the 'other' fic

It’s been a busy weekend but I’ve been thinking about Kingsman 2 and Hartwin and things.

Eggsy sees the metamorphosis as it happens. Harry’s back straightens, his shoulders draw back, his jaw sets. His gaze grows bright and sharp with knowledge and his mouth forms Eggsy’s name.

Eggsy’s breath is caught bin a swell of disbelief and joy. Seeing Harry come back to himself feels just like seeing Harry alive for the first time, except now there’s no glass between them, nothing to stop Eggsy from throwing his arms around Harry and pulling him close.

They’ve never actually hugged before, but Eggsy doesn’t hesitate. He needs to hold onto Harry, to feel Harry against him, his whole body, warm and alive and strong enough to survive. Eggsy tucks his head into Harry’s neck and breathes in the scent of Kingsman aftershave and then beneath that, the warm and subtle smell of Harry.

This is also how Harry’s house smelled. Eggsy is hit by a rush of memories: the first time he visited, buzzing with excitement, his breath catching every time Harry looked at him – and then also the long, desperate months after, the painful thrill of surrounding himself with Harry’s things. He had told himself that Tilde would help chase out some of the ghosts, but the bright clean smell of her was never quite enough to overwrite the lingering scent of Harry.

Eggsy closes his eyes and breathes in. The house is gone now, and everything else he and Harry had – but they have each other and it’s hard to care about anything else. Eggsy’s whole body is vibrating with how much he needs this – needs Harry close to him, in his arms, alive. Desperately he turns his head and presses an open-mouthed kiss to Harry’s neck.

He feels Harry shudder against him, hears him breathe out Eggsy’s name again, barely louder than a sigh. Harry’s hand slides up to curl around the back of Eggsy’s neck, warm and heavy, and a shiver rolls down Eggsy’s spine.

Everything that came before this, all the memories and echoes crowding Eggsy’s head – all of that was only ever meant to be the beginning. It had felt like a beginning at the time, Eggsy’s training and the thrill of being with Harry – it was like the moment you leap from a diving board but you haven’t yet begun to fall, a heartbeat-long rush of anticipation.

For so long, the beginning was all Eggsy had. But now, finally, with the two of them pressed close, Eggsy’s lips on Harry’s skin and Harry’s hand sliding up the nape of Eggsy’s neck, their chests moving with each breath, there’s nothing to stop them from falling together.

anonymous asked:

Hello! Sorry if you've been asked this already but could you recommend me any fics where they are sorted in different houses? I've been reading some of those and I've loved them so... please? Ps. Sorry for my grammar, English is not my first language and I still struggle a little :D

@awesomesauceuniverse said: Could you recommend some fics where Draco is in Ravenclaw?

Hello! I’ve never sought out this trope, so unfortunately I don’t know very many different-House fics, but here are the few that stand out in my memory! Also, I’m not going to include any Slytherin!Harry fics on this list, because I’ve already made a separate rec list for that:


Drarry in Different Houses

Chaos Theory by @tessacrowley (103K)- Chaos: when the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future. One gene varies, one neuron fires, one butterfly flaps its wings, and Draco Malfoy’s life is completely different. Draco has always found a certain comfort in chaos. Perhaps he shouldn’t. Featuring Genius!Draco.
This fic is INTENSE. I read it a really long time ago, but I STILL remember how emotional it made me! Make sure you read the trigger warnings in the notes, but if you want MAJOR FEELS, then you will absolutely love this one! Harry and Draco become friends right from the start and they’re so CUTE, and I just accidentally reread the first 10 or so chapters, that’s how good the writing is! Truly a classic :) [RAVENCLAW DRACO]

