#; night blindness ( star wars au )

[bloatedandalone04]

Screaming Whispers

➪the one where anakin is a musician and you’re his muse.

Warnings: rockstar anakin, modern au, smut, fluff, swearing to the max, pda, unprotected sex, hair pulling, praise kink, small corruption kink, size sink, his bands name is 'screaming whispers' which translates to 'sw' for short...like sw for star wars??? and i didn’t even plan that, it just happened, jealousy (brief), possessive anakin, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft dom anakin, choking kink

Word Count: 6.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The lights were blinding and his ears were ringing, but Anakin wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

He couldn’t see much past the flashlights on the phones and the stage lights that flickered in time with the drums his bandmate, Vinny, was currently pounding on. Live shows were always so much better than being stuck in a recording studio all day, because at least out on stage Anakin could let out all his pent up frustration and no one would bat an eye.

Actually, the way he got so into his performance and really gave it his all had his fans absolutely losing their minds as they, too, fell under the control of the music and the lights and the lyrics. 

Anakin had only been in his band, Screaming Whispers, for just over a year now, but that was apparently enough time to get his and his friends’ names out there. One low budget album later and everyone knew about them, and really, Anakin had you to thank. 

You are his high school sweetheart, and have been his biggest supporter since the day he told you he wanted to do something with music and maybe try to make it his career. 

After writing countless drafts of songs that were all about you and his relationship with you, Anakin asked a couple of his friends who played instruments to rent out a recording studio to record one of the drafts he had actually finished. 

Anakin was the lead singer and guitarist, while his friend, Vinny, played the drums, and his other friend, Theo, played bass.  

It came out sounding decent and Anakin ended up editing it himself before uploading it to his burner account on Youtube, choosing some random photo he had taken of your hand holding his as the thumbnail. 

Within a few days, the video only had about thirty views, and he knew most of them were from you.

When he had first let you listen to the song with a nervous expression gracing his features, he was worried when you didn’t say anything during the whole two minutes and forty six seconds it played for. 

It ended and you turned to him, an unreadable look on your face before you were throwing yourself at him. He had never seen you so needy and desperate for him (unless he counted the very first time you and he slept together), and you spent the rest of the night loving on him because he had written you a song. 

Your boyfriend of over three years at that point had actually made a whole song about you. How could you not tear his clothes off right then and there?

A few more weeks had passed when Anakin randomly decided to see how the video was doing. He was bored and you were at class, and he had grown tired of walking around your shared apartment on campus by himself. 

When he clicked on the video, he was sure he had accidentally clicked the wrong one when he saw that it had gone from thirty views to ninety eight thousand views. It had over forty thousand likes and just under a thousand comments, all of which were praising him and the guys for how good the song is. 

You once again jumped his bones a few hours later when he showed you it, muttering something about how you knew people would like the song once it got more exposure. 

A month later, it had nearly a million views and Anakin was left to assume that the song had gone viral on a different platform that resulted in people searching the song up on Youtube. He didn’t go on TikTok or Instagram as he had no desire to, but was informed by Theo that the song actually did become super popular on TikTok and that was how so many people had found the video on his Youtube. 

Since it had gotten way more attention than he had ever expected it to, Anakin quickly changed the channel name from ‘Manakin 246’ to ‘Screaming Whispers’. It was the first thing he thought of and both Vinny and Theo agreed to call themselves that if they were to ever record another song together. 

Well, just a few days after that, the trio was contacted by a record label and a week later, they were signed onto Dynamic Studios as an official band. 

It all happened so fast. Anakin was encouraged to finish and edit his previous drafts, and that was how he found himself recording a whole album with most of the songs being about you. Vinny and Theo helped out a lot with the songs, but insisted Anakin be credited as the lead songwriter, since the whole thing was his idea. 

The album was called ‘Taking Back October’, and it had been streamed over three million times over various music sites. That, of course, resulted in a tour being booked, and that was where he is now. 

A full year after uploading that song and three months of being on tour, Anakin could safely say he was meant to do this. 

But the best part of it all? He had you watching him from your spot backstage, the biggest smile on your lips whenever he looked over at you from his place on the center of the stage. 

From where you stood, he looked to be having the time of his life. He looked so in his element, so confident and comfortable, and not to mention unbelievably attractive. 

You found yourself biting your lip as you hid away from the crowd. Part of you wondered how he did it, how he was so at home in front of thousands of strangers, but you supposed some people were just meant for the spotlight, and Anakin is definitely one of those people. 

You definitely were not, as just the mere thought of stepping out onto the stage would send you into a full blown panic attack. And Anakin knew that, so despite him wanting to show you off to the world and to his fans - he couldn’t believe he actually has fans - he knew better than to shove you into the limelight like that. 

For now, you were comfortable backstage, two lanyards around your neck that told everyone you were a guest on the tour, and that you were allowed backstage. 

As you watched your boyfriend play and sing his heart out to his song Homecoming Queen, one of the stage crew members came waltzing up to you, a kind yet flirtatious smile on his lips. “Hi,” he said over the loud live music. 

“Hi,” you called back, never taking your eyes off Anakin. 

The guy looked down at your tour and backstage passes, a smirk growing on his lips. “You a friend of the bands?”

That made you glance over at him, and you were immediately uncomfortable at the way he was looking at you. “Something like that,” you answer, and it was true - Vinny and Theo had also gone to high school with you, but they were closer to Anakin, obviously - but the crew member didn’t seem too convinced. “I’m dating the lead singer, this song is actually about me.” You try again and watch as his eyes grow wide before he’s looking on stage and at your boyfriend.

He meets Anakin’s blue orbs, and right away you could see a hint of possessiveness in them, similar to the look he’d give other guys when they looked at you for a little too long back in high school. 

