saintrenee



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Arthur notices Merlin’s constant injuries, and decides he needs to step in and protect Merlin.

    Language:
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    09 Mar 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Merlins has bruises and it takes him charging a gryfffin for Arthur to figure it out

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “Shrapnel,” Tony says, and alarms go off around his ears and he can’t breathe and the pain is going to eat him up from the head down. “In my heart. I made it. Not the shrapnel. ...Well. The shrapnel too.”

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    09 Mar 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    The after math of Afghanistan

  3. Public Bookmark 70

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    “You have alerts set up to notify you of my financial movements,” Peter said slowly.

    “And your actual locational movements, your internet search history, and any and all uses of any of your four passports,” Stiles added, mock-helpfully. “Mr Hale-Delaunay-Mirren-Addams.”

    “Of course you do.” The werewolf paused a moment, clearly considering. “I think I’m flattered,” he decided.

    Stiles wants answers. Peter wants to go back to bed. Turns out, they’re not mutually exclusive desires.

    Series
    Language:
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    26,317
    Chapters:
    3/3
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    30 Jan 2018

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Everyone knew what happened when soulmates touched each other. Whether it was hands clasping together, fingers brushing across a jaw, or lips meeting in a kiss - it didn’t matter. Any skin-to-skin contact and chests started glowing with soft, white-blue light. Soul-light, it was called.

    Tony woke up in a cave in Afghanistan with a hole in his chest and wires coming out of it and felt his blood run cold. He knew instinctively what it meant. He’d lost his ability to produce a soul-light. And so no matter how much he yearned for it in the secret, hidden corners of his heart, Tony would never find his soulmate.

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    22 Jan 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Soul light fic, tony doesnt have one due to the arc reactor

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

    He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

     

    Or the one where Stiles goes thrift shopping and steals an alpha's shirt. And gets a lot more than he bargains for.

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    21 Jan 2018