#micheal x alex

[parisiterileymoon]

For scientific purposes, what is everyone’s weirdest “hear me out”?

Me first:

[torrancefavgirl]

DATING DAMON TORRANCE HEADCANONS

The softest teddy bear ever to you

Owner of the "hates everyone but you" trope

He thinks he's in control but he's just stupid it's Obviously you

You have this man wrapped around your finger

Literally might as well put a leash on him

But he's so good to you and he's so sexy that he has you on your knees as well

He's insanely possessive sometimes it'll be a problem but he's getting better

You're his goddess in a temple and he's the servant

Not ashamed in the slightest to go on his knees for you

His type = you. Period.

Rich ass husband will be spoiling you 24/7

If you stare at something for too long you'll find it on your nightstand 2 days later

Dates all the time before and after kids

The honeymoon phase never goes away with you guys

If you smoke too, yall are chainsmokers together

Big on physical touch. Little kisses all the time everywhere on you

Writes you love letters and hides them around the house for you to find randomly

Will not admit that he's sick until he's bedridden

Will never allow anyone to touch him while he's sick other than you

Matter of fact nobody touches him but you

Sleeps on the side closest to the door just in case

If you're into cars, he loves to work on cars with you

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

The Tragedy of What Was (pt. 1)

Summary: The world was not kind. Not to you, your brother Erik, or many other mutants. So why did you have to be kind to Sebastian Shaw? A decades long mission, spearheaded by Erik was interrupted by the encounter with one Charles Xavier. You had always flirted with the idea of a changed world, not in Erik's image, but one of human - mutant peace. The battle of philosophy and morals is the only one more stifling than the one between the two battling groups. Who will come on top, be left behind, and survive? (yall i am not good at summaries pls just gimme a chance)!

A/N: uhm yeah. so this is my brainchild, enjoy:) also quick warning: VERY descriptive details about death and the Holocaust so please be prepared if you choose to read!

♟️masterlist♟️

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..

The footsteps were as soft as the traipsing water droplets from the fountain. An array of hues transformed into more and more mesmerizing shades in the sky above. Trees of the purest emerald coloring adorned the edges of the scene. And in the middle of the ethereal splendor stood Charles Xavier. The youthful, handsome, and charming man was wholly swallowed with transfixion.

Back turned to him and facing the serene flowing fountain, you found peace. Your hair was styled just how Charles remembered it when you first met him. Chaos somehow peacing itself into an enhancement of your beauty. His feet carried his unbelieving being right beside you. The place he swore to always remain.

Your eyes were closed but Charles always knew you never needed vision to feel his presence. Neither him for you. Never because of your mutations but rather the wonder of your hearts’ senses. Somehow, the butterflies in the pit of your stomachs always could sense out the others matching pair.

“This is cruel, Raven.”

He practically spit it out, voice still dumbfounded by your appearance. Your face has danced behind his eyes everyday of his life since your first encounter but in all that time, never has your image felt so real. Your eyes remained closed as a soft smile formed on your lips. The same one a mother would dawn as she gently corrected her child.

“Oh Charles, we both know Raven has been dead for years.”

As soon as you uttered those words, Charles felt the tingling sensation in his legs overgrow his nerves. His knees buckled and he was ready to feel the nothingness of his lower body once more except the feeling went away with the breeze. Whatever this was, Charles wished to escape as soon as possible.

“What are you?”

The smile framing your lips dropped in an instant. “You always said you saw me beyond a label. Beyond my powers.”

Your voice started out firm but was grappled with hurt as it cracked at the end. As powerful a telepath he was, Charles was well aware that his mind was being puppeteered. Yet the question of who was powerful enough to even enter the mind of Professor X stumped him.

“What is it that you wish? What information do you need so badly that vile deception is used?”

The mind was never a stable place as he well knew and that was Charles' explanation for your sudden chorus of bubbly giggles. Your smooth hands rubbed down your face as you attempted to stop your laughter. After a long winded session, you let out an amused breath that warned Charles that whatever was to be said next was not going to be pleasant.

“My schatz. You were always the mastermind of deception.”

He wanted to protest but his vocal cords failed him. Silence was his only choice as you began circling the mid-sized fountain.

“A man of your power, you could have built the world in your image by force. Yet, you made us all build it for you through your sweet words.”

Charles had a feeling of where this was going and that tingling began crawling up his veins. You continued on, nearing the opposite side of the water.

“Charles Xavier: judge, jury, but damn the world if he was seen as executioner. No, you are a mere guiding voice,”

The setting sun illuminated your dark figure behind the asserting height of the spouting water. He saw your features sparkle even in their shadowed form.

“A voice that dictated all. Who was Saint. Who was innocent. Who was worthy.”

With each word, your voice became more and more intense. A friction and malice he had nearly forgotten you were capable of. It was that last accusation that brought Charles down. Heart, head, and legs. He crumpled to the floor as numbness silenced any nerve communication. He tried to call out from pain. For you. But the strangle of his voice only righted around his neck as a weight began overtaking his lungs.

You finally rounded the circular fountain back to Charles as he laid on the floor, twisting this way and that and an arm outstretched to you. His finger framed your face from his lower point of view as they slightly curled. They danced across the very picture of perfection in Charles' eyes. But it was your own that caused the warning bells to screech to the man.

Clean,pristine eyes met his own electric blue orbs. The clarity of your sclera juxtaposed the haze of Charles' sense of reality. You crouched to meet his level and bent your neck to the side in confusion at his horror.

“Schatz, what's wrong? Aren't I pretty this way?”

You traced your fingernails lightly across his dashing face, upwards from the cheeks and into his luscious hair. He tried to jerk away but he was held in place by an invisible force, panting as a shiver of unease rippled through him.

“You know I always thought you the most beautiful.”

Your mouth dipped into a pondering frown as you mockingly assessed the man in front of you.

“Even with all my blood?”

Charles expected your eyes to transform to their original state, the ones he never got enough of. The captivating mosaic he memorized and treasured twice as hard for when you tried to hide them away in shame from him. Instead, he was met with the appearance of yours he has tried to erase so desperately but only ended up with a more obliterated consciousness.

Slow drops of blood slithered downwards from your mouth as if mocking Charles's now matching tears. Your smooth arms transformed into a canvas of cuts and bruises as they stretched unnaturally behind you. Finally, your once pristine clothing became an ocean of crimson copper blood. In every direction, a masterpiece of Charles's worst tragedy was painted through the rouge substance.

A puddle of blood formed beneath your misfigured being but not a single drop landed on Charles. Everytime a thin river of deep red snaked its way to his legs, a sprinkle of the crystal fountain water eliminated the warm liquid.

“Here I am Charles, in all my beauty, isn't that right?”

“Y/N-”

“Or am I not worthy of it anymore? A poor excuse of whatever lowly being I am hunted as?”

The brown haired man could only speak in wheezes at this point. He would use every last breath to stop your train of thought and conviction on his perspective of you.

“You were the most worthy of us all! Better than the best of us! You were the unimaginable.”

Your breath shallowed like his but Charles's was from force. Yours was from drainage. Even in your positioning, back arched, arms stretched behind you, and neck bent upwards, your eyes filtered to the shade of blue that quickly became your favorite.

“Was I so unimaginable that you refused my reality?”

There it was. As if a dam broke, all your blood began drowning Charles. The sick joke of it all was that the harsh force pounding down on his lungs freed him the second he began inhaling nothing but copper. Just to satisfy all possible suffering.

“It felt like this. Slow. Suffocating. I know you are trying to call out to me but your powers are failing you,”

You whispered in a contrastingly soothing manner. “They are failing you like they failed me. I called for you and made yourself deaf.”

And in went the blood into his ears. Charles could feel it flow its way through the complex tunnels and deafen the mumbles of your voice. In every possible part of his body, Charles was drowned in the inside and outside in your blood. The natural reaction to close one's eyes was stripped from him as his once vibrant blues were forced to be wide open to be covered in layers of the sticky substance.

Death was surely knocking on his door. That the differing voices from your own must have been what laid ahead for Charles. Odd that they, even with the disillusion of the blood, sounded oddly familiar.

You, realizing this, let out a sly smirk, even as you were thrashing in pain and letting out your last gasps of air.

“It seems like our time has ended once more, Professor.”

With one final breath, you smile upwards.

“Send him my love.”

The violent jerk of the Professor brought even further alarm to Storm and Logan who have been trying to bring him back for the past few minutes from whatever trance he entered. Storm checked his pulse and head for any fever while Logan stood to the side in confusion and buried worry for his long time mentor.

“Something going on, Charles?”

Logan's gruff voice was perfectly audible for the elder man who clenched to his wheelchair to the point his already pale knuckles were the shade of snow. However, Charles completely ignored him as his wrinkled eyes focused on the person right in front of him. Your murderer.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..

1944

The screams were never ending. Of birth, death, and what surrounded all, pain. Maybe it was because of the tight packaging of the cattle cart that made it feel like the screams were louder than they were. They had no space to travel so they just ricocheted off the tens of bodies crushing the others in your end of the cattle transportation. 

The echo off of the dirty and malnourished folks gave the screams an echoed chorus to the sound of birth. A fragile woman with pretty features was splayed across the dirty floor, legs covered with men's jackets and women's shawls. While the clothing covered her decency, nothing could be done for her dignity as she was surrounded by cattle manure. There was nowhere else in the cart that had the less than necessary space the manure covered section provided. From what you've gathered of the man holding her hand throughout, her name is Lotte and beside her was her brother, Heinrich. Lotte's husband has been missing for the past six months. 

You have been trying to tell time through the crack between the two rusty sliding doors of the cart. It has been light thrice and dark twice. Everytime the curtain of darkness is overtaken by sunlight, the small glimpse of the outside world becomes increasingly muddled. Green trees became ashy corpses. Sapphire skies transforming into a sickeningly gray. 