The crew guy just backs away and leaves you alone, making you grin over at your boyfriend. Anakin just smirks before he is back to singing the chorus, all while never falling out of tune with the rest of the band. 

Even though you were buzzing with excitement for what’s in store for you once he’s off the stage and you’d have him all to yourself, you couldn’t deny how attractive he looks on stage. 

The show had been going on for just over an hour, and they would be wrapping up soon. Anakin’s skin was coated in a light layer of sweat, and the leather jacket he had been wearing when he had first walked out on stage had long since been discarded. His muscles flexed under the flashing lights as he effortlessly played his electric guitar and sang his heart out. 

You were sure his throat was raw, but he didn’t stop, and the fans were loving it. You also couldn’t take your eyes off the way the muscles in his neck strained as he reached the higher notes of the song, and you had to press your thighs together to feel some sort of relief for the pressure that had been steadily building up. 

After another ten minutes or so, the band wrapped up the performance and left the stage, leaving the fans still screaming in the stands. After Anakina picked up his jacket he tossed near the drum kit, he handed his guitar to the same stage crew member who had been talking to you, before he wrapped his free arm around your waist. 

Your hands were barely touching either side of his face before he was kissing you deeply, the hand that held his jacket moving to grip your waist. Anakin pulled you closer to him, his adrenaline making his body ache for yours in hopes to find some sort of relief for the energy that surged through him. 

“You were amazing out there,” you praised against his mouth, wanting nothing more than to poke your tongue out and run it up the side of his damp neck. “Like always.”

“Thank you, pretty girl,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours before dipping his head down to kiss your neck. His hands bunched up the thin fabric of your loose sundress, the flowery print making his want for you skyrocket. “You look hot.”

You laugh, glancing down at the simple dress that seemed to turn him on as if it was the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. “You look hot,” you say back and brush his slightly wet hair away from his forehead. You had to crane your neck a bit to be able to gaze up into his blue eyes, due to the sheer size difference between the two of you. The physical evidence of just how different you two are, even down to your height, had you pressing your thighs together again. 

He wore dark clothes, most of which are adorned with chains, and his left arm was showing off a steadily growing sleeve of tattoos of random things - a lightsaber, a  couple quotes, more than a few vulgar images, and most importantly, an outline of a heart with the initial of your first name inside it on his bicep. His wardrobe consisted of jeans, muscle tees, leather and jean jackets, and vintage - though sometimes graphic - shirts. He wore black boots or converse to tie off every outfit, completed with a couple of wristbands, rings and his signature necklace chain with your initials on the small charm. 

You wore light colors, dresses and skirts that allowed you to show off the soft skin of your legs. Your body was bare of tattoos, with the exception of an ‘A’ on the side of your left wrist. Gold and silver jewelry were always on your wrist or around your neck, and you often wore flats or sneakers that went well with the rest of your look.

It was a big difference between the two of you, one that had been there since you were both seventeen, and it was what drew you into one another to begin with. 

He looked intimidating, scary, even, but you found out that he had the sweetest heart, and he had given it to you.

��I am hot,” he grinned down at you, and the double meaning had you shaking your head as he stepped away from you and placed his jacket over your shoulders. He looked you up and down, biting down harshly on his bottom lip as his hands found their home on your waist again. The black leather contrasted against your light dress in such a sinful way, Anakin almost let out a groan at the sight. “Fuck, I can’t wait to take you back to the hotel after this.”

The band was playing two shows in D.C., so their manager went out of her way to book them a hotel for the night. It saved them from sleeping on the tour bus, which was surprisingly difficult to do, and Anakin could usually fall asleep anywhere. 

He once fell asleep sitting down with his back pressed up against a washing machine in the laundry room at your apartment while he was waiting for the load to dry. He probably would’ve been sleeping for at least another half hour, had another resident not woken him up because he was sleeping against the only available washing machine. 

But, for some reason, Anakin found that sleeping on a tour bus was next to impossible, even though he was given the only double bed because he had you with him.

So, in an attempt to get himself tired, he would spend a good hour with you in bed once he and the band got back on the bus after a show. 

He could only imagine how happy Theo and Vinny are at the fact that they won’t have to listen to the two of you going at it for at least one of the two hundred and fifty nights they spent on tour. 

“Yeah? You excited to spend a night with me in an actual room instead of a bus?” You teased, wrapping your arms around his shoulders when his wrapped around your waist and pulled your body right up against his. 

“I’m so fucking excited,” he answered, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as the stage crew walked around the two of you to begin packing up the equipment. He leaned down so his lips were brushing against your ear as he whispered, “We can be as loud as we want. I can’t wait to make you scream.”

You refrain from moaning in a public place, ignoring how dumb that sounded when you thought about how loud you got on a tour bus that had only a single, thin door that separated yours and Anakin’s room from the other guys. 

This man made you crazy in all the best possible ways. “Well,” you say back, tugging him impossibly closer by the hem of his white tee shirt. “What are you waiting for? An encore?”

Anakin groaned quietly, cursing under his breath when he felt your hand slide up the heated skin of his torso. “Fuck no,” he muttered, taking your hand in his and guiding you towards the exit door that would lead the two of you out to the parking lot. “I think if everyone in that audience could see just how good you look right now, they wouldn’t blame me for not going back out there and taking you to bed.”

You smirked a bit as he pulled you onto the bus with him and towards your room to indulge in a makeout session before he would give you the real thing once you got to the hotel. 

A short ten minute drive later, and Anakin was painfully aware of just how hard he’s gotten since your quick encounter backstage, followed by your intense making out that took place on the bus. 

Once his manager had given him the key to his room, Anakin pulled you along with him as he made his way to the elevator, pushing the button for the twelfth floor when he was in it. 