Golden Age by @lol-zeitgeistic (52.5K)- The Celtic druids once made a decision that kept magic in abundance in Britannia, but they couldn’t account for the technological advances Muggles would make centuries later. Now magic is dying on the isles, and this is not a dark lord that Harry can fight. OR: Harry Potter doesn’t save the world this time, but he does get a lot of hugs.
YO, GUYS, this fic is SO VERY GOOD. I was hooked right from the start! For some reason everyone I’ve recced this fic to has been reluctant at first about Hufflepuff!Drarry, but then everyone ends up loving it (I told you so!) because it is GREAT and SO CREATIVE and read itttttt!!! [HUFFLEPUFF HARRY AND DRACO]

Earthbound Spook by cest_what (57.5K)- Two months after Draco Malfoy was reported dead, Harry and Ron found him tangled in Strangler Ivy on the grounds of Hogwarts.
This fic is such fun to read! I adore horcrux hunting fics with all my being, and alternate dimension Draco makes this one extremely memorable! I see it being recced all the time, with very good reason :) [GRYFFINDOR DRACO]


CARYL AU: where they leave after the war to live in peace
there wouldn’t be anything left of me after that…

the days are long and quiet. filled with the rustle of the leafs and the rush of the nearby shore. the scent of damp earth and salt.

she reads. loses herself in different worlds. tends to their small garden with care and skill. bakes and cooks and eats. learns to love the taste of food again. at night, she curls herself around him, allows herself to seek warmth and comfort.

he hunts. loses himself for hours in the woods. rests his tired feet in the cold water of the ocean. builds a fire for them. mends the small house they call home. at night, he makes love to her slowly, gently. kissing away phantom pains.

some nights, one of them wakes from old demons haunting their dreams.

some days, she doesn’t say a word. hardly eats a thing.

some nights, he sleeps on the sofa, afraid even of her touch.

some days, he feels anger coiling inside of him as it once used to.

but only some days.

A Warrior’s Life

TITLE: A Warrior’s Life


AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Viking Loki coming to your village, raiding, and pillaging, before deciding there is something about you that intrigues him and deciding to take you back to Asgard with him. There, you are forced to learn a new life and language, and though you hate what has happened to you, you learn that Loki is not as bad as you think.

RATING: Mature

Thor came later that evening; however, he did not have his nephews in tow. “We will return them to you tomorrow.” He declared as he noticed the questioning looks on his family’s faces.

“Sit down Thor, we need to talk.” Frigga indicated to the free chair at the table.

Worriedly, Thor did as his mother instructed, looking at his brother, his sister-in-law and then his mother in concern. “What is afoot?”

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anonymous asked:

can you recommend any good johnny fan fic? preferably angsty asf lmao thanks

Here’s some recs, anon! They’re all Spideytorch + one BenJohnny series. I’d love to rec you some DakenJohnny because the ship is perfect for Johnny angst, but all the fic is Daken-focused. :P It’s hard finding more Johnny-focused stuff in general, especially angsty stuff, but I gave it a shot.

Two author recs first off: gleesquid and timeladyromana both do Johnny-centric stuff. Gleesquid’s you light my morning sky is set in the 60s and ruined The Sound of Music for me and I love it forever, and the first scene of you wear white and i’ll wear out the words ‘i love you’ has the good angst. TimeLadyRomana’s  hang a shining star upon the highest bough was my Yuletide gift last year and features current canon Johnny, so, you know, he’s miserable, and Letting The Days Go By is just smut so far but the premise promises angst in the future.

All That We Were by paramountie is a Woke Up Married Spideytorch fic with plenty of good pining and angst.

all of these thousand miles by hippolytas is probably my top favorite Spideytorch fic. Great character voices, fantastic grip on canon. However the Fantastic Four return to Marvel will have to be pretty incredible to compete against this.

Broken Crown by missMHO is an arranged marriage fairy tale AU with lots and lots of powers angst.

Buns in the Oven by poplarpando. Aliens made them do it has unexpected consequences. This is mpreg of a very comic book science-y variety. Peter point of view, but strong Johnny focus, considering he’s the one knocked up. Warnings for mildly dubious consent and miscarriage. This is a WIP, but if you want angst, there’s already plenty.

Tanglewood Tree by amaronith. Fuckbuddies with lots of pining. Amaronith has a few other Spideytorch fics, too.