In your time on this unknown journey, you had rarely uttered a word. You were only six years of age yet you had known that your existence was a question of debated worth so asking any of your own would only bring misery. You never asked why all three of your cardigans had a yellow star of David patched on. All that was known to you is that it was required, as your mother fearfully related to you everytime you complained why you had to dawn it but none of the other girls you saw did. Although, none of them were in your school or neighborhood as that was yet another forced move. 

You found the forced adornment quite ugly. Especially with all the stains it dawned from your constant use of it as a napkin. Your youthful innocence summarized that if you were to be forced to wear the symbol that was to deem your value, it might as well be useful to you.

Chipped nails of yours picked at the fray threads from the patch as you shuddered away from yet another round of the birthing woman's screams. You buried your face into the neck of your older brother, who only wrapped his arms tighter around your small frame. It was his turn to carry you on his lap, a shift that was interchanged between him, your praying mother, and solemn father. 

“Push more, I see the head!”

There were a handful of other grime ridded women who were surrounding the pretty soon to be mother. None were nurses but their experience was enough: they were mothers. From your vantage point, you could see the pool of blood growing beneath the sheets of cover. It was making you nauseous but you couldn't tear your eyes away. 

“Final one!” The eldest of the women announced and you prayed for her to be right. You were unsure how much more screaming you could take. To you, it was the worst sound to be stifled in. With one final welp of excursion, a new voice replaced the now official mother. A prune like being covered in blood was somehow the cleanest in the entire filth infested cart. The rest of you were flea littered as the rats crawled over all the crowds in the overpacked area. 

You still held tightly onto your brother but turned to your now weeping mother. People cry tears of joy at a new baby, even if you've never personally seen it, but you didn't think you were seeing it then. In the past years, your mother's face was constantly strewn with tears, no matter how much you tried to cheer her up in your own childlike ways. So you knew how tears of misery looked like and they couldn't be stopped as the avalanches their way down her cheek. 

“Mama?” Your small confused voice broke her out of her trance on the small baby and his first moment with his mother. She reached out and petted your hair gently with a loving yet shaky smile. However, the moment could only last so long. 

In the moments after his sister had done the most tremendous feat of her life, Heinrich knew what had to be done. Lotte turned to him to ask him to utter the prayer to be said when the birth of a child but the prayer uttered was a very different one. Instead of the blessings of life, Heinrich uttered the words of death. Lotte's delicate eyes squinted in confusion and offense but were in an instant, horror. Heinrich ripped the wailing baby boy from his mother's comforting arms and grasped the handle of the large rusted door. He was peeling as much as he could with only one arm and fighting off the other men and women trying to stop him. 

Your mother threw her arms around the two of her children seated besides her, as if the man would do the same to you. The door's crack was opening more and more, letting in the now setting sun. It was the first time in what you can only assume days any sunlight had reached the cart's populace and looking around, it was clear to see. The ghastly paleness and bones peaking out beneath raggdy clothes. This was not the effect of capture in a cattle cart but rather years of imprisonment in open air prisons you were forced to call home. 

“Heinrich!” 

Lotte wailed as she tried to get up, but the weakness of labor tied her down to the disgusting floor. You would have thought Heinrich to commit his act ashamed. To not have the ability to look Lotte, or anyone, in the eyes anymore. Maybe even throw himself with the boy. Yet instead, he met Lottes hazed eyes with no remorse.

“What life do you believe he will live? This death is a mercy. Let him go without suffering or in the hands of those monsters! What kind of mother wishes suffering only second to Hell on her child?!”

And with that, the baby boy was gone. The healthy baby boy. No defects or injuries. Now in the wind to die.

You were wrong. Silence was the worst sound to be stifled in. 

Looking up, you met the horrified blue eyes of your brother. 

“Erik?”

His only response was to fully huddle you in his arms as if he could protect you from the truth. Protect you from your  inevitable fate.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..

Surely, this was not Earth. Rain didn’t matter; your eyes could not comprehend the desolation weaving between the desolate crowds. They were not human. Not even ghosts could compare to the ghastliness of those who might very well have been your neighbors. Sunken eyes, protruding bones, and the heavy stench of fatality. Huddled between Erik and your mama, you were shoved forward into an impending fate. Your hands clung to Erik's pants as you tried to hide from the barking officers. The three of you—and your father, standing guard as much as he could behind—were shoved and pulled in every direction. There was never a moment of peace since stepping off the cart.

As you neared the macabre gate, you were ripped from safety. A crude giant of a man yanked you from your hiding spot, away from your family. The same fate seemed to befall Erik as the four of you were being ushered in three different directions.

“ERIK!”

Your voice pierced the grating metal, now beginning to be pulled toward the boy you called for. An odd force physically pierced the gate as well as the guard hauling you away. He dropped you from his lifted arms and began crouching, as if an invisible weight was crushing him to the puddled ground. You didn’t waste any time and ran toward where Erik was being dragged. The soldiers seemed to be pulled strangely forward toward the pointed gate as well. You focused on his outstretched arm, even as your vision blurred from tears and soon darkness. As you ran to your brother, other guards tried to grab you but struggled to reach you. Anyone who got close enough seemed to trudge through invisible layers, barely grazing you. However, one lanky boy, no older than 18, managed to tackle you to the ground, easing the odd pressure on the guards.

“Y/N!”

Erik had been solely focused on reaching Mama. It wasn’t until he saw your small body on the muddy ground, unconscious and being dragged away, that he realized you had been left completely alone to fight off the brutes. Metal fragments began chipping from the gate and helmets of the men holding him back. Although, whatever destruction was to happen was avoided as Erik was knocked unconscious, unaware of the Lehnsherr fate. A grim thought to anyone but the prowling man in his tower. 

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..

Time was lost to you as you wandered through the nice halls of the building. You had woken up in a room that barely passed as one. Beds and bodies as far as you could see. All dull, enhancing the dread of it all. As soon as you regained consciousness, the intimidating beings that somehow passed as men wrenched you away from wherever you had been sent. Time must have passed, as the rain had stopped. A cruel contrast to the gloom awaiting inside the brick building. Guards led you to a menacingly simple, deep-brown door. One sharp knock and you were tossed into the abyss, which turned out to be a tidy office. Your eyes met a pair hidden behind lowered glasses. He gave you a smile that provided no comfort. To your left stood Erik. Without hesitation, you ran to the brother you feared you might never see again. You were still lost in the world around you but knew one thing: you were not letting go. Latched around his hips, you quizzically eyed the smiling man. He took in the image of you two, his grin only growing.

“Understand this, Erik and Y/N—these Nazis, I'm not like them.”

The fact that he knew your names sent a shiver of discomfort down your aching spine. You stayed silent as he began unwrapping what seemed to be, of all things, a chocolate bar.

“Genes are the key, yes! But their goals? Blue eyes? Blond hair? Pathetic.”

Your eyes tracked his movements, not out of envy but out of unease. A man in this place was bitter, not sweet.

“Mmm! Eat the chocolate. It’s good.”

Still nameless, he pushed the bar closer to both of you, especially trying to coax you. Naturally, you wished for just a bite—as any six-year-old would—but Erik’s silence was enough to stifle that desire. You still did not know what had happened to your beloved parents, which sent a strange prickling sensation through your entire body. A mismatched sense of internal chemical stability. The man watched as you shivered, even in the moderately warm room.

“I want to see my mama.”

Erik broke the silence in his rather blunt way. You knew he was scared. He had been ever since your family was forced to evacuate the home generations of your family had been born in for a squalid apartment, ever since the Nazis decided the value—or lack thereof—of your people's lives.

“Genes are the key that unlocks the door to a new age.” It shouldn't have been surprising that he was ignored. The man in the chair was important, and what really mattered was that he was a Nazi affiliate. If there were any guards or officials in the room, they would have expected you both to show gratitude for the chance to speak with such a superior being.

“A new future for mankind. Evolution. You know what I'm talking about?” 

He continued but you could barely grasp the meaning of his words. You looked to Erik for any signal of how you should react but the only emotion painted on his pale face was apprehension. Your attention was drawn back to the mustached man as he laid down a coin. The loud and proud symbol of the Nazi regime gleaned beneath the light. A light that had emerged from the laboratory you just realized to your right. Two tables enclosed by white walls adorned with various knives, blades, and other instruments you could only gasp at their purpose. 

“It’s a simple thing I ask of you. A little coin is nothing compared to a big gate,” he said, turning to you. “Or the human body?”

He analyzed you, as you were a wild card in his eyes. The nameless man couldn’t interpret what you had accomplished, but that only exhilarated him further. With a simple gesture, Erik was instructed to go first. Concentration painted his face, and desperation motivated his hand. Stillness hung in the air.

“I tried, Herr Doktor. I can't... I don't... it's impossible.”

The doctor turned to you, prepared to ask you to try, but instead, he simply contemplated you. Thoughts spewed in his questionable mind before he took a deep breath.

“The one thing I can say for the Nazis is that their methods seem to produce results.”

His hands reached for a bell and rang it so casually before returning back to his luxurious leather seat, adjusting himself too comfortably. 

“I'm sorry.”

Suddenly, the door opened, and two guards entered. That prickling feeling returned more intensely this time, but it was alleviated by the sight of your mother's beautiful face.

“Mama!”

Both you and Erik sprinted into her comforting embrace. You tried all you could to forcefully connect yourself to her. Like a parasite; if she were to disconnect from you, survival was no longer in your future. 

“My darlings! How are you?”

Before any words could be uttered, she was ripped away. You clawed at the guard stopping you to get back to your personal safe haven. Your mama always knew what was best so her soft whispers to listen were the only reason you settled down. She would softly scold you in that way of hers that you did not listen to her once you got out of here anyways. You did not wish for mama's displeasure.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to count to three, and you’re going to move the coin.”

The doctor made sure to emphasize the task to the both of you, not just Erik. You saw your brother readying himself for the argument of his inability when the light caught yet another imposition of metal. A caliber gun.

“You don’t move the coin, I pull the trigger. Understand?”

Prickling began feeling like it was burning inside of you. Your mouth dried as panic began setting in. You looked over your shoulder and could see that mama would not be of help this time: terror painted her graying skin as corpsely white.