He leaned back against the wall as the numbers above the doors increased with every passing second. His lips were on yours in messy and noisy kisses, his hands sliding down to lift the bottom of your dress up as if you weren’t still in a public place, and were probably being recorded because every elevator seemed to have cameras nowadays. 

Once it stopped at the twelfth floor, Anakin easily picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, his hand placed firmly on your back to prevent your dress from slipping up and exposing you to anyone who might enter the hall while he carried you to the room.

He inserted the keycard for room 1209 with his free hand, before tossing it onto the table in the entryway. Anakin’s hands grip your waist after he sets you down and he turns your body away from him, his fingers sliding up your back and pushing your hair to the side. He unclasps the gold necklace he had bought you a few nights ago from a cute store you and he stumbled upon while you were out sightseeing. 

Anakin gently sets the chain down onto the table as well and places a few kisses to the back of your neck before he guides you forward and towards the king sized bed. “Look at that, baby,” he murmurs in your ear, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Since you had discarded his jacket back on the bus, his lips had free rein over the skin of your shoulders and neck as he sucked a few light marks onto it. “It’s bigger than our bed we have at home.”

Home. It seemed like so long ago, when in reality, Screaming Whispers had only been on tour for three months now. Anakin planned on using the money he would get from the tour and the shows to officially move in with you, in your own house, not a student apartment that was on the campus of his old college. 

You were still a student there, but had opted to get all your assignments done before the tour so you could save yourself from having to give up the school year. 

Humming, you lean back against his body. “We still need to get our bags from the bus,” 

Anakin sucked on the skin of your jaw as his hands pulled at the thin fabric of your dress. “I’ll get our stuff later,” he promised, sliding his hands up the front of your body, making chills take over you as he gripped your chest. “You look so fucking pretty, baby.” 

You hum again, closing your eyes when you feel one of his hands inch lower and lower until it disappears underneath your dress. “Just for you, Ani,” you whispered as he softly rubbed your clit through the thin lace of your panties. 

He kissed your shoulder in appreciation as his hand slipped past the lace, his ring-clad middle finger dipping into your heat. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he nearly moaned, his free arm wrapping around your middle when he felt your body slump back against his. “So wet for me.”

“Ani,” you gasped quietly, moaning when he began to pump his finger in and out of you. The lace restricted him from going super hard, but he much rather preferred to work you up to that, anyway. “Fuck, it’s all for you. You looked so hot tonight.”

“You look hot, too, pretty girl,” he mumbled and removed his hand from your panties as he spun your body around so your chest was pressed to his. “I saw the way that crew guy was looking at you.”

You moaned quietly when his knee separated your legs, his thigh rubbing against your core through his jeans. “I said I was with you,” you weakly say, gripping his biceps tightly when his hands found your waist and began sliding your body up and down his thigh. “Said I��m yours.”

“You are mine,” he rasped, pressing a searing kiss to your lips before he gently shoved you away. The backs of your knees hit the end of the bed and you fall back onto it, your dress slipping up past your thighs and revealing the pastel pink lace that covered your core. “You’ve been mine since we were seventeen.”

You bite down harshly on your lip when he pulls the lace down your legs and drops it to the floor. “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled when he ran his tongue up your folds, eagerly collecting your wetness. 

Anakin glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing at the way you were refraining from being too loud. “No, Y/n,” he says sternly, bringing a hand up to slide his index and middle fingers into you. “We have this whole room to ourselves. I want you to be as loud as you can fucking get.”

Almost instantly a loud moan escapes you when he sucks on your clit, your back arching slightly when he began to fuck his fingers into you. Those skilled fingers, the same ones that had so effortlessly played the guitar in front of thousands of people just a half hour before. “Fuck, Ani. Fuck,” you whined.

Anakin smirked against you, curling his fingers once they are knuckle deep within you. The calloused tips brush against your walls and make you squeeze your eyes shut, finding it hard to believe that a year before all this, the skin of his fingers was smooth and gentle as he only played guitar in his free time before he made a career out of it.

Over a year of playing it non-stop had hardened his fingers and was a blessing in disguise, as they had never felt better when they were buried deep within you. 

“God, it feels so good,” you whimpered as he traced the letters of his name with his tongue onto your clit. “So fucking good, Ani.”

He hummed, sending vibrations up your core and making your mind go into a frenzy. “Louder, baby,” he softly demanded, moving back up your body and hovering over you while his hand picks up the pace a bit. “I want this whole floor to complain about us tomorrow.”

You were so turned on, you couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about the sounds your core was making as his fingers plunged into it repeatedly. Not that Anakin ever let you feel embarrassed about it, seeing as he prided himself on how wet he makes you every time he goes out on stage. 

“I know you want it, too,” he continues as he stared down at your fucked out expression. “Admit it.”

“I want it,” you managed to say as his thumb began rubbing circles on your clit in time with his fingers. The coolness from his ring contrasted against your searing heat, making the knot in your abdomen steadily form. 

Anakin smirked down at you, leaning in to run his tongue along the skin under your ear. “Want what?” 

“God,” you groaned as he pumped his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace. “I want everyone on this floor to know who makes me feel so good, Anakin. I want them all to complain about how loud we are.”

Anakin was satisfied with your answer, “That’s my girl,” and he leaned down to begin sucking various marks onto the skin of your neck, the sounds you were emitting going straight to his dick that throbbed against his jeans. He didn’t think he could ever get tired of hearing all the sweet sounds you made just for him, and had been making for him since you were in high school. 

“Anakin,” you moaned, lifting your hips in time with the movement of his hand. “Please, please, don’t stop.” Your lips brushed against his as you begged him to keep fucking you with his skilled fingers. 