Down to Zero by Sineala. This is a Steve Rogers/Tony Stark fic but there is Spideytorch and it is unrequited and there is Johnny angst, so I figured I’d rec it too.

Apartment Au by Spoodlemonkey. A no powers AU collection of Ben Grimm/Johnny shorts. They’re not really angsty, but I wanted to rec something that wasn’t Spideytorch, too, and these are cute with some good Johnny focus.

bring it on home to me

“Is there a point to this tangent?” Lydia asked, flipping the omelets. Stiles shook his head, his nose brushing her cheek.

“No,” he said, his chin still on her shoulder. “Just that I’ve loved you since that day, I think.”

Now she rolled her eyes, laughing in amusement. “First of all, that is so untrue,” she said. “No way you’ve been in love with me since that day. You didn’t even know me.”

“Yeah, but I knew enough,” Stiles insisted. “I knew that I’d never met anyone else like you before. I started falling in love with you that day.”

She laughed again. “Okay, that’s more fair.” She paused. “Any reason you’re being especially nostalgic and sappy today?”

He shrugged, hugging her tighter. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just what today is. It’s not going to be just us two for much longer.”

Lydia laughed at him again. “You are so dramatic,” she told him, but she turned her head, kissing him on the cheek. “And I love you.”

A Pas de Deux universe one shot for the INCREDIBLE Stydia Positivity Project written for @lydiastxles! Fer, I hope you like this :) 

Read it here on AO3! 

I tripped over my keyboard and kept going on this Steve/Loki AU.

Steve froze. He knew that name. In Earth’s myths it was as famous a name as Odin and Thor. But Thor and Odin turned out to be very real and very alien and not much like the myths bearing their names. Loki was the notorious trickster in those stories of old, and Steve didn’t know if those stories were any more accurate than the ones about Thor.

So, is there really a Loki? Tony asked Thor one night when they were all relaxed and hanging out.

Thor’s face had done something funny, flinching like he was in pain before turning smooth and affable as ever. Yes, Thor answered. And then immediately changed the subject.

The myth in question was studying him now, sending a prickle of unease along his spine.

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Snippet of My New Bughead Fic (it hasn’t been edited yet so)

The blonde makes him want, makes him crave, makes him need. To stuff his beanie in her mouth. To grasp her wrists and pin them to the wall. To mark her, to claim her like some sort of glorified werewolf. It’s dangerous, he knows that, but sometimes he wishes he could pass up knowledge for the delight of sinning. She’s nothing more than the devil, he tells himself, nothing more than a different version of the ones living in your head.

The Powers That Be

TITLE: The Powers That Be

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Forty-Four

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki discovering a hidden mutant when he realises they are at risk of being found by S.H.I.E.L.D. who experiments on mutants, he is the one to help them.

RATING: Teen and Up

“Loki?” Alexia looked around the library for the God, “Are you in here?”

There was no response to her calls, she had seen hardly anyone all day and much to her surprise, she was beginning to miss Diarmaid and his lessons. Of late, her concentration wavered quickly and she found herself not overly bothered by training. At all times she maintained her fox and had played around with other elements as she saw useful, but overall, she was not interested in training, she wished she had him there to motivate her. She was about to leave again when her eye caught a glint on one of the shelves. She walked over to the book in question and pulled it out. It was large, heavy and leather bound, the art on the outside cover was bright and colourful, but the text on it was something she was sure was not one she had ever seen before. She walked over to one of the many large wooden tables that littered the large room and placed the book on it. Her fingers tracing the deep lines in the leather that gave the grooves in which the colours were. Lifting the heavy leather cover, she looked at the art within, frowning as she made an attempt to comprehend it.

“I was not aware your realm still taught you that language,” she looked up to see Odin standing close by.

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Agents of SHIELD Coming Home: chapter 12 Archive of Our Own
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapter 12: Melinda makes a decision. Phil’s mission concludes. 