“One.”

The countdown began, and you had no choice but to mimic Erik’s outstretched hands. How were you supposed to move it? You needed Mama's help.

“Mama!”

You were bawling as trepidation clawed its way through your throat. Even staring down the barrel of death, mama kept her voice steady for the light of her lives. 

“You can do it.” Soft loving words of encouragement.

“Two.”

Time was moving too fast. Prickling to burn electricity. Yoru nerves were being set alight as you began screaming in fright. The coin wasn't moving. Why wasn't it moving? You look at Erik and he was nearly at the same level of breaking down as you but he needed to stay focused for the three of you. 

“MAMA!”

Your arms were sore, twitching with the stinging sensation flowing up and down. All you wanted was to hug your mother and let her sing you to sleep, like she always did.

“Everything is alright, darling. All is well.”

 No worry, just compassion. Just a mothers unbreaking love. 

“Three.”

It moved.

The bullet moved.

It hit its target.

The stinging stopped.

Tears that slipped off your lashes halted their freefall. Stinging was no longer your problem as an unbearable pressure coursed through your veins. In and around, pain hurled its way through every crevice of your tiny, malnourished body. Your eyes focused on the coin as even the vomit you were going to hurl paused its journey upwards. Something was happening to you so distracting that you could not realize the destruction Erik was raging around you. The guards' metal helmets began piercing their skulls, drawing out their brains. The bell was caved in. All the medical instruments in the laboratory next door began trembling. Though, you did not need ears nor eyes for that. You could feel it. The pull of gravity towards Erik. Gravity that made its way to your eyes. 

“Mama,” you whispered.

Sterling silver gleamed, the vision of the coin was coated in blood. Each of the miniscule blood vessels in your eyes began popping. 

Pop.

Pop.

Pop

It wasn’t prickling. It wasn’t burning. It wasn’t electricity. It was stabbing. Each cell in your eyes was being stabbed until only numbness remained. When you opened your eyes again after the pain, you could feel the blood unsticking from itself. The substance coated your iris. Your world was blinded by red.

“Outstanding!”

The sick man that was  the doctor, was not horrified but pleased. Proud.

“So we unlock your gift with anger, Erik.”

You could not see him well, but you felt his steps gaining on you.

“And you, darling, grief.”

With his hands on you and Erik’s shoulders, he laughed as he led you all toward the laboratory that would become your personal purgatory.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..

a/n: please let me know what you thought!! i love hearing people's thoughts (it means so much!) also comments often inspire me for future chapters (in like huge ways, so if you want to see something in the story let me know!)

[ooggie-boogie-man]

I have been so hyperfixated on x-men (the james mcavoy and Michael fassbender ones) and I’m so rahhhhh, I love the other x-men and everyone who comes in in the other movies but first class has my heart

[mrshargreeves]

if you post a good pic on here best believe i WILL be reposting it to pinterest

[gege-wondering-around]

so, i'm posting a chapter of the fic per weekend and i just posted a oneshot

given my horrible schedule of getting home late and having tons of work from school, the next oneshot (or less-than-5-chapter work) i'll work on while managing school and the multi-chapter work will start from today/tomorrow and no one will ever when it'll be due for posting

anyway

i have a few options and i need to know which one you'd like the most (cause i cannot decide for the life of me)

option 1 (oneshot or max -5 chapters) : Prison Break fanfic, Power Bottom Micheal x Top Alex, set in season 3 in Sona (summary in very shot senteces: following the canon events, alex saves micheal from the fight and kills the guy, then he gets protective of him and as he feel the withdrawl from the drugs, micheal notices both his protective attutide (borderline obsessive) and frantic manners due to the absense of drugs) - Tags: explicit, violence, drugs use, possible fun time + ref

option 2 (from 2 to 4 chapters max): Teen wolf, Power Bottom Stiles x Top Derek, alternative universe werewolf are known (summary: derek is a sort of mafia boss and stiles his 'doll'; in reality, stiles is the mastermind behind everything derek plans and besides getting more money in derek's pockets, he also wants to avenge his father's dead, but to do so he has to kill derek's 'beloved' ex - jennifer - while doing so under his nose and maybe even with his help and without losing him in the process) - Tags: explicit, violence, death, gore etc, possible sexual tension + fun time

option 3 (oneshot up to 2 chapters max) : Teen wolf, Bottom Stiles x Top Derek, alternative universe fox!Stiles (summary: after the ghost riders, stiles is forgetten by everyone when derek finds a fox in the forest, which he takes care of and as times goes on, something interesting starts to happen as stiles can see everyone not remebering him in his new fox-shaped appearence) - Tags: Teens/Mature, fox!Stiles, ghost riders, love confessions

option 4 (from 3 to 5 chapters max) : Teen wolf, Top Stiles x Power Bottom Derek, canon divergence (summary: stiles got bit and for a multitude of reasons he cannot explains, he becomes an alpha and is helped by derek (also alpha) to managed it. little does he know what their change in hierarchy actually means since two alpha might want to bite each other's throats off) - Tags: explicit, werewolf!Stiles, alphaxalpha, stiles has to learn how to be a werewolf, rough fun time probably

SO!

thank you for helping me out a bit with his little poll and please reblog to expand the votes around, it would help a lot!

Once more, thank you and stay tuned for what will happen next!

[shimomcdragon]

oc doodles

[lovelytsunoda]

spill the wine // lance stroll

summary: honeymooning with the hutchence-strolls. capri will always hold a special place in y/n's heart.

pairing: lance stroll x hutchence!reader

part two of the welcome to wherever you are verse

author's note: i'm so glad that you guys loved the first part of the welcome to wherever you are verse! i was so excited to make this into a series, combining two of my current hyperfixations. i hope that the first part was enough to make some of you curious about the life and times of my favourite aussie rock band. for people who are looking to learn more, i recommend watching the channel seven drama 'never tear us apart', starring luke arnold as micheal hutchence. it's two episodes, each of them an hour and a half that takes a look into the rise and fall of inxs. arnold's protrayal of micheal was beautifully done (and i love alex williams as kirk).

y/n.hutchence just posted to her private story!

y/n.hutchence just posted (private)

island of capri, italy.

tagged: lancestroll

liked by lancestroll, officialinxs, yourbestie and 130 others.

y/n.hutchence as my father once said, 'spill the wine, kiss that girl."

see all comments

jonfarriss first of all those aren't the real words, and your father didn't actually write spill the wine

-> y/n.hutchence jon why do you have to be right all the time huh?

-> jonfarriss you also know that song is about being on five different kinds of illegal drugs?

-> andrewfarriss he's being annoying because he cares. make smart choices, kiddo!

-> y/n.hutchence andrew have you ever known me not to make the smart choice? i'm living the sober girlie lifestyle here

yourbestie looking good sunshine!!!remember to send me pics, I need to pretend I don’t work a nine to five!

lancestroll wow I can’t decide what’s more beautiful: the scenery or my wife (jokes on you guys, it’s my wife)

-> y/n.hutchence 🥺🥺

kirkpengilly nice to see alcatraz hasn’t changed

-> y/n.hutchence of course you hated it...you hate the beach, the sand, the water, the sun

-> kirkpengilly i do not

-> laynebeachley sweetie she is right.

lancestroll just added to his story

lancestroll just posted!

island of capri, italy

tagged: y/n.hutchence

liked by y.n/hutchence, kirkpengilly, astonmartinf1 and 4,567 others

lancestroll honeymooning with the hutchence-strolls

see all comments

astonmartinf1 are lemons supposed to be that big?

-> y/n.hutchence arent they awesome?

estebanocon why do you have to add 'with the hutchence-strolls' to everything?? 'easter with the hutchence-strolls' 'cook chicken gyros with the hutchence strolls' its EXHAUSTING. watch you guys make a sex tape and call it 'making babies with the hutchence-strolls'

-> kirkpengilly they'd better not! y/n i will resurrect your father and have him talk some sense into you

-> y/n.hutchence kirky calm down!! there is NO sex tape!

user y/n is so stunning! europe looks good on her

yourbestie i held my tongue at the wedding but she has been so fucking happy since you guys got married and if you hurt her i will give you HELL to PAY

-> lancestroll don't worry, she's in good hands. she's my reason to get up every morning, my reason to smile. i have never felt more alive than i do when she is next to me

garrygarybeers huh i actually think capri has gotten nicer since 1993

mickschumacher why do your legs look so long in the first picture

-> lancestroll thanks mick, now that you've pointed it out i can never unsee it smh

y/n.hutchence just posted (private)

liked by yourbestie, yourmom, lancestroll and 278 others

y/n.hutchence take my breath away

see all comments

lancestroll it was an honor to experience the grotto with you, my wife

-> y/n.hutchence the view was pretty, but you were prettier, my husband

yourbestie consider my mind BLOWN. things like these just exist in nature???

timfarriss now why didn't we go here when we were recording the album again? this place would have inspired the crap out of us. your dad would have loved it.

fernandoalonso ah yes, the grotto. fond memories of skinny dipping there

-> lancestroll ew why did you think i needed to know that

-> y/n.hutchence i second that

(next part)

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @clemswrld @httpiastri @cartierre @lorarri @thatsdemko @sidcrosbyspuck

[astralflower-writes]

just visiting (part two)

♡ pairing: alex karev x female! reader

♡ genre: angst to fluff

♡ warnings: none

♡ part one, part three, part four, special scenes

♡ check out my grey's anatomy masterlist here

a/n: yey for part two!!

after that unusual talk with lucas, you started to pack all the things the both of you have. good thing that meredith had an intern get your stuff from the hotel.

you were now just waiting for the papers for discharge and you're ready to go. meredith offered the both of you to stay at her house for a day or two, just so lucas won't be too tired when the both of you go back to boston.

"is uncle alex coming back?" he asked fumbling with one of his toy cars. "he promised to play with you before we go right?" hoping that you convinced him enough not to be mopey.

after a half an hour, the papers are now done. the nurse said you can stay until meredith gets out, so the both of you were still stuck inside the room.

