genre fic




AUTHOR: bookwarm85


GENRE: Angst

FIC SUMMARY: Eric loses control…


WORDS: 1,670

NOTES/WARNINGS: This a request that I received by a lovely Anon, here you go I hope you enjoy it.


TRIGGER WARNINGS! This fic contains mentions of assault, accidental abuse, angst, heartbreak it’s a mixed bag of emotions. I just wanted to give people a warning before reading this story so that nobody is taken by surprise. If you’re not comfortable with this please don’t read it.


As usual a HUGE thank you to @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 for betaing this for me.


If you are not and would like to be tagged in this or any of my future stories then let me know and I’ll add you to the tag list.


@thihaf @audasia25 @anditcametopass @iammarylastar @frecklefaceb @societalfailure @badassbaker@insertamazingwords @ashtotes@oddsnendsfanfics @pathybo @shortstoryimagines @tigpooh67 @dahmousya @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @coralelizabeth @beltz2016 @kenzieam @lauraaan182 @jojuarez26


He hadn’t meant to do it, he hadn’t meant to hurt you. How could he even think about hurting you? You were the one who believed in him when everyone else around him wrote him off as being a heartless leader, the people in the faction had claimed he didn’t have a heart, that part was true, the heart that once resided in his chest now belonged to you.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

what's your favorite fic genre? like high school au's, not famous au's etc

I am a HOE for soulmate au’s oh my GOD like literally I could read hundreds of those ones where their names are tattooed on their arms before they meet eachother?? or their first words when the meet eachother?? or they only see color once they meet their soulmate it’s my favorite thing I love them all

JEANMARCO MONTH - Genre: Horror / Supernatural

Shamelessly promoting @avoidingavoidance my favorite, lovable flan! Their writing is absolutely marvelous! They’ve taught me everything I know about horror writing, atmospheric writing, and explicit writing, and I consider them one of my mentors. And this is not the first time I’ll be promoting them! I’m sure you’ve all heard of and read their horror works, but I’M GONNA HAPPILY YELL ABOUT THEM ANYWAYS.

Ghost Story
My name is Jean Kirschtein, and I have a shit job. I’m basically a garbage man. And by ‘garbage’ I mean 'very angry dead people.’ I guess it has its perks sometimes, though; I get to meet all kinds of interesting people.
This was one of the first JM fics I’ve ever read. And my first interaction with Charlie was when I got all caught up in the fic and I sent numerous asks to their account just praising their writing and content. This is one of the greats! It has to be in any and every rec list, hands down.

The Pear Tree
We stopped telling the story a long time ago. Once upon a time, though, people knew that the last person to die in a parish one year would have to hang back the next year and help Death get his shit together.
I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. 'Jean Kirschtein, Death’s secretary’ doesn’t exactly have a ring to it.
Not only is this my absolute favorite work by them, but it’s my favorite JM story of all time. Hell, it’s even among my favorite stories EVER. Jean is such a relatable character for me in this, and it’s constantly pulling at my heart strings. I’m always indulged into the setting and story, and I just love it so much! Just a warning: if anyone has as bad anxiety as I do (or has a heart and soul in general) you will cry at least five times, especially since moments of panic in this story are so relatable that you fully get immersed and greatly empathize with each character involved. I recommend this to anyone and everyone, not just JM fans. It’s universal!
there is no contest, no competition (and yet) - wartransmission - Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Yuuri loves him first, loves him before they meet, loves him with all the heart of a boy who only ever understood love on the ice.

But it is Viktor who falls first, falls hardest, falls with all the force of a man unprepared for Eros warm in his arms and heart.

General Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply

My comment: Short and super sweet at less than 200 words, but each word is chosen with care. You’ll want to read this one a few times, just because it’s so pretty.

TITLE: A Life to Remember


AUTHOR: a7xlizardqueen


FIC SUMMARY: A woman is found alongside Captain America in Antarctica. Who, and what, she is is a mystery.

RATINGS: M (violence, language, eventual sex)


AUTHORS NOTE: And the story begins to unfold…

Chapter Three

April 28, 2012

Sylvie didn’t know what to make of the tiny house Agent Hill, Director Fury, and Steve had taken her to. She was extremely grateful to them for all their help; S.H.I.E.L.D. had bought a park, she was told, and constructed this little house with as little electricity as possible and had planted as many trees around it as possible, but it was still inside the city of New York. The trees would suck up most of the pollution before it entered the house, but what would happen in the winter, when the trees died away. Sylvie could ask plants to grow for her, but no more than they were physically capable of doing on their own, she couldn’t make a daffodil grow to six feet, and certainly not in frozen ground. However she did understand S.H.I.E.L.D.’s desire to keep her close.