Note: Still awaiting deployment because things in Puerto Rico are much worse than people originally thought and they don’t want us to be a drain on resources right now. But we’ve heard that we could be leaving as soon as tomorrow. We’ll see. For now, I’ll continue to work on this and update if possible.Thanks for the support! 

Reigen stared at him, his expression stern in the way Serizawa had learned it was when he didn’t have to keep up his customer service pleasantries. He stepped close to him and rested his forehead against his shoulder, hiding his expression. His quiet words, however, Serizawa could hear loud and clear.

read here 

In the aftermath of it all, Catarina can’t find it in herself to be mad anymore.

At the start, after Magnus had portaled home, staggering and hurt and halfway to death with this boy leaning against him, asking that she help this Shadowhunter first… she remembers healing him – Alexander – and feeling rage. With runes stark on his skin and blood on his knuckles, he had been every inch a Nephilim. The Nephilim who had stolen Magnus’s heart.

She remembers the way she’d frowned at his unconscious face, comparing him to the strip of photographs Magnus left on his desk. Watching him lying there on a makeshift cot in the living room, suffering from the shock of blood loss and broken bones, she couldn’t imagine him making funny faces, couldn’t imagine him looking at Magnus with soft, sweet eyes. Couldn’t imagine that he’d want Magnus’s touch, that he would smile that boyish, lopsided smile with her best friend’s arms looped around him.

She remembers thinking, you don’t deserve him. This Shadowhunter, this lying Head of the New York Institute, didn’t deserve Magnus and his love. Magnus, who had started sleeping exclusively on the right side of the bed, who looked at Madzie with something wistful in his gaze every time she ran toward him, who always protected his people at the expense of his own happiness.

He’s too good for you, she had thought as she glared daggers at the boy in front of her, with his angel blood and penchant for prejudice. But she hadn’t said anything, hadn’t rolled him down the stairs, and had gone to help Magnus instead; her best friend, drained of magic and still stubbornly trying to heal himself. She’d gone to the balcony afterwards to clear her mind for a minute, to rest her hands, and now, as she turns around to check in on Magnus…

The Shadowhunter is missing from his cot. Classic. Rolling her eyes, she opens the door to the master bedroom.

They’re lying in Magnus’s bed together, Magnus’s head pillowed on Alec Lightwood’s chest, nearly asleep as he slowly heals from the wounds of battle. His body still lies stiff from the aches of demon venom coursing through his blood, skin paler than its usual golden hue, bruises littered everywhere, yet his arm is still curled possessively around the Shadowhunter’s waist in a familiar motion.

And the Shadowhunter…

He’s looking at Magnus like he’s a miracle.

His eyes never leave Magnus’s and his face is soft and warm and content, like he’s holding onto something he thought he’d lost forever. He looks young like this, the way he smiles and whispers secrets into Magnus’s ear, the way his fingers trace patterns on his bare shoulder, the way he readjusts the red silk blanket so that it’s tucked carefully under Magnus’s chin.

Magnus can’t see it, with his face buried into the Shadowhunter’s shirt, but from the doorway, Catarina can. This boy… he’s truthfully, honestly, painfully in love. The type of love Catarina hasn’t seen Magnus receive in too long, the type that’s as helpless and natural as the sky is blue. And a part of her still wants to be angry, to shake Alec Lightwood until his teeth click in his skull, to tell him, don’t you ever hurt him, but from the way he’s staring down at Magnus with his heart in his eyes, she thinks he already knows.

Catarina starts to turn around, when unexpectedly Alec Lightwood’s eyes dart up to meet hers at the sound of her loafers swishing faintly against the rug. They stare, frozen for an awkward moment, and she nearly laughs at loud at the way his cheeks go rosy pink. She opens her mouth to say something, to make fun of him maybe, or tell him to let Magnus sleep, but right then Magnus shifts, groaning low in his throat, and the Shadowhunter breaks his gaze, mumbling something into Magnus’s hair that makes her friend smile gently.