"i heard there's a playroom around here. you want to check it out?" he agreed, but as the both of you were heading out of the room an intern approached you.

"dr. y/l/n! dr. grey asked me to get you." he was out of breath from all the running.

"why?"

"we have a patient who needs an emergency bypass, but our on-call doctor is 40 minutes away and the patient can't wait." he explained still trying to catch his breath.

"can you stay with him? or are you also needed there?"

"n-no. i'll stay here with him. it's okay." you told lucas to be nice and wait for you there.

after you went down to where meredith was, alex arrived just as like he promised to your child. "where's his mom?"

"oh! dr. grey told me to get her, they're probably in the OR now." the intern explained. "go. i'll stay with him." alex said ushering the intern

to say that lucas wasn't to excited when he saw alex was a total lie. he quietly set up his toy cars in a line which alex took as a signal for them to play.

"uncle alex?"

"mama said you are special..."

"mama always tells me i'm special to her. does that mean my mama loves you too?" he asked alex looking at him expectantly.

alex didn't know what to say. or how he can process what micheal was talking about.

"i don't know about that, champ. your mama can only answer that."

alex ended up listening to his stories. it's mostly about his bed time and how you fixed his toy shark he has back home.

about an hour and a half more, you finally got out of surgery.

"i missed working with you." meredith happily said whilst slinging her arm on your shoulders.

"ew mer. you don't get sappy about these things."

"but i also missed working with you too." you replied.

you and meredith walked back to lucas’ room, since the two of were staying at her house for a day before you fly back.

"i'm going to miss playing with you uncle alex..."

"well, uncle alex lives at my house too lucas, so you've got more time playing with him."

hearing what meredith said you almost threw the bag you're holding at her. "i might have forgotten that tiny information." she whispered as she helped you with your bags.

you finally got your kid to sleep after letting him tell you what he did with alex all day. going out of the room and heading downstairs, you saw alex lounging on the couch. "hey, sorry we took your room for a night."

"it's fine."

"we're cool right?" he asked

"yeah. we're cool."

"cool."

[blue1amory]

FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

Request anytime and I will write it as soon as possible.

11 stories coming soon

1 story in process

6 stories completed

Navigation

Alex Albon

It had to be me || coming soon

↳ the Thailands mafia king had to kidnap you after you see something you shouldn’t have.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

Dangerous territory || coming soon (+ Charles Leclerc)

↳ being the wife of the mafia of Monaco you never expected to fall in love either the mafia of Spain.

Charles Leclerc

Dangerous territory || coming soon (+ Carlos Sainz Jr. )

↳ being the wife of the mafia of Monaco you never expected to fall in love either the mafia of Spain.

A farewell amidst tears and angels

↳ This poetic piece, captures the poignant moment when a loved one faces the inevitability of parting, expressing a heartfelt wish for the survivor to find solace and happiness in the wake of their departure.

Daniel Ricciardo

On your deck || coming soon

↳ hiding on his ship maybe your greatest mistake

Esteban Ocon

↳ nothing yet

Fernando Alonso

↳ nothing yet

George Russell

↳ nothing yet

Kevin Magnussen

↳ nothing yet

Kimi Räikkönen

I want to be with you both || coming soon (+ Sebastian Vettel)

↳ being the daughter of Micheal Schumacher is hard but falling in love with the persons that had raced against him is even harder.

Think I need someone older

↳ you fell in love with Kimi and you ain’t afraid to let the entire world know with your new song

Lance Stroll

↳ nothing yet

Lando Norris

Is this really you || coming soon

↳ in which he only dated you because his friends made a bet with him

Not what I thought would happen || coming soon

↳ He, with love entire, cherished her—the brilliance in her eyes when joy doth alight, and the coy retreat behind his form when strangers approach, 'til comfort grants her ease. Ne'er did he envision a world set 'gainst their union.

Lewis Hamilton

One kiss is all it takes || coming soon

↳ you are the daughter of Toto Wolff. But because you could see your crush everyday. You decided to play with him

Logan Sargeant

↳ nothing yet

Max Verstappen

One picture to much || coming soon (+ Oscar Piastri) (part 1)

↳ paparazzi outed your poly relationship out to the world. You three deal with it your own way

Drive (part 2) || coming soon (+ Oscar Piastri)

↳ after all the drama you three continue your life without hiding your relationship

Mick Schumacher

A love unfettered

↳ poetry with the Mick Schumacher as main character

Nico Hulkenberg

↳ nothing yet

Oscar Piastri

you are the soul that fits into mine

↳ The fans call you the “it” couple, and you have 3 moment where you fell even more in love.

One picture to much || coming soon (+ Max Verstappen) (part 1)

↳ paparazzi outed your poly relationship out to the world. You three deal with it your own way

Drive (part 2) || coming soon (+ Max Verstappen)

↳ after all the drama you three continue your life without hiding your relationship

Pierre Gasly

Sweet nights || coming soon

↳ you never had a relax day, so Pierre had an idea

Sebastian Vettel

Hate that I love you! || coming soon

↳ You had to fall in love with your father’s rival

I want to be with you both || coming soon (+ Kimi Räikkönen)

↳ being the daughter of Micheal Schumacher is hard but falling in love with the persons that had raced against him is even harder.

Sergio Perez

↳ nothing yet

Valtteri Bottas

↳ nothing yet

Yuki Tsunoda

Why?

↳ nothing seemed to hurt her more than the pain she feels, because she loves him still.

Zhou Guanyu

A day of joy in attraction park

↳ you and your boyfriend go to the attraction park

———

F1 x reader

↳ nothing yet

Driver x Driver

Nothing stops me from loving you || (Kevin Magnussen x Nico Hulkenberg)

↳ how can one hide his relationship while dating his teammate, simple it called fake dating

～*～♡～*～♥～*～♡～*～♥～*～♡～*～♥～*～♡～*～

[st4rzzl0verr]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊ hey guys ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

☆ idk what im doing ☆

☆ come along for the ride if you so please ☆

fandoms:

(and the characters i mostly write for)

(you can request others though i'm not picky)

- creepypasta/marble hornets

characters: jeff, ticci toby, eyeless jack, masky, hoodie, homicidal liu, sully, alex, tim, brian, jay

ships: idc

- FNaF

characters: micheal afton, william afton, henry emily, phone guy

- death note

characters: mello, matt, near, L, light, misa, matsuda, mikami

- angels of death

characters: zack, daniel, eddie, rachel, catherine

- marauders

characters: severus, sirius, james, remus, lily, regulus, peter

what i do:

- scenarios/imagines

- headcanons for character x character/character x reader

- oneshots and (possibly) full fics

other:

- my requests are almost always open

- i'd love to be mutuals!

- i also draw so i may post some art on here

you can also find me on bluesky: @starzzloverr.bsky.social

[torrancefavgirl]

DATING DAMON TORRANCE HEADCANONS PT.2

This man is not ashamed in the slightest to go on his knees for you

Will buy a new outfit + new lingerie for every date/event

So so clingy, he's literally super glued to you

Personal space doesn't exist to him

Whether it's your personal space or his it doesn't matter

If you ever ever think about taking out your wallet when you're shopping, he'll give you the nastiest look ever like you killed his dog or something

Weekly flowers with sweet ass notes

If you're a reader, you bet your ass he'll buy you every book you'll ever want

He'll also build you a library in the house

His wallpaper/lockscreen is absolutely you

Wants to do everything with you, that includes eating, sleeping, working out etc...

No matter what you're going through, this man is so understanding it's crazy

You're this man's entire focus 24/7, no one matters more than you

Heavy on eye contact, will know what's hiding in your soul cause of his intense ass eye contact

Will throw a bitch fit if you ever say you're ugly or fat etc...

Negative self talk is a big no fir him he will never allow anyone to disrespect his woman like that

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

The Tragedy of What Was (pt. 2)

masterlink

A/N: yeah no yall im alive yet have no life (school and life are coming for me). im so sorry it's literally been MONTHS but uhm here is whatever this is. Transaltions are at the end for the german words (pls dont kill me i used google translate) pls pls let me know your thoughts:)

warnings: unintended self harm, allusions to depression, bad grammar and spelling.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

Wistful wind caressed your strands as it fleeted through your hair. The Geneva winds were kind on the sunny day as you sat on the cherry brown bench. Pen and leather-bound journal in hand, the words on your page turned blurry when your focus shifted.

The new metropolitan park was not too busy during the midday, which was likely the cause of your attention shift. A few feet in front of your feet, a deep charcoal grey pigeon rested awkwardly due to its pain in its left wing. The angle of the wing was unnatural, but you knew not from vision but feel. The alignment of the bones was all wrong, and it pierced through the status quo of the bird's natural gravity. Quiet, weeping chirps were all the poor creature could manage.

Your grip on your journal tightened as you focused on the world and air around you. A breath in, and it felt like surfing on smooth liquid; you felt all the slight crevices and edges of the snapped bones in the pigeon’s wing. A breath out, paired with a sharp call of pain, and the wing was returned to its natural state. You watched as its yellow beady eyes scanned in amazement while it flapped its wings over and over again, testing out the sudden fix.

Within a few moments, the small creature trusted your care enough to take flight, a successful venture that brought a satisfied smile to your lips. Even if small, it brought you a special kind of warmth to know you helped just one living creature live life a little easier. You didn't interact much with people, so your "patients" were often the concerning amount of injured animals who occupied the various cities across the globe you were dragged along to.

It was an odd life you walked in. Your days were spent in peaceful parks, calm cafes, and buzzing bookshops. So surrounded by life, yet you felt you lacked one of your own. Your train of thoughts was starting to buzz in a headache, but you were never good at regulating yourself as the spiral began. The years of a singular chase — Sebastian Shaw — were coming to an end as each lead got you and Erik oh so close. A thought that should have made you happy but only had your body feel unbearable with the weight of your anxiety about the future. You had no proper education as your childhood was spent moving from place to place. Those days after the camps.