“You’re only a few blocks away from Captain Rogers,” Fury informed her, leading her up the stone path, pulling a key out of his pocket.

Steve pulled a small shiny device out of his jacket pocket and held it out to Sylvie, “They tell me this is a phone. There’s one for you, my number is on speed dial.”

Sylvie shook her head. “I don’t need that.”

“How will I know if you need me?”

“The wind will let you know.”

“How do I get ahold of you?”

“The wind will let me know.”

Steve smiled politely and Sylvie could tell he was trying to believe her. She saw Fury roll his eyes out of the corner of her eye. She understood it was hard for people to believe, sometimes it was hard for her to believe.

“All right,” Steve conceded, shaking his head a bit, “But please let me know if you need me. Even if it’s just because you’re lonely.”

Sylvie threw her head back and laughed, “Lonely? Steve, I can talk to animals! I’ll never be lonely. It’s [i]you[/i] that shouldn’t hesitate to come over if you’re lonely.”

Steve smiled and nodded, “I guess you’re right.”

“Here’s your key,” Fury said, holding the thick grey key out to her.

She looked at it for a moment, wondering what kind of strange materials it was made of. Everything in this day and age seemed to be partly or fully fake materials.

“It’s made of brass,” Fury said irritably.

Sylvie quickly snatched the key out of his hand before he decided it would just be easier to lock her up.

“Thank you,” she smiled, “Honestly. You didn’t have to be so kind to me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Fury agreed.

Steve gave her a small smile and kissed her cheek before the three of them walked back down the stone path and climbed into the giant, shiny, black vehicle, which she had been informed was called an SUV. Sylvie unlocked the door and walked in to find a very quaintly-decorated living room, nothing like the ornate rooms her mother used to redecorate with each season; there was a brown couch and a coffee table and bookcase made of pine. The bookcase was full of books, mostly on history, for her to read, and a record player sat in the front corner next to a window-seat. The record player, she was ensured, used very little electricity, so she had agreed to having one, she used to love listening to music with her mother.

Venturing further in to the house she found a small kitchen; for what she wasn’t sure, as she had yet to accept any of their food, choosing to eat the raw fruits and vegetables she grew herself. Down a hallway to her right was a bathroom with a deep tub and a shower head as well as a sink and toilet. She supposed she may use the room from time to time, but not often. Across the hall from that was a bedroom with a large, rather luxurious bed dressed in light green. It did look comfortable, Sylvie conceded to herself, but again she wasn’t likely to use it much.

Once she had inspected the house fully, Sylvie threw open all the doors and windows, allowing the wind to blow playfully through the thin white drapes. It took more of her concentration, but Sylvie held her hands out, calling to the Earth and to the plants, and slowly she began to sense their growth. The trees surrounding the property grew to their full height, the flowers planted in the garden out front bloomed bright. And after that, vines grew from the edges of the house, climbing the siding until the house was encased, slightly covering over the windows and doors and even crawling into the house itself to greet Sylvie warmly.


April 29, 2012

The next day Steve showed up. Sylvie was warned by the wind when he left his apartment, giving her time to dress. She figured now that she was alone most of the time, she could be as naked as she wanted. Steve stopped at the end of the property and then looked around, as if he was double checking that he was in the right place. He didn’t step forward until he felt a push on the back of his legs. He looked down to find a tabby cat gently nudging him. It mewed at him in a most irritated fashion, not that he could tell.

Steve walked up the stone path, now overgrown with grass and flowers, and walked up the few steps to the door; or at least the space that there should have been a door. Instead he was greeted by a wall of vines, which gradually moved aside to reveal the open doorway. He took a cautious step forward and stared around at the various plants that had settled themselves inside the small homestead, along with a various animals; cats, birds, a squirrel flitted quickly in to a shadow.

“Good morning Steve,” Sylvie said in a cheery voice, appearing at the end of the hallway. “How are you?”

“Fine, thanks,” Steve nodded and then gestured with his hands around the room, “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Sylvie shrugged playfully, “I couldn’t stand having them all locked out.”

“You aren’t afraid of someone coming in to your house, though?”