He hummed, kissing you deeply. “You gonna come for me?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he felt the way you clenched around his fingers every time your walls sucked him back in. 

“Yes,” you nearly whispered, a crease forming in your brow as the coil in your stomach was a mere few seconds away from snapping. “Please.”

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he requested, his voice deep and sultry next to your ear. “I want it all over my hand.”

You were unable to deny him his wish as you came hard, your thighs shaking slightly and your mouth opening to let out a long and loud moan. Your head dipped back into the middle of the bed, your fingers twisting tightly in the soft comforter as he slowed down the thrusts of his hand until you were whimpering quietly. 

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, kissing you once before removing his fingers from inside you. He brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks the digits clean as he moves back down your body. Anakin licked a single strip up your slick core before standing up, smirking at the way your whole body shook at the action. 

You weakly propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him pull his belt from his jean loops. He drops it to the floor, the sound of the buckle hitting the hardwood making your head swim with thoughts of what’s in store for you next.  

“Take that pretty dress off, baby,” he said under his breath, reaching behind him to pull off the white tee and leaving it to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You quickly lifted yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed, your hands fumbling to tug off your dress. Anakin gives you a soft smirk at how obedient you always are for him as you tossed the dress off the side of the bed, kicking his jeans down his legs and leaving him in his tight boxer briefs. 

You gave him a look that nearly had him falling to the floor as he moved forward and kneeled on the bed in front of you, making you crane your neck to be able to stare up at him. Your hands reach up and tug on the hair on the back of his neck, pulling his head down so his mouth could meet yours. 

Moaning quietly against his lips, you arch your back when you feel his hands slide up to unclasp your matching pink bra. He pulled it from your body, leaving you completely bare to his lust filled eyes. He let out a low growl as his hands slid back down to your hips. “Lay back, pretty girl,”

You oblige quickly, laying further up on the bed and resting against the soft pillows. “Please, Anakin,” you whined as he rubbed his still covered dick against your heat. “Fuck me.”

Anakin groaned as he shoved his boxers down, gripping your thighs and tugging them up until they were draped over his. “I’ll fuck you, baby,” he promised, running his tip over your wetness and coating himself in it. “I’ll fuck you so good, make sure everyone knows who made you come.”

“Fuck, yes,” you gasped just as he thrusted himself into you without warning, making you reach out to grip his forearms. Still on his knees, Anakin began fucking into you at a brutal pace, pouring all his leftover energy from the show into the way his hips hit yours. “God, yes.”

Anakin gripped your waist tightly, his eyes drifting from the way your breasts bounced with each thrust to your face as it twisted up in pleasure. “Say my name,” he demanded, burying himself to the brim and pausing there.

Your body tensed up, your stomach muscles flexing as he kept your hips pressed to his. “Anakin,”

“Louder,” he ordered, repeating the action. 

“Anakin!” You shouted, and it was followed by a string of moans as he resumed rocking his body against your own. “God, Anakin, you’re so deep. So deep in me.”

He grunted at your filthy words, the faint sound of the headboard hitting the wall making the whole scene look like it was straight out of a porno. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” he praised, reaching one hand up to pinch at your sensitive nipples. He felt you clench around him as he worked on hardening your peaks, his pace faltering just slightly at the tightness of your walls. “Always take me so well.”

“I love you, Anakin,” you whimpered, arching your back and pushing your chest up against his hand. 

He groaned at your sweet words, placing his hands flat against the comforter on either side of your head from where he knelt above you. “I love you so much,” he said back, speeding up his pace. “I’ve loved you for four years now, baby.”

“Nearly five,” you reminded him with a cry of pleasure. “We’ve been together for almost five years, Ani.”

“I know, princess,” he murmurs, leaning further down to press his lips to yours in a gentle kiss, a big contrast to the way his lower body was currently destroying yours. “How could I ever forget about the day you became mine?” 

“Best day of my life,” you mumbled when he leaned back again, digging his knees into the bed as he all but railed into you. “Fuck, you feel so good, Anakin.”

“You’re so tight,” he responded, making your stomach twist with a need to please him forever. You were vaguely aware of the loud smacking of the headboard now, and the way the picture that hung above the bed was tapping with each thrust of his hips. It only fueled your desire for him as your hands gripped the comforter once again. 

Your previous orgasm rendered you a bit more sensitive than normal, so you weren’t all that surprised to feel that knot begin to tighten once more. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come again,”

“Yeah? You’re going to come all over me again?” He mocked slightly, only making your head swim with dizziness at how dirty the whole event is. “I want it. Come all over me, pretty girl, nice and messy.”

Your eyes rolled back just a bit when he reached one hand up to press his fingers against the base of your neck. A strangled moan escaped you as you clenched helplessly around him.

You didn’t think you would ever get used to how he was in bed, versus how he  was out of it. He was sweet, kind and caring with you outside the bedroom, but inside it he was rough, loud and determined to get you off in any way he possibly could. The difference was almost too much to handle. 

A few more deep thrusts later and your core was flooding around him, noisily sucking him in deeper and alerting him of your second orgasm. “That’s it, baby,” he praised, watching as his dick became even more coated in your wetness. It spurred him to speed up the pace so he could reach his own release. “Good fucking girl.”

“Anakin,” you struggled to say as your body shook with overstimulation. “Ani, come, baby, please.”

It wasn’t the first time he had you begging him to come in you, but it still had his head going fuzzy for a second or two, as well as made him twitch inside you. “You want it?” He asked through a clenched jaw, his neck muscles straining as he tried to hold off for a little bit longer. 

“Yes,” you answered, powerless against his sharp thrusts as you took each one. “I want it so bad.”