The breath you were seemingly holding let itself out in a painful escape. You needed to clear your mind of such consuming thoughts or at least do it in a fashion that did not play into your body's instinct to cause self-agony. The more you tried to stop, the more the pain in your skull intensified. Flashes of knives, sounds of buzzing, and hands — crack! One tiny little burst in the rough surface of your skull. A pattern that would have likely continued if not for the rough voice breaking you out of the tunnel of misery you were sure to experience.

"And how many birds have to thank you today?"

Erik's impressive height had you turning your head upwards, ignoring the pain raging through your head. He wasn't ignorant to your tendencies, but rather the intensity of the involuntary reactions. So you tried your best to hide it behind a smile and harshly crinkled eyes hidden behind a chic pair of white sunglasses.

"I'm not one to keep count, but if you must know... four. I'm starting to get concerned about how many I've had to help out."

You get off the bench and walk beside your older brother as he lightly scoffs at your response. You quickly pack away your very light leather-bound notebook, the mass you manipulated a long time ago to make it easier to carry around.

"The reach of humanity's cruelty is not surprising."

Even behind the dark-lensed glasses and Erik looking forward towards the busy street, you made a show of rolling your eyes.

"All this talk, yet I don't see you protesting for birds' rights."

It was then his turn to roll his eyes as his rigid posture made its way across the newly paved crosswalk. He never said a word of where he was taking you two, but that wasn't a new aspect of your very complicated brother. You could only assume it was back to the hotel you rented out only yesterday so you could check out and travel to yet another place on your wild goose chase. The globe-trotting would have been endearing if it wasn't fueled and caged within the confines of brutal revenge. A revenge you have rarely taken part in as Erik deliberately left you behind on his deliberation missions.

You weren't bloodthirsty like Erik, not that you blamed him. He took the hits twice as hard, once for himself and once for you. Though he could not stop all the attacks; reality still drew its blood. Suddenly, you realized that Erik had yet to elaborate on his meeting with the Nazi associate at the bank. You stared at him expectantly. He couldn't feel glances and other movements as tangibly as you, but you knew this wasn't ignorance.

"So..."

The tall man took a short look to his left toward you to silence any pestering questions when he was taken aback.

"Are those new glasses?"

You ignored him swiftly, fighting the twitching need to adjust them. "I was right, wasn't I?"

"That's the third pair in a month, Y/N."

"Argentina. I've been saying this for how long?"

"Y/N." His tone was grave and pertinent, but you couldn't succumb. You didn't want to acknowledge the truth, so you kept up your mask of smugness.

"I think this confirms that I indeed do have a second mutation that lets me see the future."

All cheery brags were halted, as was the entirety of your body. You kept your eyes forward as your weak defense, in the form of the cream-colored cat-eye glasses, was swept away and pulled effortlessly into Erik's calloused fingers.

Trying and failing, you hissed in pain as the afternoon light burned through each river of blood splattering your eyes.

You hissed as the sunlight stung your eyes. In an instant, the intense light dimmed as your eyelids shut in an effort to protect your sensitive irises. You walked so perfectly and casually that no one would even realize you had no vision. The vibrant feeling of every object and organism called out, guiding you along the way. One good thing about shutting out the visual world was avoiding Erik's disapproving glare.

"Why are you wearing these?"

Eyes still shut, the invisible strings pulling on every fighting molecule tugged the now slightly broken accessory. It was incorrectly angled, a problem likely caused by Erik's careless and harsh grip. You really liked that pair. Though that wasn't much of the reason why frustration began swirling in your heavy sighs.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the little fact that my eyes are blood-busted? Who would have thought having nerves that self-explode would cause some sensitivity!" you grumbled. "Stop thinking I'm ashamed of my mutation, Erik. My injury makes me sensitive, and while the sun burns the normal retina, it boils me alive. It's a shield from the sun, not my identity. Like I've been explaining for the past decade."

You muttered the last part, feeling a slight insecurity. Over the years, your vision had cleared up, but you still had the scars. Swirling snakes of crimson still slithered in your glassy orbs, even all these years later. Your body and mind grew, yet those eyes remained the same. A symbol of a scared little girl. One who couldn't hurt a fly but could shatter each one of her bones in an instant.

Erik huffed as if he didn't fully believe you, which he likely didn't. He doubted the only thing bothering you about your eyes was the pain and not what caused it. "Something is still bothering you. Your eyes have been more sensitive than usual, isn't that so? You keep breaking glasses."

You opened your mouth to argue when he hit you with an argument you couldn't deny.

"The air around you is suffocating at night when I come back or wake up early. Like when we first left the camps."

You felt your heavy breaths settle uncomfortably in your paused lungs. Swiftly, the fashionable glasses were back on your pretty face. They were only a centimeter crooked. A lone tear protruded from your lacrimal and slid solemnly down your cheek. Erik felt the atmosphere becoming colder, even though there had been no shift in the general temperature. He knew you wanted the conversation to end, but you couldn't keep ignoring whatever was eating you alive because, one of these days, it would physically crush you. Your emotions had been playing roulette with your psyche and connected body for far too long to keep getting empty bullets.

The looming hotel leered from above you as you walked through the shiny revolving door effortlessly. Your strides were far shorter than Erik's long legs, but you were stubborn. A trait that he dreaded being on the other side of. Finally, your legs were forced to pause their march as you awaited the luxury elevators.

"What is it that you cannot talk to me about?"

Dark-lensed glasses still on inside the artificially lit hotel, you kept your head forward. The air still acted like guards from Erik's inquisition.

"So, Argentina?"

The tall man huffed, knowing if he pushed any further, you would push yourself into a new set of injuries. Numerous past experiences taught him the extent of your uncontrollability.

"We are leaving tonight. Pack your bags."

Ding!

"Never have enough time to unpack anyways."

And with that, you slipped through the doors of the gold-encrusted elevator.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

The Argentinian sun rays were blissful upon your skin—a welcoming feeling after the odd prickles of discomfort dancing upon your goosebumps. Though the break was short-lived. Following the same pattern you had since the '40s, as soon as your feet touched foreign ground, Erik went off on his own. As you walked across the dirt and stone streets of the small rural town, surrounded by beautifully secluded mountains and lush greenery, you felt just as grown as you did when you were 10. The feeling of uselessness was one you had never gotten used to—just one item on the exhausting list. Self-pity had never done you any good, so the tiny, warmly inviting shop seemed like a good distraction.

Your deep maroon leather notebook had filled its last pages, much to your irritation, on the plane ride over. Writing was always your one sure cure for clarity, and you wrote as much as you could in the metal contraption flying unnaturally through the air. You felt everything too vividly, and it suffocated you. You often wondered whether or not Erik enjoyed being surrounded by so much power, though you never managed enough courage to ask.

The colorful bells rang above your head as you smiled at the dark-haired, pretty woman behind the counter. Walking straight into the nearest aisle to avoid conversation, it found you regardless. As you were taking off your glasses to observe your surroundings, you found yourself right in front of what you were searching for—an array of bound journals shining beneath the sunlight. Squinting to adjust to the light change, you realized that your sudden stop wasn't due to a wall but rather a middle-aged man with fair brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a thick mustache.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden collision. The sight of your reaction caused the man’s own eyes to mirror your expression. It was hard not to feel ashamed and timid as he took his time gawking.

Turning away, you focused on a rich blue version of the journal you already had. The urge to hide from his stare behind your glasses tugged at your heart while your fingers shakily grasped the journal. The look in his eyes reminded you of men so sinister they transcended the bounds of the moniker.

“Do not be ashamed, leibling.”

The roughness in his aged voice was oddly laced with a smooth layer of reassurance. The warm blood flowing in your veins halted at the term of endearment. He caught onto your surprise and gave a sigh of acknowledgment.

“I can always tell a beauty from the motherland. Far too many have been running away here. Though that would make me a hypocrite, no?”

You looked at the unnerving man. Keeping silent would only do you more harm than good.

“I was not sure I was so noticeable.”

You didn’t want to be. You never were. All you wished was to be in those lush fields you saw on your way here. Away. Far away from the watchful eyes of those gray memories.

“I am not here to stay. Business trip with my brother.”

The sound of your stutters in your mother tongue made you cringe. It had been so long since you’d had a lasting conversation with someone in German. The only times you ever practiced it consistently were in your writings and mutterings to yourself. Erik stopped using it with you a few years after you turned your back on Auschwitz. Only in anger did the tongue of your lineage emerge.

The man took in your answers, stepping closer into your personal space.

“Ah, I am impressed with a man serving his people. The ones of true worth, not those cowards letting our land be split apart by those Americans and communists.”

You could feel the spit and hatred mix together as he spoke. The tubes stationed within your throat felt constricting. The work and people the man was referring to sickened you. It disgusted you that you could so easily be mixed up with your torturers. Self-hatred settled itself on the six inked numbers on your left forearm.

“Your father, where was he stationed?”

The dark numbers and darker memories felt as if they would burn their way through your thin sleeves and lies. The gulp in your throat reverberated through your weak, trembling body.

“Auschwitz.”

Your tone was as grave as the site. As grave as the one your father deserved instead of the trick of a shower. Muscles around your eyes yearned to twitch. Your forearm felt as if it were being carved all over again, this time with shame instead of ink.

An amused laugh scratched its way past his lips. He cackled.

“A man of honor. Tell him and your brother to visit the bar just outside of town. He shall be met with the last men of purpose.”

The contents of the aisle spun around your vision as the man clasped your shoulder and walked past. There would be no need to tell Erik of the small bar. You knew he was already there and would be the last man to leave alive. So much for those great “men of honor.”

Maybe if you had even tried to shift your focus onto anything else, you wouldn’t have had a mountain of emotion embodying itself on your shoulders. But you had given up on that battle a long time ago. The last time you tried, you nearly split your brain physically in half.

In the meantime, you tried to walk out of the shop quietly, but you heard the splintering of the wooden door as your panic did what it does best—ruining its surroundings. You had no choice but to run to your small hotel room, as if any slower steps would leave you sinking into the earth. A new place on the wide planet, the same stares and distress.