“Steve, no one gets in or out of here without my knowledge or approval,” she giggled. “What brings you by?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about your predicament with electricity.”

Sylvie nodded, urging him on. She went to sit at the window and Steve took a seat on the couch.

“I was thinking we could try to build up your tolerance. You can’t stay in here for the rest of your life.”

“Okay, what do you have in mind?”

“How about we go for a walk? Start small, and see if we can get you out there longer each time.”

Sylvie thought for a moment. It made sense to get out of her little haven. She’d never meet anyone if she never ventured out. But the headaches were terrible, and left her feeling weak. Her mother wouldn’t want her to be a recluse, though. Her mother loved meeting new people, loved social events. And Sylvie could tell that Steve needed a distraction.

“All right,” she finally answered, “I’ll never know if I don’t try, right?”

“That’s the spirit,” Steve said, jumping up from the couch.

Sylvie slipped on a pair of cork sandals and followed Steve outside.

“Aren’t you going to lock up, or something?” he asked, pausing in the doorway as Sylvie continued up the path.

Sylvie rolled her eyes, “Steve, no matter how far away I am, no one and no thing is going to get in that house without my knowledge or approval.”

Steve followed Sylvie down the stone path and caught up to her after she’d turned right at the end of the property, following the sidewalk.

“How do you know that?”

“Because they won’t let anything in.”


“The plants and animals. They are all devout friends of mine and would never let anyone near that I wasn’t okay with having there. They will stop anyone from getting near there and the wind will warn me beforehand that they’re coming. I knew the second you left your apartment today.”

“Do you always have the wind following me?”

“I don’t make the wind follow you,” she giggled lightly, “It’s always around, everything. It just warned me that you were coming over.”

“That’s actually pretty cool.”

Sylvie smiled cheekily at him and they continued to walk. It took a few minutes before Sylvie began to feel the humming intensifying in her head.

“How are you doing?” Steve asked when he noticed the uncomfortable look on her face.

“It’s starting to affect me, but nothing I can’t handle yet.”

“Well don’t let the pain intensify too much, I don’t want to have to carry you back. I’m afraid I might get mauled by your friends.”

Sylvie chuckled, “They wouldn’t maul you.”

“If you say so,” Steve smiled.

He had a really great smile, Sylvie thought to herself but didn’t voice, she didn’t want to make Steve uncomfortable, which happened quite easily, she’d found out during their week together at the Retreat.


May 1, 2012

Sylvie sat in her back yard, surrounded by her plant and animal friends, a blazing fire in front of her. Today should have been a special day. It was the day of her birth, and Beltane. She used to spend the day with her mother in the garden as the plants and flowers bloomed. They would eat sweets and giggle together and at night they would make a fire, and all the animals would come to pay their respects, and her mother would allow her to taste of the sweet nectar of the grapes. Sylvie fingered the red jewel at her throat, and wished that her mother could be there then. As accompanied as she was, by deer and birds and cats and various other species, she had never felt more alone.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday when I came by earlier?” Steve’s voice suddenly said from behind her.

Sylvie’s head whirled around to see Steve standing sheepishly at the back door of the house, a box of chocolates and a bottle of French wine in his hand. Sylvie quickly reached out for the white, cotton robe she kept nearby, just in case, wrapping it around her shoulders.

“Thanks so much for warning me, Wind,” she muttered.

“It’s not the wind’s fault,” Steve chuckled, “I told it not to tell you I was coming.”

“You spoke to the wind?” Sylvie smiled, amused.

Steve laughed a little harder, “It was the weirdest thing I’ve ever done. I was sitting at home, reading and then all of a sudden I heard a whisper. It was the wind, telling me that it was your birthday. Bring wine and chocolate.”

Sylvie laughed, a full body laugh that reverberated through her, “Of course it did.”

Steve sat himself down next to her in front of the fire and opened the bottle of wine, passing her the box of chocolates.

“Thank you, Steve,” she smiled, accepting the gifts.

“See, I told you you’d get lonely.”

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly, resting her head on his shoulder. “Thanks for being here.”

Steve wrapped his arm around her, “Happy birthday, Sylvie.”


May 3, 2012

Every day Steve came by to accompany Sylvie on a walk. Each day they walked farther. Each day Sylvie grew stronger. They began visiting various flea markets, which greatly interested Sylvie who had begun collecting books and trinkets. Their friendship was an easy one, Sylvie realized, even with all their differences they spoke easily to each other. They may have come from different places but as far as Steve was concerned, she was his only connection left to his life in the 1940’s. They found solace in each other.