“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his pace slowing down as his own release flooded through him. With a couple slow thrusts into your greedy core, he fucked his seed deep within you. 

He falls onto the bed next to you a few seconds later, his chest heaving and a light layer of sweat adorning his skin, mirroring the way he looked on stage an hour or so prior to this. 

Anakin was a lot more drained now than he was before, and he knew that if he were to stay in bed for much longer he would probably pass out with you wrapped in his arms. 

He lifted himself up and pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, murmuring an “I’ll be right back,” against it before he dressed himself in his shirt and jeans, grabbing the keycard on his way out to retrieve both yours and his bags from the bus. 

-

The next day, after spending most of the morning wrapped up in the sheets together, you and Anakin finally decided to get up. 

Kind of.

He was currently propped against the headboard, eating a piece of toast with you on his lap. His acoustic guitar he brought with him was placed in your lap as you softly ran your fingers against the strings, leaning back against his bare chest. You were nowhere near as talented as he is with the instrument, and you knew it would sound awful if you were to try and play it without his guidance. 

“Mm,” he hummed when you plucked one of the strings at his request, tossing the crust of the toast onto the plate that was next to him on the bed. He would usually be more careful so there wouldn’t be any crumbs in the sheets, but he was checking out of the hotel before tonight’s show, so he decided to leave it to the cleaning staff as he knew they would be washing the sheets anyway. “That’s the B string, baby, not the D string.”

“And I’m supposed to know that…how?” You asked as he wrapped his arms around your middle. 

“Well, I’ve only been playing guitar for the entire length of our relationship,” he teased as he placed his right hand over yours. He guided your thumb to one of the middle strings and gently brushed it against it. Of course, it sounded a lot better because he was the one who controlled how much pressure and the pace of your thumb against the string. “That’s the D string.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes at the cockiness in his voice as you strummed along the string again, this time sounding a bit better than before. 

“There you go,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as a reward. “That was good.”

You turn your head to give him a small glare. “You’ve never been a good liar,” you mutter. “Especially when it comes to lying to me, it’s why you could never get away with cheating.”

Anakin scoffed, “I would never,”

You shake your head with a dumb grin on your lips as he guides your fingers to strum the tune he had been going over in his head for the past few days. You let him take full control over the way he moved your fingers, noting the soft humming of an unfamiliar song leaving the back of his throat. “New song, Ani?” 

He shrugged from his spot behind you, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, your tank top doing very little to cover your skin from him. “Maybe,” he answers as he begins to kiss up your neck, not even needing to look down at the strings to be able to play them perfectly. 

It made you a bit lightheaded, how hot and talented he truly is. “What’s it going to be about?” You ask, eyes glued to the way he effortlessly helped you play the guitar while also holding a conversation with you. His talent always surprised you, despite knowing early on how skilled he is with the instrument. 

“You, obviously,” he replied and you rolled your eyes. “What else would I write a song about?”

“You’re too much,” you say and he laughs quietly, agreeing with you as he goes back to mumbling potential lyrics in your ear. 

A few hours go by and it’s nearing the time for Anakin and the band to head onto stage. He smoothes out his graphic tee and smirks at the way you cowered behind the large speaker, eyeing him with your lip caught between your teeth. 

“God, Ani, you look good,”

“Me?” He asked and reached his hand out to you, pulling you into his arms once you took it. He played with the end of your pink and white skirt, eye fucking you a mere few minutes before he had to go perform in front of thousands of people. “I bet Vin and Theo are so jealous that it was me who got to take you to bed last night, in an actual room.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his shoulders, gazing up at him. “I bet all your fans are jealous that it’s going to be me who gets you all to herself after the show,”

Anakin hummed lowly, pressing a kiss to the skin under your ear. “I’d be jealous, too, if the hottest girl took me home,” he rasped. “Or in our case, took me back to that stupid bus.”

You laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. Since you had applied a cute pink lip to go with your skirt, a stain was left on his skin when you pulled away. “Oh, sorry,” you say and lift your hand up, but pause when his fingers wrap around your wrist. 

“Don’t you dare try to wipe that off,” he ordered with a smirk. “I think it completes my look.”

And it really did. A black snapback was placed backwards on his head, a vintage shirt covered his chest and exposed his sleeve of tattoos, dark jeans with a few chains connected to the belt loops hugged his legs, and black boots gave him the daunting appearance of someone who was born to be on stage. 

The pink lipstick mark only added to the whole thing.

“Okay,” you swallow harshly, stepping away once Vinny handed him his guitar. “Have a good show.”

“I love you,” he called out as he placed the strap over his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

When he made his grand entrance, the crowd seemed even louder than normal, and you could only hope at least some of them were able to see your mark on his cheek as you hid behind the speaker and watched your boyfriend get lost in his element.

-

Series based off this fic

[angelicsoka]

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

GRAY'S MASTERLIST *ೃ༄

GUIDELINES!

PROMPTS

❦ - FLUFF / ☽ - ANGST / ♡ - MISCELLANEOUS / 𖦹 - POPULAR / ♚ - PERSONAL FAVORITES / ✉ - REQUESTED / ✶ - READ TW! / 𐙚 - SMUT

*ೃ༄ HOCKEY

SARA, luke hughes | ☽ ♚ ✶

-> SUMMARY! luke’s girlfriend has suffered in silence for too long, and luke noticed the warning signs too late  

YOU'RE SOMEBODY ELSE, hughes brothers | ☽ 𖦹 ♚ ✶

-> SUMMARY! the youngest hughes sibling is slowly becoming someone she can’t recognize

LITTLE TALKS, trevor zegras | ☽ ❦ ✉ ✶

-> SUMMARY! the youngest hughes sibling begins to amend her relationships

ROMEO & JULIET, luke hughes | ❦ 𖦹 ♚

-> SUMMARY! in which trevor zegras finds out who his sister has been fooling around with, and he isn’t very happy.