Making it to your room, you should have known better than to collapse on your bed, as it did just that—collapse beneath the weight of your turmoil. You could feel the pricks of wood and springs, but you could focus on healing later. Right now, all your mind could replay were insistent flashbacks. That man from the store shape-shifted in your memory to endless faces of torturers. The countless men and women who looked at your small body, not as a child, but as a simple experiment.

Number 214783.

Screams ripped past your resistant cords as scratch after scratch cemented themselves temporarily into the permanent mark of your worth. Of your place.

It was several hours later, in the darkness of night, when your gravitational sense felt a resistance. A resistance that naturally came after one of your breakdowns. And as always, it was Erik who was trying to push against your invisible walls.

You made no move to open the door he was so insistent on bending to his will through mere strength. The room was pitch black, and you were covered in debris when Erik finally managed to get through the stiff gravity. He didn’t need to turn on the lights to know what he would see. Yet, the artificial lighting burned your retinas anyway.

“Whatever this is, it isn’t healthy. Why don’t you let me help you, Liebling?”

The nickname made you flinch—a movement visible as the debris surrounding you did a little shake in apprehension. You manipulated your gravity to ease yourself onto your feet and look around at yet another mess you caused. You could feel a bit of stabbing in your shoulders from wooden splinters, but those were quickly sorted out as you used your mutation to clean the chaos out of your body and off the floor. With too much ease from too much practice, you were able to get the bed back into a condition good enough for use. You really wished you’d gotten the journal before you had your breakdown.

“Y/N—”

“Is this what my life is?”

Erik Lensherr is not a man of many words, but that does not mean he gets speechless. He seldom does, but this was one of the rare moments. You stared out the window at the dim lighting dancing in the town center.

“Just following you around, doing all the real work while I sit here and destroy everything I touch?”

“That can be controlled. You losing your life cannot. We’ve talked about this before, and the answer is still no.” Erik’s firm voice only seemed to infuriate you further. Is this what the edge felt like?

“What life?! I am sick of being sick! I am getting hurt doing nothing; at least let me do so while doing something worthwhile.”

“You are doing something worthwhile by making sure Mama’s daughter lives! I am not disappointing her by letting you do something so reckless.”

This was meant to make you back down. Echoes of the same message from all the years flowed through your ears, but all you could hear was the ringing of anger and a migraine.

“You speak of making her proud? How about I avenge her?! She was my mother too!”

“I can do it enough for the both of us!”

You could feel the metal shake before you saw it happen around you. The keys, the lights, that accursed coin. The look of horror on your face snapped Erik out of his fit of anger, bringing him back to his senses—a trait of his you have always been envious of.

There was no more point in arguing. There didn’t feel like much point to anything lately. You laid down gently on the bed this time, not even bothering with the blanket, simply turning your back to the one person who claimed to love you.

“Liebling. Please, I am only worried about you.”

You left his confession to mingle with your silence as you closed your eyes. It would only be a matter of time before Shaw would have to face the Lensherr wrath. Not just Erik’s, but as you swore to yourself, yours too.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

Turns out that moment came far sooner than expected. After yet another trip, you expected it to be one that blended into all the others. That was until you caught onto the tension surrounding your brother. You kept your eyes down on the small book you managed to snatch from the lobby downstairs. In the corner of your eye, you saw him in a fully black outfit, seemingly ready for a swim. He grabbed an overcoat, and before he left the room without saying a word about his whereabouts, he turned to you.

“Tonight, we make our parents proud.” He closed the door in your face.

You had only moments for action. He was right. You both would make your parents proud.

One look at your outfit and it was clear you did not plan for the assassination of a former Nazi official. With a sleek pair of brown slacks and a black turtleneck, you were at least grateful it was dark and warm enough for the cold night air.

Erik’s tall frame was easy enough to follow, though his constant scouring behind him and around made it a constant game of hide and (hopefully) no seeking. After the 20-minute chase, the ultimate destination presented itself. A lit-up yacht was lounging restfully upon the languid water. A deep breath, a jump, and Erik landed in the water. Not a moment was wasted as he made his way through the cold, dark liquid. If he was making his way, then you needed to.

All you wanted to do was scream as the temperature began seeping into your veins, but if you stood around in discomfort, it would overcome you. You didn’t have much experience swimming, but you used your mutation to glide without much hardship.

The megaboat presented itself far too quickly for your taste, as did Erik’s jump onto the surface. A man so focused was rare to see, but it was clear, even from your lowered position, that only one thing was playing in his brain. You swam to the very edge of the boat by the ladder, and that’s where you witnessed the knives being pulled by your brother. Even more so, the symbol engraved on it. Sebastian Shaw was going to die by his own legacy.

You had just jumped onto the boat when Erik’s frame entered the boat lighting and Shaw’s sight.

“Herr Doktor.” The man—the monster—had finally come face-to-face with his own monstrous creation. No fear seemed to present itself in his voice, though, as he only greeted Erik with an odd surprise of delight.

“Little Erik Lensherr.”

Even though the knife was on full display, his blonde companion was quick to broadcast his intentions. “He is here to kill you… and he isn’t alone.”

Well, that wasn’t planned. With no choice but to come out, you realized that you were grossly unprepared. You brought no weapon other than your mutation’s unpredictability. Though, as you came face-to-face with the man who had haunted every thought you’ve had since you were six, you were certain that a chaotic outburst wasn’t too far away. Hopefully, you could aim it this time. As surprised as Shaw was, it was nothing compared to Erik’s surprise. Maybe you should have just stayed at the hotel.

“Ah! Two makes a party! It’s a shame that, even grown up, you haven’t learned manners. Come on now, this is not the type of greeting. After all these years?”

Suddenly, piercing scratches engraved their way through your ear canals and into your brain. Sounds of drilling, shrieks, and electricity all began buzzing and mixing together as one face came into focus: Sebastian Shaw and his sick satisfaction at your torture, which he labeled “experiment.” You noticed Erik was on his knees yet broke free and took his chance by throwing the knife, guiding it through his own mutation. This break of focus by Emma Frost gave you liberation of your own mind and the opportunity to strike.

As Emma flung Erik over the boat’s edge, you took your time to fight back. In her diamond form, you swung into the air, hitting no target with your physical knuckles but using the gravity around her to make your impact, seeing a satisfying crack in her diamond coating.

“Well! Young Y/N fighting back!” Shaw's disgustingly gleeful voice rang through the air, distracting you just enough for Emma to nearly repeat the same move she used on your brother. But you were fast. Grabbing her arm, you used a few moves you managed to learn from Erik's very limited fighting lessons. Kicking her firmly in the stomach was enough to deceive you into believing you had a chance—until coast guard lights began lighting up your scene. Even with spotlights on you, you weren't going to let your shot at Shaw miss.

You fully lunged for the despicable man, until suddenly your feet were no longer touching the ground. Looking down, you saw the boat at least 40 feet below you, and as you turned your head upwards, you were met with a devilish face snarking back at you.

“He doesn't need two of you.”

You were no stranger to pain. Crushing, slicing, and even nerve-shocking pain were unfortunate realities of your mutation. But the feeling of stabbing was different—not a thousand little pricks, but a clean slice across your stomach. As was the sensation of it being ruptured and invaded by the dropping air, as the grip on the front of your black sweater let go. You could hear metal rampaging through the yacht, knowing Erik was doing what he was bred for: pain and destruction. While you were doing what you were bred for: failure embodied on a chopping block.

Your mutation worked instinctively to protect you from death upon impact, but the frigidness seeped into your wounds as crimson began coating the already dark waves. Even with the softened impact, your lungs still had the air knocked out of them, which you naturally gasped to regain, yet only took gulps of salty water flavored with copper blood.

Eyes closed, your connection to Erik was still too strong. The connection to all the forces was too strong. You could feel the submarine slipping away, along with your consciousness. If death already had you in its grasp, you might as well play your last laugh in life.

With every last cell marked with the pesky X-gene, you bent gravity to your will to lift the submarine. Slowly, the ocean's grip on the metal contraption began loosening as it was exposed to the night air. It was becoming excruciating as the salt penetrated your exposed flesh and water filled your lungs as you began laughing. You were happy you were in the water when the tears came. At least when Mama saw you, she wouldn't be able to tell the tear stains. If you died laughing, maybe Erik would somehow hear it through the ocean's enveloping waves. At last, you would be at peace. The darkness that overtook your eyes then overtook all your senses, leaving you an unconscious hope drifting at sea.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

Charles Xavier has known humanity more intimately than potentially any human before. Yet that fateful night in 1962 was one that changed his perspective on it more than any of the prior decades of his telepathic existence.

All he was meant to do was invade the mind of one Sebastian Shaw, help with world peace, and get started with his teachings as an official professor. Though, nothing worthwhile in life is planned. When Charles realized that the water was not free of occupants, he rushed to save Erik from drowning himself. Until he realized that there was a soul drowning beneath the waves and one suffocating above in the night air.

“Oh my God,” a horrified Moira could only gasp as two figures levitated above in the moonlight before one simply poofed away while it seemed a girl dropped at a concerning speed. In an instant, Charles made a plan and prayed that it would work for the lives of the two strangers and his own conscience. The water was unwelcoming to Charles as it clung to him, trying to drag him down, but he was defiant as he latched onto the tall man in front of him.

“You can't! You'll drown! You have to let go. I know what this means to you, but you and your sister are going to die. Please, Erik, calm your mind.”

The sensation was all uncomfortable and intrusive to Erik, but the one thing that made him refuse all his instincts to keep going was the mention of his beloved sister, you. The two men emerged from the icy domain of the water, and as all questions of who this strange voice in his mind was, Erik had only one thing on his mind:

“Where is she?!”

Very distantly, Charles could feel the last grasp of consciousness and knew time was of the utter essence.

“She is not far, but we have no time to lose. Can you pull her with your ability?”

Out of breath and in far too many layers of confusion and panic, Erik had no hesitation as he stuck his hand out, praying you had enough metal upon you for Erik to use. Thankfully, you decided to wear the very first necklace Erik had gifted to you after your escape for Hanukkah. It was a small necklace with a few charted stars. It was stolen, that much you could assume due to your financial standing, but you had kept it dear to your heart and chest for all these years.