However on that day, when Steve came to get her, his face was not that of her friend, easygoing and teasing; it was the face of a soldier.

“How far do you think you can get today?” He asked her.

“How far do you need me to go?”


Sylvie took a deep breath. She’d started walking by herself at times, she still never slept and there were only so many hours she could spend reading or conversing with the animals. She’d also been thinking about how she could walk farther, perhaps dirt in her pockets would help. Maybe carry a plant with her. So Sylvie told Steve to wait a moment as she grabbed a denim jacket and filled the pockets with dirt. She also placed a few seeds in the dirt, just to be sure. Steve watched as she did all this without saying a word, he’d gotten used to the strange things Sylvie did now and then. She slipped on a pair of white sneakers, she was told they were vegan, whatever that meant, and followed Steve’s lead.

Less than an hour later they were being escorted on to an air craft by an Agent Phil Coulson. He shook her hand and greeted her politely. Sylvie felt the dirt in her pocket before following him on to the aircraft. She stayed by Steve’s side as he was handed a shiny device, similar to the phone Steve had shown her before, only a little larger. On the drive over Steve had informed her of everything Fury had told him, about the Hulk and Iron Man and Thor and Loki and the Tesseract, how Loki and Thor were from a completely other planet. Sylvie couldn’t even fathom that there were beings on other planets, let alone that they were now trying to take over the world. She was surprised that Fury had allowed Steve to bring her with him, she didn’t think he trusted her very much. But Steve said Fury hadn’t fought him at all.

The device Steve was holding was playing a video. A large green man? was fighting against an army with huge weaponry at a beautiful large brick building.

“So, this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum that was used on me?” He asked Coulson.

“A lot of people were. You were the world’s first superhero. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine’s original formula,” Coulson answered.

“Didn’t really go his way, did it?”

“Not so much. When he’s not that thing though, guy’s like a Stephen Hawking.”

Steve and Sylvie both looked at Coulson, what was a Stephen Hawking?

“He’s like a smart person.”

“So, this is the guy that built the Retreat, right?” Sylvie asked.

“How do you know that?” Coulson asked.

“Don’t ask,” Steve said and Coulson shrugged.

“I gotta say, it’s an honour to meet you, officially,” Coulson smiled at Steve. “I sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping.”

Even Sylvie knew that sounded weird. Steve looked down and turned off the device. He stood and walked to the other side of the aircraft looking up towards the front. Coulson followed him.

“I mean, I was, I was present while you were unconscious from the ice. You know, it’s really, it’s just a, just a huge honour to have you on board.”

“Well, I hope I’m the man for the job.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes. As far as she could tell, Steve was the man for any job.

“Oh, you are,” Coulson assured him, “Absolutely. Uh, we’ve made some modifications to the uniform. I had a little design input.”

“The uniform? Aren’t stars and stripes a little -” Steve paused, searching for a word, “Old fashioned?”

“With everything that’s happening, the things that are about to come to light, people might just need a little old fashioned.”

What felt like hours to Sylvie but was only forty minutes later, they landed on a ship, on the ocean. Oh great, Sylvie thought, still not on land. She wondered if she could get the same energy from the water as she did from the Earth. She felt the dirt in her pocket again. There was a slight humming in her head but it eased up each time she put her hand in her pocket. When they stepped off they were greeted by the same redheaded woman that Sylvie had first met. She looked like walking sex, Sylvie thought wickedly.

“Agent Romanoff,” Coulson greeted and then gestured towards Steve and Sylvie, “Captain Rogers. Sylvie De La Mer.”

“Ma'am,” Steve said.

“Hi,” Agent Romanoff greeted them and then looked to Coulson, “They need you on the bridge. They’re starting the face-trace.”

“See you there,” Coulson left and Agent Romanoff led Sylvie and Steve away from the jet.

“There was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice.” Sylvie assumed Agent Romanoff was talking solely to Steve, she didn’t think anyone cared about her coming out of the ice. “I thought Coulson was gonna swoon. Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?”

“Trading cards?”

“They’re vintage, he’s very proud.”