EXPOSED, jamie drysdale | ❦ ♡ ♚ 𖦹

-> SUMMARY! in which the hughes brothers walk into their younger sister's apartment to discover something shocking.

IDIOT, luke hughes | ❦ ♡

-> SUMMARY! in which luke’s best friend is left broken hearted and with a family dinner she has no date to, so he decides to step up and help.

POSITIVE, jack hughes | ❦ ♡

-> SUMMARY! in which jack’s girlfriend has the best gift for valentines and jack couldn’t be more happy

BEAUTIFUL THINGS, luke hughes | ♡ ❦

-> SUMMARY! in which luke and his girlfriend announce to the world the secret they’ve been keeping

SEE YOU LATER, quinn hughes | ❦ ☽ ♚

-> SUMMARY! in which quinn and his high school sweetheart break up due to her fear of holding him back, only to meet again five years later.

BLIND DATE, jamie drysdale | ❦ ♡

-> SUMMARY! you were never one for dating, especially when trevor is the one setting them up. but one date can’t hurt, right?

LAZY (SICKLY) MORNINGS AND MARRIAGE PROPOSALS, quinn hughes | ❦ ♡

-> SUMMARY! where a common cold turns to the flu leaving quinn and his girlfriend to cancel their plans, leading to a lazy (sickly) valentines morning and a marriage proposal 

PROM NIGHT, luke hughes | ❦ ♡ ✉

-> SUMMARY! luke’s brothers notice his crush on his best friend

PERFECT, quinn hughes | ♡

-> SUMMARY! quinn realizes his girlfriend doesn't see herself the way he sees her.

THE MOVE, luke hughes | ❦ ♚ ✉

-> SUMMARY! its time for you to leave for college, and time for feelings to be revealed

TWO WORLDS, jamie drysdale | ❦ ♚ ✉

-> SUMMARY! jamie finally meets the reader’s daughter, isla, and he has just the right thing to prove him worthy of her trust

IN BETWEEN AU, luke hughes | ❦ ☽ ♡ ♚

-> SUMMARY! the story of luke hughes and ada "bubba" evans

*ೃ༄ STAR WARS

nothing to see here…

*ೃ༄ NCIS

nothing to see here…

*ೃ༄ SUPERNATURAL

nothing to see here…

*ೃ༄ CRIMINAL MINDS

nothing to see here…

*ೃ༄ TWISTERS

THE HAT RULE, tyler owens | ♚ 𐙚 ♡ 𖦹

-> SUMMARY! where tyler owens decides to show the reader what the hat rule is.

DISAPPROVAL, tyler owens | ☽ ♡

-> SUMMARY! in which javi disapproves of his sister’s relationship.

*ೃ༄ TOP GUN: MAVERICK

REAL GENTLEMAN, bradley bradshaw | ♡ ♚

-> SUMMARY!  in which jake’s sister goes on a bad date, and bradley decides to show her how a real gentleman acts.

LAST UPDATED ON OCTOBER 6TH, 2024

[nrdmssgs]

Sorry but I NEED a happy ending for Nikto and that reader. An AU, What If, whatever, but I need fluff and happiness

Pieces of them

Masterlist

Part 1

Pairing: Nikto x f reader Angst\comfort Reader goes KIA

Thank you @amongthe141 for encouraging me for writing more for this guy, thank you to a very dear @atenceladusiaawfytbwb for reminding me about this story. @iwanncry @bogboyfriendbreadslice @sinner-sinta loves, sorry for bothering you, but just in case, you wanted a happy ending - here it is.

"Are you out or not? I don't have all night!" She laughs.

Nikto doesn't like it when she laughs - it feels as if someone tickles him from the inside.

"Dumb ritual," he mutters, taking a step outside and facing dark night skies.

"Anything, I come up with is dumb, of course." Her voice is calm and unbothered by his commentaries. "Now tell me, which one do you see?"

He lifts his head. Usually he manages to recognize two, or at best three, constellations. But today he is almost going blind from the brightness of the myriad stars. They are so large that it seems that he can reach some of them with his hand.

Niktos breath catches in his throat. Why didn't he notice this before? Why didn't he see all these stars hovering right above his head? The night sky became so wildly mesmerizing, since...

"Hello, it seems you are trying to reach me, while I'm deployed. Leave your message, and I'll call back after an ungodly amount of sleep, hot shower and a few decent meals. Bye!"

He winces. Just recently, she called him every evening and forced him to go outside before bed and tell her at least two constellations that he could see above his head. Recently. Or maybe it was a million years ago, in a past life? Or did this not happen at all? Maybe he made her up?

Nikto shakes his head. Her voice, pre-recorded for the inbox, is not a figment of his imagination. And this sky above is unusually bright, but still real. He raises his head, covers his mouth and howls in horror and pain.

***

The worst thing is that there's even no body left to bury. She was confirmed to be KIA, yet Nikto couldn't even say goodbye.

First he waited by her door. Like a dog on a leash. Scared and desperate. Like a beggar. Hopeless.

He wrote her, he wrote so much, but never got an answer. So Nikto ran away, not being able to spend one more night at her doorstep, waiting for nothing. Ever since, he was on the run, chasing the last traces of her. He barely slept or ate and just drove from one hospital to another, inspecting their list of deceived soldiers.

Nikto deserved that last goodbye. Even if her body was all deformed, even if there were just a few bones left - it was still better than chasing her pre-recorded voice every evening and suffocate himself to not howl at the moon.

His squadmates try to reach out to him, buts it's no use - Nikto ignores their calls and doesn't bother reading messages. He keeps chasing her ghost and that is all that matters.