Erik clung to the feeling of its magnetic pull and called it to him. His frozen blue eyes were manically wide as he kept out for any sign of you. While he worked on bringing you forward with his mutation, Charles dove back in. Back into the dark abyss of the water and your unconscious mind.

It was rare for the mind to be a silent place. Even when he was younger, accidentally invading someone's dreams was never a quiet sensation. Yet again, Charles had never been in the brain of an unconscious soul. He didn’t want the list of firsts to continue with the feeling of losing a life in his arms. Faster, deeper, he went at full speed, chasing that faint buzzing of your brain. As he got further below the surface, you got closer to it. The small and dainty necklace was unnaturally the levy to your entire being when Charles grabbed your faint body in his arms and swam to the surface with a hunger for air. With each stroke, he tried to enter your mind, begging you to wake.

Within a few moments, the two of you were back in the realm of oxygen as Erik met you. Charles quickly switched you into Erik’s arms as the three of you made it to the CIA boat. Erik had no reason to trust the man in front of him except for the fact that he saved your lives and that he may be like you. A mutant.

Even before your body was lain on the ground, Charles' urgent pleas for medical aid rang through the icy air. Erik's reddened hands were covered in crimson while his cheeks were covered in tears.

“Liebling, please. Please! Bitte!”

Erik hadn’t pleaded in 17 years. It was a foreign taste to his tongue, but he would make it go numb if it meant you no longer would be. You weren’t the one meant to die today. Erik was going to surprise you. Just one last ticket. This time, wherever you want to go. Forever. Start your life. It was supposed to be the beginning. Now why is it the end?

It was hard for Charles to focus when Erik's thoughts nearly drowned out the faint buzzing of your consciousness. All he wished to do was calm Erik's mind, but any second spent on him was one second closer to death for you. With a hand on his forehead and one brushing the hair away from your face, Charles clung onto that small sliver in your brain.

It was a fountain. Not too grand, but with the way the water sparkled and mirrored the surrounding gothic buildings, it made quite the spectacle. The weather was warm yet not hot, aided by the slight breeze. Floral scents wafted through the air, mixed in with the fountain and fresh bread from a bakery close by. Charles knew he was in a memory of yours with the way he felt the emotions you did: joy, contentment, and hopefulness. He knew it was a memory because above all those emotions, the one of aching presented itself painfully.

Fingers were intertwined with his. He finally moved his eyes away from the fountain and to the point of connection. Your hands didn’t clench to him. Instead, his did to you. Yours were grasping until the point your knuckles were white, with the hand of a woman. She looked youthful and beautiful, though there was a strain in her eyes. A sadness she entrapped, only visible in the reflection of the sparkling water fountain. You faced forward, but the look of wonder was infected with confusion at Charles’s additional presence. The fingers in his began to move, brushing with his. The woman to your right, who you assumed to be your mother, sighed lovingly and pulled your hand toward her as she tried to move. You were frozen.

“Es ist Zeit zu gehen, meine Liebe.”

Her voice was honey-sweet and a long-sought comfort. Charles noticed how your knees bent to move and your finger pointed to follow.

“Y/N, come back to us.”

Your fingers were now tracing the inside of his palms, as if trying to follow a map. Once again, you made no effort to move, but Charles did. He tugged your hand gently to gain your attention, though it didn’t work as your eyes still traced the glorious movements of the falling water in front of you.

“Y/N, wir müssen gehen, Erik wartet.”

Your name sounded so pretty with its proper pronunciation from the woman who had given it to you. The language was still foreign to Charles, but it was your mind, so you could make sense of it, and by association, so could he. A tug once more to your clasped hand.

“Erik is this way. He needs you.”

Your eyes flinched as Charles saw more life and confusion dance behind them. Turning your head, you saw your mother. Her patient smile, crinkled crow's feet, and jubilant hair you always loved to play with when doing dress-up with her. She was everything you longed for. A near step in her direction was too close for Charles.

He placed a hand upon your shoulder, and only then did he finally get the privilege of being witness to such a sight of beauty. You turned your head and knew instantly that this was not a product of your mind. It could never produce such a sight as Charles Xavier’s eyes. The longer the stare was held between you two, the more you felt it all. The gravity of the water, the birds slicing through the air, and a faint pain growing stronger in your stomach. You looked down at it and saw the red staining the milk-white dress you donned. Back to those deep orbs, who seemed to beg you to tug back. Slowly, you started to hear the pleas of a man echoing through the memory. It sounded eerily similar to Erik.

“Y/N.”

At the same time, your mother’s comforting and Charles’s intriguing voices called for you. Your hands were outstretched in front of the fountain as the sun began to set. You felt as the skin began to break apart as the cut deepened. Erik’s voice was as persistent as that never-ending flowing fountain. It was odd—not being able to feel another’s heartbeat, but Charles’s beating so rapidly. Your mother’s didn’t beat at all.

The young man knew just how tempted you were to let go of his grasp. The soliciting pathway out of the tribulation so filled with sorrow was hard to resist, more so for you. All it had been since this near-decade-old memory was a sea of despair. Charles swore to himself that if he was able to get you back, it would not follow that pattern. He was in your mind, but it seemed you were in his as well, as you looked at him as he took his vow. A silence between you two as more voices joined the now urgent shouts of Erik and the maelstrom of metal bending. Your fingers clutched your mother’s as she gave you a loving smile. It was returned with glossy eyes.

“Erik is waiting for me, mama.”

Your fingers finally fully intertwined with Charles’s as you let go of the woman you thought of every night. Once again, your eyes were caught in his orbit as everything became far sharper and more tangible. The sounds of the falling water droplets of the fountain were the last of the memory to dissipate when your eyes finally opened.

A ragged and painful breath was signal enough for Erik as he lifted his head from your shoulder in disbelief.

“Liebling!”

Charles stepped back to give you room but noticed your hands were intertwined in reality, just as they had been in your mind. You looked around and met at least half a dozen pairs of eyes staring down at you, and a pair of gloved hands trying to catarize your stomach in a fashion that made you queasy.

Erik grasped your face to look at it, but you pushed his hands away, along with the young man trying to heal you. If you could, you would have pushed everyone far enough away so you could do your own healing in seclusion, but you did not have such privilege. Eyes slipping closed, your hands rested on your stomach as you sped up your blood clotting process. The cut was diagonal, long, and deep, but with years of practice on much smaller cuts, you were able to manage a speedy procedure that fully stopped any external bleeding. Then came the painful part. You looked forward, past a certain brunette woman’s curious eyes, as you held back grunts of pain. Charles watched in amazement and intense worry as your skin was being pulled at an unusual pace toward the other ripped half, unnaturally closing securely. After one internal check of everything in order with your gift of gravity, you let out a shaky breath, dreading what was to come next.

“That was extraordinary.”

To your left, the man from your mind was there. He was real, yet still not out of your brain as you heard him. He gave you a charming and compassionate smile at your confusion.

“I am just like you. You are not alone.”

You were given no opportunity to respond, nevertheless comprehend what had all happened when Erik forcibly turned your sore body towards him.

“Was dachtest du, was du da macpymhst?!” The words didn’t need to be elaborated to any of the operatives, which many could already translate, to know they were not ones that you were eager to answer. Their expectations coming true as you lifted yourself up, with generous aid by the man you for some reason wanted to call Charles. Erik’s eyes were wide and frantic as he examined you and your shivering form. He had nothing to give you of warmth, but Charles did. Wordlessly, he offered you his coat, and yet another staring match; you took it with a shy smile. As if there was a conversation between the two of you that the rest were not privy to. He suggested that all of you go inside and shelter away from the cold, an offer you gladly took as it took you away from Erik. Though, of course, not for long.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t know where you were going, you simply walked the halls and back towards your brother. “I would simply like to rest, Erik, not now.” Looking past Erik’s burning stare, you addressed the young man who you just now noticed was as drenched as you and Erik. “Do you have anywhere we can rest? We will be gone by dawn, I swear.”

You had no idea how you would do that and where you would go from here, but that was an issue for tomorrow. If you could, you would have demanded to be taken to shore and out of the way of whoever these people were, but you were simply too exhausted. The young man stepped forward, his accent as smooth and refined as silk.

“Actually, we would prefer you to be here by sunlight. We would like you to stay, join us. You two are not the only ones. You are not alone.”

You finally looked at Erik, albeit with apprehension, and he did the same as he tried to understand what the still unintroduced man was saying. It seemed to hit him then (or did he peer into your minds? Was that his ability?).

“Ah, I am so sorry, I fear I have been too distracted to properly introduce myself. Charles Xavier.”

He first held out his hand for you, that smile ever-present. You took it cautiously but he returned with understanding. He turned to Erik, who, to your surprise, took it. An enthusiasm radiated in the air surrounding Charles.

“This is Agent Moira MacTaggert and fellow CIA agents—”

“The CIA?”

A panic rang through your voice. You were raised to trust no one, nevertheless the government. Any kind. You remembered the last time you got caught up. You were beginning to question whether or not Charles was a telepath or empath, as he knew exactly what to ease your worries, somewhat.

“The mutant division. We are after Shaw just as you are. Now you just don’t have to be on your own.”

Moira nodded from behind him in confirmation while Charles was focused on Erik, seemingly knowing he was the decision-maker between the two of you. Clearly, there was a conversation between the two in the sphere of the mind. Yet, whatever Charles had said must have been meticulously crafted as Erik did something against his very nature. He took Charles’s hand and agreed to join along with whatever this was. Then it was his turn to brush past you and deeper into the boat.

Considering you were all in a metal boat that he could easily crush like a tin can, it was no surprise a short man with glasses and a black suit followed along with the pretty Moira. That just left you and Charles.

“I apologize for the intrusion, though that was a beautiful memory. I can see why you thought of it.”

His words were soft and genuine. You knew mutants were oddities, but Charles seemed the oddest of them all. A rarity within rarities.