The ship was teeming with personnel. The long grey craft was packed with other jets like the one they’d arrived in. Men and women in uniform constantly checking and rechecking each piece of equipment to make sure they were in good condition. Sylvie saw him before Steve. She recognized him from the image the oak cabin had given her. He was wearing a purple shirt that complimented his tanned skin very well and a sensible black blazer. He looked extremely nervous, and after seeing the video, she could understand why. He was attempting to dodge the many personnel who were constantly rushing back and forth. He was even better looking in person.

“Banner,” Sylvie called out, rushing forward to get a good look at him, circling him with a smile.

He turned around with her, keeping her in his line of sight. Bruce wrung his hands together nervously, his mouth falling open in awe. She liked what she saw even better up close. His black hair was streaked with just the slightest amount of grey. He was taller than Sylvie, but not by much, and underneath his crisp button-down she could tell that he had nicely defined muscles.

“Dr. Banner,” Steve greeted, pulling Bruce’s attention away from Sylvie.

Bruce shook Steve’s hand, “Oh, yeah. Hi. They told me you’d be coming.”

“Word is you can find the cube.”

“Is that the only word on me?”

“Only word I care about.”

Banner nodded thankfully and then motioned to the goings-on around them, “Must be strange for you, all of this.”

“Well, this is actually kind of familiar,” Steve smirked.

“Gentlemen, Miss De La Mer,” Agent Romanoff interrupted, “you may wanna step inside in a minute. It’s gonna get a little hard to breathe.”

The craft began to shake. A voice bellowed out from various speakers, “Flight crew, secure the deck.”

“Is this a submarine?” Steve asked.

“Really?” Banner said nervously, “They wanted me in a submerged pressurized metal container?”

Steve, Banner, and Sylvie moved closer to the edge. They watched as four huge lift fans mounted on the sides of the craft started to lift in the air. Steve watched in awe, Sylvie shoved her hands in her pockets, and Banner smiled nervously.

“No, no. This is much worse,” he sneered sarcastically.

They quickly followed Romanoff inside and a set of doors parted to reveal the bridge of the ship. Dozens of agents were sitting in front of screens. Agent Hill shouted instructions and Director Fury was standing at what looked to be a command centre. Each step inside made Sylvie more nervous. Not only was the place full of electric energy, but the volume of noise as agents yelled back and forth to each other was more than she was used to. Trees didn’t tend to yell.

“All engines operating. S.H.I.E.L.D. Emergency Protocol 193.6 in effect. We’re at level, sir,” Agent Hill said.

“Good. Let’s vanish,” Fury replied.

“Engage retro-reflection panels.”

“Gentlemen,” Fury called in greeting, “Miss De La Mer.”

Steve, attention completely held by the wonders of modern technology, strode forward, handed Fury a ten dollar bill, and then continued forward to stare out the mass of windows. Fury took it with a smirk and then approached Bruce, extending his hand. Sylvie remained by Bruce’s side, feeling just as nervous as he did, her hands buried deeply in her pockets.

“Doctor, thank you for coming.”

“Thanks for asking nicely. So, uh, how long am I staying?”

“Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you’re in the clear.”

“Where are you with that?” Bruce asked and Fury motioned towards Coulson standing in a pit to their left. Romanoff was a few feet away, looking at a picture of a man with short-cropped blond hair and a serious expression.

Coulson spoke up, “We’re sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cellphones, laptops. If it’s connected to a satellite, it’s eyes and ears for us.”

“That’s still not gonna find them in time,” Romanoff said.

“You have to narrow the field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?” Banner asked, removing his jacket, and suddenly he went from nervous to confident right before Sylvie’s eyes. He was spectacular, she thought, feeling a familiar tightening in her stomach.

“How many are there?” Fury asked.

“Call every lab you know, tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays, I’ll rough out a tracking algorithm based on cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?”

“Agent Romanoff, would you show Dr. Banner to his laboratory, please.”

Romanoff nodded and led Banner down a hall, “You’re gonna love it, Doc. We got all the toys.”


Sylvie felt quite uncomfortable as they waited for Bruce to locate the Tesseract. She continued to sift the dirt in her pockets between her fingers, double checking that her seeds were still there in case she might need them. The humming noise had begun to intensify and she was trying not to show Steve how affected she was. She wanted to be strong for him, she could tell he was in his element, on a mission. But she didn’t think they needed her there, she wasn’t a soldier like Steve, or a scientist like Bruce.

On top of that, no one seemed to care that she was there. That, or they didn’t want to acknowledge her because they didn’t trust her. By now most of the agents would have heard of her strange tendencies, and no doubt some would be frightened by her. Coulson was the only one who came close to her, and that was only because of Steve. Coulson asked Steve if he could sign his Captain America trading cards.