Until one day he stumbles upon König himself at one of the hospitals. Nikto notices a printed list of names in his hand and pulls it harshly, almost tearing the paper apart.

"She's not there."

Nikto ignores Colonels words and goes through the list, quietly muttering names. Only to find out, that König is right.

A crumpled piece of paper flies into the wall, to the displeasure of the head nurse. The Colonel picks it up, carefully straightens it and places it back on the counter.

"We are not ok about her fate, just as you. We can search together, An-"

"Shut up! I'm not searching just for a squadmate, not trying to lighten my conscience! You don't know who she was! Even she didn't..." Nikto stops himself in the middle of the sentence. He knows, It's wrong to vent his anger to the Colonel, who did nothing wrong in the first place.

***

König starts sending Nikto strange addresses: they switch from military hospitals to the organizations helping war survivors. The search becomes much more complicated, because many people, who end up in such facilities, have no IDs. So Nikto has to visit each ward and have long talks with nurses.

It drains his last bits of energy, so when he hears 'we actually have someone fitting your description', he doesn't even react right away. Nikto nods automatically, stands up and stops only at the doors.

"Wait, there is someone?" He rushes back and nearly knocks the nurse over.

Grabbing her hands, he barely whispers 'please, let me see, just one glance, please' with his white, dry lips.

He expects to be escorted to the basement, where the morgue is usually located, but is taken to the common room. A few people slowly walk along it with absolutely lost faces. But Nikto doesn’t look at them - his gaze rests on the painfully familiar profile. Her face.

Eyes tired and faded. Her skin is pale, her hair is very short, and there is a long and voluminous scar on the head. Nikto notices that she is shaking.

“She’s cold. Do you have warmer clothes or a blanket here? I’ll pay for anything!” He turns and meets the sympathetic gaze of the nurse. Irritated, he knocks on the glass door. Several people turn to look at him, but she doesn't pay any attention.

"Sir, I'm afraid you don't quite understand the situation correctly. She experienced clinical death, woke up from a coma. These tremors are not from the cold." After these words, Nikto already feels his hands getting colder.

He begs the nurse to let them speak. "A minute, just a minute!" But she leads him away from the room.

"Sir, she needs to be prepared for any meeting. Meanwhile, we will need some documentary evidence of your affiliation. We have to protect our patients from any illegal encounters."

For a split second Nikto imagines, how long would it take him to push her to any room on their way and block the door, so he can run back. But he shakes his head, banishing the mental image.

He patiently listens and even writes down, what documents he has to provide. He covers his own mouth, when the voices inside line up in the choir, asking him to scream.

***

Nikto fights for a single chance to talk to her, as if his life depends on it: despite his anger, he contacts König, asks for a help with forging required papers, he takes his own meds religiously, fearing to harm her otherwise.

He counts minutes, till he can hold her hand, just make sure, it is really her. Alive.

When he is finally allowed to talk to her - the nurse asks Nikto to wait, while she makes sure, the patient is ready. He stands awkwardly in the doorway, as the nurse sits on the bed next to her and tells her something softly.

In a few minutes she nods and the nurse walks past Nikto. "No sudden moves, keep your voice down. She gets scared easily. There will be personnel right behind her door," she whispers and leaves them alone.

Nikto walks around the bed and finally sees her: a mere shadow of a warrior, an almost lifeless shell, curled up, hugging her knees. Words roll up in a lump in his throat, and he just descends on his knees, trying to meet her lost gaze.

At first, she hides her eyes, as if not looking at him would make him not existing in her world. Nikto cant believe, this is all that left of the smiling, lively, skillful amazing her. His hand raises to the huge, ugly scar on her head automatically, but she catches him and shakes her head in a silent plea.

"Of course. I-I`m sorry, I won't touch... Of course, I won't. I'm so sorry." His voice is just a tad louder than a whisper.

Feeling, that his voice is shaking, Nikto takes a deep breath and looks her in the eyes. He wants to tell her so much, every cell in his body begs to hold her, cover her with a blanket, warm her. But he knows better than to stress her with too much information or questions or contact. He's been reading days and nights now about her current state. That's why Nikto just sits before her, staring into her face.

She reaches out to his cheeks, and he wakes from his stupor.

"My face must be scary. I brought a mask, but they said, it might scare you even more." Nikto shows her the mask, but she pushes it away and rests her hands on his face. It's only when her fingers touch his skin - he realizes, his cheeks, chin and neck are wet with tears.

He tries to get a grip on himself, but her touch crushes the last bit of self-control, he had. Tears keep running down his face as she cups it with all the care of this world.

"They will come. They will come. They will come. They will come." At first, he doesn't make anything from the words, leaving her lips. He is so shocked by her tenderness, that he is afraid to move or talk back.

She brings him closer and closer, until she hugs Nikto, clinging to him desperately and repeating 'they will come'. Only when her face hides on his shoulder, Nikto masters a simple question.

"Who will come? You're waiting for someone?"

She keeps muttering the same mantra, but points at a bed drawer. Nikto hesitates for a few long minutes, not wanting to scare her off by a sudden movement.

He reaches out and opens the drawer, which appears to be full of... pieces of paper. He hugs her back with one hand and takes a handful of pieces with the other.

Several pieces of paper fall to the floor with a dry rustle. Nikto squints his eyes at the remaining pieces of paper and freezes. A star map. Torn into tiny pieces. Their nightly ritual has survived everything - even death.

Maybe she didn’t remember him, maybe she didn’t remember what exactly they did in the evenings, but this starry sky, even in the form of a map, remained with her as small pieces of hope. Pieces from which she assembled him and herself.

