Jeongguk's skin and he almost ruins everything.

25,490 words.

#vminkook #established relationship #canon fic

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ask-the-becile-boys · 3 months

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Word Count: 3501

Summary:

It's 1918, and a young Hare has been sent to teach piano to Ignatius Becile, his maker's oldest estranged son. But Ignatius is thirteen, full of that age's anger and desperation, and in Hare he sees an opportunity to impress the father he's never met.

With thanks to BlueSpine for the prompt and some ideas, and to Dionysus for helping break my writer's block!

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kpforpresident · 2 years

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Chapter 4//

Birds warble cheerfully as the barest hint of orange cracks over the horizon, the sky lightening in small increments. The Commander stirs, blinking into awareness as she stretches and takes in her surroundings, a quiet groan escaping her lips as she rubs at a particularly angry knot in her shoulder.

A few feet away, Clarke slumbers on, golden tufts of hair peeking above a large red-brown fur the only sign of life.

Lexa smiles quietly as she rises to her feet. Journeying over to her saddle bag, she pulls out a small red apple and a bulging bag of sprouted oats. Letting them hit the ground beside her with a gentle thud , she crouches over, tidying the fire ring as she revels in the first hints of sunrise. As she works, glimmers of gold begin to shoot through the purple clouds, warming the ground. She tilts her face up to the glow, closing her eyes in the still of the moment.

A whuuf sounds in her left ear as an inquisitive muzzle nudges her in her ribs, soft hooves crunching a nearby twig. She laughs quietly, turning awkwardly in her squat to ruffle Epos’s forelock warmly. He blinks at her slowly, his dark eyes liquid in the gleam of dawn.

“I did not forget you, lukot.” Lexa says quietly, wary of Clarke sleeping close by. She stoops again, opening the bag of oats and slicing the apple in quarters. Leading him away to enjoy his breakfast a few paces further from the ruins, she grabs the bow and arrow that were in her other saddlebag and restrings it quietly, breathing in the very rare solitude as she eats the remaining slide of apple. Epos watches her contentedly as he chews through his mound of oats, tail swishing softly in the cool breeze.

In her first few months of being Heda, Lexa used to fight tooth and nail for a few moments of solitude, but gave up once it became too much work to balance with the constant and unrelenting pull of her people. She resigned herself to knowing that her time was no longer her own, and would never be again. Heda belonged to her people.

Slinging the quiver on her back, bow in hand, Lexa quietly vanishes into the forest, casting one last backwards look at Clarke’s form.

read the rest on A03 here

#clexa #can you feel my heart #canon fic #clarke x lexa

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youchangedmedestiel · 2 months

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So now I'm past 100 followers. Thank you so much, really! It makes me so happy :)

Here's my idea to celebrate. I read a lot of fics and keep them in my favorite pages on Chrome so I don't bookmark them on AO3 because I didn't have any AO3 account at the beginning and then I kept doing it like this.

Anyway, I used my own system to classify them. Soooo I was thinking of making a post with fic recs of my favorite fics for you. What do you say?

My fanfic tastes usually are: canon fic, first kiss, fluff, angst, and smut too. I read other types of course like established relationship sometimes.

So, would you be interested?

#destiel #deancas #castiel #dean winchester #100 followers #thanks guys #this is insane for me #fic recs #my favorite fics just for you #what do you say?#canon fic #getting together #first kiss #angst #fluff #smut #established relationship #my fanfiction tastes #my destiel fanfic

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caralara · 1 year

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Sunflower In My Garden - Chapter 8

Hey you guys, I finally updated my canon fic! It’s only been a 10 month hiatus or something oops lol

Harry discovers he quite likes a certain new undergarment, and Louis of course eggs him on in some mischief! We also got a new player introduced - Savan.

You can find my canon fic here on AO3!