“I mean, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No, no,” Steve said, “It’s fine.”

“It’s a vintage set. It took me a couple of years to collect them all. Near mint, slight foxing around the edges, but-”

“We got a hit,” an agent announced, interrupting, “Sixty-seven percent match. Wait, cross match, seventy-nine percent.”

“Location?” Coulson asked, transitioning back in to agent-mode.

Out of curiosity Sylvie approached the screen where there was an image of a tall, slender man with long black hair in a crisp black suit and long black jacket. He, too, was extremely good looking. Why did all these men have to be so scrumptious, Sylvie wondered, it was making it difficult to concentrate.

“Stuttgart, Germany. 28, Konigstrasse. He’s not exactly hiding.”

“Captain, you’re up,” Fury defected to Steve.

Steve nodded. With a look he asked Sylvie to come along and she dutifully followed. Getting off this airship would be great.


Sylvie couldn’t help but stare at Steve as they flew towards Germany, Natasha Romanoff piloting the small jet. Steve was dressed in a tight red, white, and blue suit. It was extremely tight, Sylvie noticed, and bright, and somehow still extremely sexy. There had also been a black suit available for her, similar to what Natasha wore, but Sylvie had refused, opting to stick with her denim.

“Looking good, Steve,” Sylvie winked, causing Steve to blush. Sometimes she couldn’t help it, she enjoyed making Steve blush.

To prepare herself for a possible fight, Sylvie sifted the dirt in her pockets through her fingers again and then asked the vines to grow and wind themselves around her arms. Having them there reassured her and helped her to focus.

“Sylvie, I’m going in alone. Stay with Natasha in the jet.”

Sylvie nodded, slightly annoyed that she wouldn’t be able to touch the ground yet. When they came upon Loki in Germany he was dressed in stunning gold, green, and black armor, a massive horned helmet atop his head. He was breathtakingly gorgeous, Sylvie admitted and again she felt a tightening in her stomach. As beautiful as he was, he was also evil, at least that’s what they told her. He currently had a large group of people kneeling on the ground before him, his staff held aloft. All but one stood, an elderly man, and from what they could tell, he was about to use him as a martyr.

Steve dropped from the quinjet just as Loki sent a bolt of blue light aimed at the old man. The blue light bounced off Steve’s shield and hit Loki directly in the stomach, causing him to crumple to the ground. Steve stood, tall and proud. Loki reared his head up, a look of pure hatred on his face.

“You know, the last time I was in Germany, and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing,” Steve said cooly.

Loki stood, “The soldier. A man out of time.”

“I’m not the one who’s out of time.”

Natasha flew the quinjet down behind Steve, disabling the shielding and pointed a machine gun at Loki.

“Loki,” her voice rang out through a set of speakers, “Drop the weapon and stand down.”

With quick reflexes Loki shot a blast of blue light at the quinjet. With equal speed Natasha maneuvered out of the way and Steve took his chance to throw his shield at Loki. It bounced off Loki’s shield and Steve rushed forward to punch Loki in the face. It barely seemed to faze Loki who hadn’t even stumbled. Loki countered by attacking Steve with his staff and Steve flew back several yards, rolling quickly to his feet. Again, Steve threw his shield and Loki batted it away. Sylvie watched, wanting to help but not knowing what to do, Steve was being thrown around as if he were a child. Finally Loki had Steve on his knees and the tip of his staff on his helmet.

“Kneel,” Loki demanded.

Sylvie shifted uneasily next to Natasha, “Is it bad that he kinda makes me horny?”

Natasha gave her a scalding look before she corrected herself and smirked, “Which one?”

No one else would have caught the original emotion in Natasha’s eyes, the hatred that had rested there for a mere moment before her usual easy facade overtook, but Sylvie did.

“Not today!” Steve grabbed the end of the staff to pull himself up and to put Loki off balance. He then kicked Loki in the head but again Loki grabbed Steve and threw him away.

Sylvie dropped from the quinjet, rushing forward. “Stop!” she cried and before she knew what had happened her vines had shot forward to hit Loki, sending him back a few feet. She rushed to Steve’s side, not noticing the look of awe on Loki’s face. Before she could reach Steve the quinjet’s speakers began to blast loud, obnoxious noise. Sylvie recognized it as something people called music these days. What the hell was Natasha doing? Then a red and gold man in a metal suit flew in and blasted Loki with gold light, sending him flying back.