“You saved my life.” The words were blunt but didn’t offend Charles in the slightest.

“I would say you saved your own life. You made the choice.”

Charles took your processing time to take you in. Your hair was drenched and knotted yet somehow looked perfectly styled for your prettily reddened cheeks and nose and sparkling eyes. His bones were freezing but, to him, it was worth it. He would be willing to suffer the cold into the morning if he could ensure you would be there. Just a glimpse into your mind, and Charles wanted to indulge more. This was a sensation he had never felt before. His own cheeks grew red, not out of bitter wind but out of embracing heat as he thought of how Raven would tease him mercilessly if she saw him now.

Clearing his throat, he gestured for you to follow him.

“You can rest in this room tonight. I will tell Moira to bring you a change of clothes to ensure you don’t get a case of hypothermia. Rest as much as you need, truly.”

You looked inward at the small but functional room. You turned back and noticed the intense gaze of those crystal eyes.

“I don’t know what to say.”

If only you had a dollar for every time he had flashed that ever-present smirk at you.

“A ‘goodnight’ should suffice quite nicely.”

A slight smile began to grow on your lips. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

translations:

Liebling - darling

Bitte - Please

Es ist Zeit zu gehen, meine Liebe - It's time to go, my love

wir müssen gehen, Erik wartet- we have to go, Erik is waiting

Was dachtest du, was du da macpymhst?! - What did you think you were doing?!

[doofus-and-dragons]

This will more than likely be the last one of these I have. So, for the last time, here is my live reaction to the final season of TMA. These will be in no particular order because ice been listening to it over the span of a couple of weeks. I only listen to it at work.

TMA S5 Spoilers ahead

The cabin episode made me so sad. The eyepocolypse had even taken away their domestic bliss

I really don't remember the trenches that well. It's not a fear of mine, so it didn't shake me or stick well enough. Still good tho

The sickness episode sent me right back to senior year of highschool. I had to take a minute KXNSKXN

REVOLUTIONS WAS AMAZING I LOVED THE POETRY AND THE ACENGING OF SASHA BY KILLING NOT!SASHA. I love it.

At first I thought the worms was about Jane again but I was very wrong. It was a very interesting take!

Curiosity made me incredibly sad. I feel bad for Eric, Micheal, and Sarah(? Trinity? I don't remember. She was set on fire by a desolation avatar I think)

Also: Gertrude x Agnes perhaps???? Or at least solemn pinning? Maybe I just think it's slightly tragic to make it so and sometimes angst is good yknow?

Roots was ok, but the only part that stuck out to me was the jealous Martin scene. I listened to it like 3 times. I kept rewinding it just to list to it.

Fire Escape was SO good! It gave me a kind of manic energy as I listened to the descriptions of the fire.

Martin in the Lonely again made me cry. That's it.

"Who's this? Your boyfriend?" "Yes actually." "Oh...so is there anyway this doesn't end in me dead?"

The Basira and Daisy stuff actually did make me feel bad for Basira. Like, it's the apocalypse and she's having a whole ass crisis.

SALESA WAS INCREADIBLE

I wonder how he faked his death... man is talented and smart, I'll give him that

Skipping ahead to Martin's domain. Loved that. My boy isn't strictly human and I love that he can't deny that fact anymore.

Martin: Something something "one of you"

Jon, being a smug theater kid bastard boy: "One of us."

Like I heard that and I imagined him smirking ominously and gesturing with both his hands

He sounded so pleased that his boyfriend, as miniscule a role it had or that martin had, was like him, and I love that for him

I'm so glad Melanie and Georgie are happy. Though, the cult does weird me out (cults give me the heebie jeebies. It was a very nice touch!)

They deserve nice things.

Also, my favorite of the Cult members was Anil's character. I can't remember his name right off the top of my head, but he was wonderful. Anil did amazing with that little cameo/role

The scene where's he's arguing with Martin reminds me of that Jojo meme with jotoro and dio, but instead of stands they have their poetry clutched tight in their fists

"I dont need a poet." No, Jon, because you already have one. His name is Martin

Of course Jon gets trapped in the ocean when he doesn't have big string martin to row him out of it XD

SOMEWHERE ELSE SOMEWHERE ELSE SOMEWHERE ELSE

Annabelle Cane is wonderful, I'm so glad Jon didn't kill her. She's so chummy with Martin up until she has to be a dramatic villain and I love that for her!

The ladder episode made me grin like a maniac manly because I would be the Martin in that situation. I love the feeling of falling/floating, but I hate actually getting myself to fall. I physically can't do it. I can barely dive into the lake from my papaw's boat

Martin, there are thousands of fanfics that dive into you two getting together without the trauma. Don't even.

NO JON THE PLAN

Hey, real elias! That's where him being a stoner comes from! Because he is one! Nice.

I love og Elias, and I would protect him with my life I don't care.

Oh wait it was just Magnus dreaming

JON NO THE PLAN FUCKING HELL

I almost cried when Martin was yelling at Jon. The boys are fighting

THE KISS HOLY SHIT ALEX SAKD THEY WOULDNT KISS THEY KISSED AH

They're somewhere else being happy and domestic now you can't change my mind

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Writing Masterlist.

Hello my name is Bex! Welcome to my blog and my writing’s masterlist.

May I ask that before sending me any asks or interacting you read my Rules/Who/What I Write For. Thank you so much!

—

My Ao3 has a good portion of my stuff but you will find ALL of my writing in this list! Here are my tips for writing smut! Here is my writing process. And Here is my ramblings about things important to me to include in my writing if you care about some of the meaning behind what I do.

Here is the link to my Ko-fi if you wanna support me and what I do.

Did you know I also do commissions? Here is the info!

Writing Links Below The Cut!

Freddy Krueger Masterlist.

Billy Loomis/Stu Macher Poly!Ghostface Masterlist.

Ethan Landry Masterlist.

Mickey Altieri Masterlist.

Danny Johnson/Jed Olson/DBD Ghostface Masterlist.

Buddy Swanson/Metal Killer Mastlist.

Sam Wescott/The Wood Carver Masterlist.

Leslie Vernon Masterlist.

Charles Lee Ray Masterlist.

Tiffany Ray Valentine Masterlist.

Bo/Vincent/Lester Sinclair Masterlist.

Gabriel May Masterlist.

Herbert West Masterlist.

Poly!Coven Masterlist.

The Grabber Masterlist.

The Driller Killer/Johnny Masterlist.

Warwick Wilson Masterlist.

Ash Williams Masterlist.

Event And Sub Masterlists:

Commissions Masterlist.

Love Letter Masterlist.

Fake Fic Ask Masterlist.

Multi-May Masterlist.

Kinky December Masterlist.

Amber Cottrell OC. Freddy's Girl.

Misc.

"It Was Inevitable" Micheal Myers X FEM! AFAB! Reader. NSFW.

"We Match!" The Ghost/"Mitch" X AFAB! Reader. NSFW.

"Making Him The Exception." Machete Sam X AFAB! Reader. NSFW.

"King Of The Kayaks." Steve The Kayak King X GN! Reader. NSFW.

"Perfect Pretender." Alex Browning X Tod Waggner X AFAB! Reader. NSFW.

"Something Life Affirming." Willaim Bludworth X AFAB! Reader. NSFW.

"A Deep And Festering Need." Edward Porris X GN! Reader.

[bosinclairsgff]

Requests Rules <3

Hey everyone, I want to get back into writing fanfiction and stuff like that! So here are my request rules and other important things to know! (I used to only write on Wattpad so I'm new to using Tumblr pls be nice <3)

Requests: open

Will do

Hurt x comfort

Fluff

Head cannons

Sometimes mentions of abuse, kidnapping, murder or sh (there will be trigger warnings)

Light angst

Drabbles

Characters hurting the reader (there will be a tw)

Reader with depression or anxiety

NSFW

Won't do

Pregnant reader

Child reader

Parent reader

x male, ftm, mtf or poly reader (I am not qualified to write about those as I have no experience involving them)

Some kinks I’m just not gonna do so if I don’t respond to a NSFW request that’s why (not shaming or anything tho)

Reader being a murder or in anyway killing on purpose or for fun

Characters I will write for

Halloween: RZ Micheal Myers, Corey Cunningham

Amusement: The Laugh

The Boy: Brahms Heelshire

Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Nubbins Sawyer, Bubba Sawyer(platonic only),Thomas Hewitt, Chop Top Sawyer, Drayton Sawyer, Vilmer Sawyer

Scream: Stu Matcher, Billy Loomis, Amber Freeman, Sydney

Friday The 13th: Jason Voorhees

House Of Wax: Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair

Saw: Amanda Young, Mark Hoffman

House Of 1,000 corpses: Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly

American Psycho: Patrick Bateman

Child's Play: Tiffany Valentine

The Black Phone: The Grabber/Albert Shaw

The Collector: Arkin

Silent Hilld/DBD: Pyramid Head

Carrie: Carrie White

Ghost Ship: Jack Ferriman

Thirteen Ghosts: Dennis Rafkin

The Shining: Jack Torrance, Wendy Torrance

The Invitation: Walter Deville

Midnight Mass: Father Paul

The funhouse massacre: Doll face

A nightmare on Elm Street (2010) : Quentin Smith

My Bloody Valentine 3-D: Tom Hanniger

Don’t breathe: Norman Nordstrom

The Purge Anarchy: Leo Barnes

Midsommer: Pelle

Thanksgiving: Sheriff Eric Newlon

Leather face (2017) : Jedediah Sawyer

American horror story : Kai Anderson, Kit Walker, Patrick March

Jennifer’s Body : Jennifer Check

Re- animator: Herbert West

Jeepers Creepers: Darry Jenner

Grave Enconters: Lance Preston, Alex Wright

The Dare: Credence, Dominic

31: Doomhead

Longlegs: Dale Kobble, Lee Harker

Trap: Cooper Adams

CREEP: Josef

DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY ACCOUNT IF YOU ARE

Homophobic

Fatphobic

Transphobic

A minor

Racist