Wordlessly, Catarina magics the door closed, staring at the smooth black wood as Magnus and Alec fade from view. In the kitchen, she makes herself a cup of chamomile tea, hands wrapped around the soothing, fragrant heat as she sighs in exhaustion. The two of them… they don’t make sense to her, not at all. They shouldn’t work. But Magnus is Magnus, and he’s never done anything by halves. If his happiness comes in the form of a too-tall Shadowhunter with gentle eyes and a cautious smile, then Catarina will be the very last person in this dimension to tell him no.

“God I love you,” he gasped as he broke away for air.

Ladybug froze, her eyes widening in awe at his sudden declaration. Adrien was poised above her, his shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders, one arm holding his weight while the other hand ran lovingly through her hair. He looked at her with eyes full of pure adoration, as if she was the sun and moon and stars all wrapped together into one glorious being.

For all their months of stolen kisses and secret meetings, they had never put a name to their relationship. Never once had they put words behind the feelings that drove them together.

super quick ladrien for bane for her new nsfw series of fics, drawn to you :D this one is from chapter 1, which i died over. it’s so sweet ;0; it’s smut but it’s super jdkfsklfjskl just really romantic and i’m still dead about it srsly ;0; bless u baneeeeeee 

“Lance,” he said encouragingly, “just try and feel the connection.”

“I am!” He hadn’t been, but it was easier not to admit that. Keith didn’t seem to believe him however.

“Just-” he scooted over in the chair and patted it with his free hand. “Just come and sit with me at least. Maybe she can sense that you and I are connected.”

Lance scoffed but did as he was asked, squeezing into the space beside Keith with relative ease considering it wasn’t very large. Part of his leg draped over Keith’s lap, and he averted his eyes to try and focus on something, anything, other than the feeling of the red paladin beneath him.

“I don’t think the lions know that we’re holding hands Keith,” he replied with a sigh, knowing that this was hopeless, and that they were probably going to be stuck in a strange plant goo storm and get stranded on this awful planet forever.

Because he couldn’t form a proper bond with the black lion and help save them.

Because he didn’t have what it took to pilot her.


Keith gave their hands a squeeze, and Lance’s mind went momentarily blank.

“Then maybe she can sense another connection,” he whispered. “A deeper one.”

Lance felt his cheeks flush anew, and let the grin show on his face as he stared at Keith.

“You and your bonds,” he chuckled, and Keith beamed. As if in reply, the inside of the black lion lit up suddenly, and from behind them Shiro cheered boredly.

I commissioned @sleepy-moans to draw something for my fic Stick with Me and it’s honestly the best decision I’ve made in a while. Go give them so love for creating such a wonderful piece of art!! It’s perfect!!


Sterek AU: After the death of Claudia magic becomes a taboo in the Stilinski house hold. Everytime Stiles wants to show his dad his magic, to help his dad with his magic John lashes out. Not knowing what to do with the gift that he got from his mother, Stiles represses his magic - doing nearly unrepairable damage to himself.

Years later Derek returns to Beacon Hills to find that the Alpha that killed his sister is far from the most dangerous thing in town.

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bashfyl  asked:

*incoherent screaming* You opened prompts! Sterek: Not yet together sterek. The idea is a bath and Stiles how did you get that there?!? Thank you.

Taking Sterek Prompts | Filling Prompts Live


“Are you going to get in?” Stiles asked, peeling out of his last shirt, his words a little slurry around the edges. “In a- a- a-” He paused, trying rather unsuccessfully to shake his hand free of his sleeve. He started laughing uncontrollably and collapsed to the floor to work on his shoes. “The water, are you?”

“No,” Derek groused, pointedly not looking when Stiles flopped onto his back and began to shimmy out of his soaked pants. Black slime coated almost every square inch of the floor. “This is your bath, not mine.”

“Mine,” Stiles echoed, now just lying on the floor in a puddle of black, his pale skin coated head to foot in the gunk. “This is not my house.”