Iron Man, Tony Stark, stood and several guns emerged from his suit to point at Loki who was sprawled against the staircase.

“Make your move, Reindeer Games,” Tony said, and Steve and Sylvie joined him in front of Loki.

Loki raised his hands in surrender, his armor dematerializing. Sylvie felt heat rushing through her body. This close up, he was gorgeous with or without the armour.

“Good move,” Tony said, reigning in his weaponry.

“Mr. Stark,” Steve greeted.

“Captain,” Tony said tightly.
The Road Trip Project

Title: The Road Trip Project

Author: selustories

Genre: romance, au

Rating: pg

What will happen if the fresh graduate and the new COO team up for the company’s newest project? Meet LuHan, the newest member of the finance department and Oh Sehun, the youngest boss in the company, together they are given a task to go on a road trip for their first project the Oh’s water park hotel. Will things go as planned or will they encounter several detours ahead?

Grey- Chapter One



AUTHOR: lovecorrah


GENRE: Action/Angst/Thriller

FIC SUMMARY: Jean Grey, also known as The Phoenix, and a once integral part of The X-Men, has made a home for herself in a tiny town in Greenland, after having to disappear due to a tragedy, and her subsequent death. When a tall stranger arrives in her tiny town and tries to attack her, she knows that she must flee once again to protect the people that make their home there. What will happen when she finds out who this man is? The Avengers and some of The X-Men are also characters in this story, as they strive to keep Jean, and the world, safe.


AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Well, this will be a little different for me. I love The X-Men… they are probably my favorite group! (Jean Grey/The Phoenix is my absolute fave!) Anyway, I wondered what would happen when a thought-to-be-dead Jean Grey gets abducted by a certain Asgardian Trickster that is hell-bent on destroying the world? Many characters will get dragged into this story, Avengers, and X-Men… Loki and Logan (The Wolverine) will definitely have  major parts, however, and will be in it the whole time. If this isn’t your thing, that’s totally cool! I just wanted to see what it would be like to write as Jean. The chapters may be told from different character’s points of view until everyone gets together… we’ll see. :) 

FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: I’d love to hear any feedback/comments/criticisms! <


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themadkatter13  asked:

(I'm sure you don't have a terrible vocab, I'm probably just picking the wrong words for the genre of fic you've got in progress. lol) Fanfic WIP Guessing Game (try #3; I'll get it this time!): gave!

Ha, no, I probably am a little lazy with my word choices… I also don’t know what fandom you’re looking for, but here’s some options:

TRC: (I would love to use Hit Reset, but I honestly haven’t written enough of the next chapter to have used “gave,” so I suppose I’ll use this other WIP, where I have two occurrences)

(Here, take this whole paragraph; it doesn’t mean much by itself):
Ronan gave an amused snort. “Don’t be fucking humble,” he said. “I already know you teach them a fuckton more than that.”

(And yet this sentence is even longer than that):
He gave the silence a moment, but then he couldn’t help but speak, compelled by Ronan’s steady eyes and the space between them, charged with that same strange thing that had always gotten Adam talking back when they were teenagers. 


(You know this has absolutely no context, but it also doesn’t really seem to have context if I give the whole paragraph… So, just one little sentence.):
He wasn’t cold, but Renee gave him a blanket, too.

Anyways, yeah, two fics to sample from works fine. (I have too many unfinished fics…)

[Guessing Game]

It's Time, For All Of Us, To Walk Into The Sunshine, Together, Forever

Author: Neversleepingalwaysdreaming

Rating: T

Status: Completed in January 2017

Word Count: 4,513

Summary: “Do you even want to marry me?” Blaine exclaims, desperation in his voice.I don’t know is on the tip of Kurt’s tongue, but he forces himself to stop. Biting his tongue, he takes a deep, steadying, breath, forcing himself to calm down.“Of course, Blaine, of course I want to marry you” he says, because if there is one thing in this world that Kurt is sure of, it’s that he wants to marry Blaine and stay with him forever…or, basically, I didn’t like the break-up of season 6 and decided to re-write all the Klaine stuff of season 6 so that they stay together.

Tropes/Genre: AU, reaction fic, angst, romance, fluff

Lynne’s review: WHY OH WHY couldn’t they have written season 6 this way?

Read at: AO3

the elites; trials - I

part: i

AU: swim team!au x bangtan

warnings: language

words: 2,233

genre: drama, angst

full fic: all parts || i

desc: a championship swimmer in high school, jungkook was confident he would smash the trials for the college swim team at his new university. he hadn’t expected the competition to be quite so fierce. 

a/n: i’ve been writing this for a long time, and never got around to posting the first part! sorry it’s been so long since i’ve updated anything (also a new part for flight ke370 should be coming soon!)

Originally posted by shishikookie


In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. The rhythm of his measured breaths in sync with his movements was lulling, especially in the early mornings. He savoured the comforting sensation of his fingertips skimming the water’s surface with each even stroke he took. It was inefficient, he knew, but he did it nonetheless - he was just training, anyway. He enjoyed the mindfulness that his sport imposed - focusing on nothing else but his breath, his technique, his speed. His ability to focus was something he was proud of, his control over his nerves in both his sport and his academia. Today, though, he found his mind wandering - it took more conscious effort to control his thoughts, as if they were being drawn elsewhere.

Of course, they WERE being drawn elsewhere, but that was still no excuse. The try outs for the university’s teams were this afternoon and the boy caught himself running through his mind all the things he needed to look out for. Planning his strategies, anticipating all of the hopefuls all fighting for the same spot on the team. Look for the ones swimming in the centre lanes. The ones who trial for all events are the ones with the best chances. The ones who find that balance between pacing themselves between races and showing their best.

His monologue was interrupted by the resounding click of the pool doors opening echoing over the water’s surface - the usually empty pool had another visitor. This early? I’m impressed. There might be more potential tonight than I was expecting. The thought barely formed itself in his mind, before he cast it away, replacing it with the same mantra he followed every morning; In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

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i still crack a little when i see someone has left a kudos on my leodle smut up on ao3, because all i could think about is: wow, someone actually saw the title and summary and decided to give it a read. someone actually did that. and then i question why it surprises me still, which in turn leads me to question my own preferences.

We’ll Carry On

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Request fic for @ellasfandoms1234. “Could you do a Gerard X Reader where he just started to relapse and he’s thinking about breaking up the band and the reader convinces him not to and it’s so fluffy 😍”

When you first saw him, standing onstage, tossing his beautiful red hair seductively, singing with the voice of an angel to an adoring crowd, you thought, He’s a fucking god. But, slowly, as you came to know him, you discovered that Gerard was only human. Trying desperately not to fall into the same addiction that had plagued him in his twenties. Questioning if he was as attractive as the fangirls said he was - and if they would still love him if he packed on a few pounds, if he looked, again, like the fat, dateless nerd he’d been in high school. 

“They only love me,” he’d told you, a melancholy look in his eyes, “because they don’t know who I am." 

"That’s not true, Gee,” you’d protested. “I know you very well, and I love you very much.”

But, you weren’t sure if he believed it. 

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lucisassbutt  asked:

Hey there, do you know any really heavy angst filled fics? Thanks in advance.

To be honest, I tend to stick to the more lighter angst level fics, so what I read may not be what you’re looking for. But one of the most angsty fics I’ve read is the Rise of Loki Laufeyson and The Fall of Tony Stark. They’re part of the Ballad of Tony and Loki series.

Also, Always Read the Fine Print is a good one for some angst.

You can also check out the angst tag + I’m sure my followers have some good recs of their own they’d love to share. :)

teethnbone  asked:

okay bro, at your convenience: do you have Scully Don't Die fic recs? I have a 1.6k doc of half-baked FF thoughts so let's skip that one, but everything else is on the table. Doing this as an ask because I want to be able to look back at your answer without scrolling through messages.

Aw shit, man. I take it you mean Immortal Scully fic? Honestly, that is one of the four fic genres I don’t read much of (William, Colonization, Ships That Aren’t MSR, and Immortal Scully). Mostly because it feels like duct-taping a chef’s knife to my floor and willingly falling onto it.

Here are the ones I can think of though that I have enjoyed that either involve Immortal Scully or contemplation of it. Since I don’t seek it out I am probably missing many things, but I bet someone like @kateyes224 would have mad recs too.

1. How a Resurrection Really Feels - idella

2. wish geometry - @foxmulders

3. But Ourselves - Marguerite

4. Achromatic - Annie Sewell-Jennings

5. Begin(e)n(d)ings - juxtapose

6. starless and shadow - @how-i-met-your-mulder

7. Torn Out Page - @keatingscully