“Yes,” Derek agreed, as patiently as he could, checking the water’s temperature before turning off the tap. It had to be extra hot to affect the stuff. “This is the clinic.”

Deaton had explained that even minimal contact with the ichorous substance gave a contact high. Stiles had been practically drenched in the stuff when they had killed it. Luckily it was not deadly or even toxic- which was the problem. Someone had been keeping the creature as a pet, drawing out the fluid and selling it, and it had escaped three days ago to wreak havoc.

Very, very unfortunately, Derek had drawn the short straw for ensuring Stiles got cleaned up and came down from the high safely. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica were taking care of disposal of the body while Scott and Allison swung by Allison’s house to return weapons and report to her father. Deaton had been kind enough - or perhaps had enough self preservation - to give Derek the key to the clinic so he could get Stiles washed up away from his father’s questions.

“Come on,” Derek said gently, slipping from the edge of the tub to crouch at Stiles’ side. It was, he reflected, a very good thing that werewolves were not susceptible to the substance’s effects. “You gotta get cleaned up.” The effects wouldn’t wear off until every drop of the ichor was gone.

Stiles lifted his head, looking all the way down his lean form. “Oh, no, no that’s too far,” he told Derek, head falling back with an audible clunk he was probably going to feel in a few hours. “Wow, this is the best floor ever. Do you think I could take it home with me?”

“No,” Derek said with a sigh. Looked like this was going to have to be the hard way. He shifted, kneeling beside Stiles, and grabbed at his wrists to haul him up.

Despite that they slipped and slid a bit, Derek managed to get a very naked Stiles upright and across the three feet to the tub. For a second Stiles stood very still, holding tightly onto the edge of it like he was going to resist going in. Then he tipped forward and faceplanted directly into the basin so quickly Derek had to scramble to keep him from drowning.

“Hoooooo!!!!” Stiles shouted the second his mouth was above the surface, water sluicing away the ichor clinging to his skin. “It’s hot, Derek! This is really hot, why is it so hot? Oh my god, I’m melting!” He started grabbing at the black liquid coming off his skin.

Closing his eyes, Derek counted to three. Then five. Then ten, for good measure, and when he opened them again, Stiles had fallen very, very still and was staring wide eyed into the middle distance. It was not exactly an improvement, but at least he’d stopped thrashing, slopping water and ichor all over the floor and flinging it onto the walls and- and was that- on the ceiling?

“Stiles, how did you- you know what, nevermind,” Derek grumbled, reaching for the spray nozzle.

This setup was supposed to be for cleaning dogs, but it would work just as well for ornery, tripping humans. He began to run the spray over Stiles’ hair, watching the black give way to brown. When the tub had filled completely, Derek pulled the plug and let it drain. Diluted like this with water, it wouldn’t hurt the general populace; at worst, they’d all have a really good day soon.

Stiles’ eyes slid closed, and he relaxed into the gentle touches Derek used to turn him this way and that, to get at the last of the ichor still clinging to strange places like inside of his ears and between his fingers and- well, at least Stiles was unlikely to remember any of this very well tomorrow.

By the time he had gotten the last of it, Stiles had turned to putty in his hands, making a soft, pleasant humming noise that might have been purring on a cat. Derek swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. He still needed to get Stiles someplace to wait out the high, and get this place cleaned up so no one else would be affected.

Difficult to think of anything beyond the way Stiles pressed himself into Derek’s touches. “Feels good,” Stiles murmured, unwilling or unable to keep his eyes open. “You should touch me more.”

“Tomorrow,” Derek mumbled back, prodding Stiles to his feet. The floor was still covered in ichor, so Derek just leaned over and scooped a completely unresisting Stiles into his arms. Immediately, Stiles looped his own arms around Derek’s neck and burrowed his nose against Derek’s shoulder. “If you still want me to touch you tomorrow, I will.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed muzzily.

He wouldn’t remember. No one else had. Still…

He allowed himself a small smile, and a measure of hope. Stiles had never been one for following the rules, after all.