Nikto opens his palm, letting the remaining paper fall on the ground, and hugs her with both hands finally. He finally finds the right words for her.

"We've come for you, love."

[draco-dormiens]

FOR ALL THAT IS RIGHT AND JUST - Flashback

auror!draco x auror!fem!slytherin reader / post-war au

warnings: strong language, angst, implied mental struggles, negative self deprecation, alcohol use, mild descriptions of wounds

wc: 2162

tags: @yeolsbubbles @send-me-styles @shinytalent @malfoylover4l

tag list open!!

masterlist

Draco's Story

Late July, 1998

"I've decided, Dray." Your voice is soft but laced with determination. He sits beside you, on the roof of his parents mansion, the window to his room just below your dangling feet, a cool night breeze licking his skin as the July heat still lingers in the air. "I'm going to become an Auror. After everything I've seen, after uncle Travers..." you pause for a long moment, staring up into the dark navy sky, dotted with glimmering white specs where, thousands and thousands of lightyears away, stars burn; big, bright, dazzling orbs, "I can't let it happen again. I can't allow other children to go through what we have, what you have. Even if it just a small change, I want to help make it."

He's silent for while. The bottle of Fire Whiskey you'd both been sipping on rests just between his knees. Bringing it to his lips, he takes a long drink before setting it back down. There are bruises on his knuckles, cuts on his arms, a nice gash to his forehead from where he'd managed to make contact with the floor outside of the Room of Requirement. If not for the boy he'd spent the last seven years envying with a seething jealousy, he would no doubt be dead. He owed Harry and his friends his life, and that, although a cold hard fact, did not settle well in the young Malfoy's stomach. He was bitter, scarred, and lost. Where did he go from here? All he had come to know, everything his parents had made him believe, was nothing but blind faith and complete ignorance.

Once a bully, preying on the weak and snarling insults at those he deemed lesser. Once a boy of great talent and expectations. Once the seeker for his house. Then a Death Eater, a coward and no better than those who tore the school to pieces.

He was no better, and he was no one. Not anymore; but he feels now, despite his prejudice over the years, that he wasn't really anyone to begin with. When the mark, that now is nothing but an ugly scar on his milky skin, was first placed upon his arm, he really had believed he was to be granted power and protection. All he had to do to bring his family glory was follow instructions. He thought he wanted this. He thought he was doing his parents proud. When he realised his misjudgment, it was far too late to change his mind.

Draco tried to murder. He tried to - but as much as he told himself it was his duty, the small flicker of who he really wanted to be started to burn a little brighter, a little hotter, until he smothered the flame and hexed Katie Bell and cast an unforgivable curse on Madame Rosmerta. Until he was face to face with his one mission, just to fail at the very last second and become the laughing stock of a group of rotten-minded wizards.

He can still hear you - sometimes in his sleep, sometimes when he wakes in the night.

"Please, just tell me what's wrong, Dray." You cried in the hallway that night, his wand tight in his grip. The sound of a happy, joyful Slug Club Christmas party was well underway further down the corridor. You, in your stunning emerald dress and diamond earrings he had gifted you the other year for your birthday, had begged him to confide in you multiple times. Daphne had written him off, Blaise and Theo told you he had changed and wasn't coming back. Pansy had a small amount of faith left, but it was fading quickly. Your sixth year was already turning out to be a monstrosity, and now the boy you would have called your very best friend had changed; he wasn't Draco anymore, he was colder, more bitter and worryingly paler. Albeit, his personality wasn't the warmest nore the most endearing to begin with, but since your childhood he had been a constant in your life.

And now he was anything but that.

"I've already told you," he says, lifeless and empty, "I don't want you getting caught up in anything. Just go back to the party, alright?"

"Why are you shutting me out?" You almost whimper, and the white knuckle grip on his wand only gets tighter, threatening to snap the wood in half. He hates this. He hates it.

But he must do it. To protect what he cares for.

"Please," he mutters helplessly, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder at you. He fears if he looks at you fully, he might crumble into a million little pieces, "I'm trying to protect you. Let me at least do that. Please. Go back inside."

"Draco?" Your voices brings him out of his daze, his eyes landing on yours. A kindness had dwelled within them since you were children; a kindness that, even after all he's done, still shines through and touches his skin like warm sun. He stares back for a long while, not fully understanding why you still came to visit him. More than two months since the war ended, since his family faced trial after trial and escaped with their dignity hanging by a mere thread. He hadn't heard from the others; Blaise, Pansy, Goyle. Not that he particularly cared. It appeared they would have rather saved what reputation they had left than mingle with fellow betrayers like himself.

He can't say he blames them.

"Are you okay?" you ask him, brushing some of his white-blond hair from his face, "you can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you."

"Why?" he simply asks, and you almost look surprised at the question.

"Because you're still you, Dray," you whisper, a ghost of a smile at your lips, "many things have happened. I know now why you couldn't talk to me about... well, everything. But you can now, and I'm here to listen. Please, don't try and battle this on your own."

The warm summer air ruffles the hair around your familiar, comforting face. He thinks that someone up there might not think so bad of him, to keep you coming back even when he's troubled you more than anyone else. A slight smile cracks on his face, something you hadn't seen in many, many months. The sight of it almost brought you to tears.

"You know," he says quietly, "I'd have kicked my sorry ass to the curb if I were you. I haven't exactly been kind to you; or anyone, over the last few months. I've done some really fucked up shit. Yet, here you are, drinking my Dad's Fire Whiskey on the roof with me." He shuffles a little closer to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders, as you willingly accept his embrace, cuddling into his warm and familiar body. You liked to believe he was still in there, the real Draco. The one that sometimes, unknowingly, allowed you to see little glimpses into his life. He's a collector of sorts; not like his father, but in a more sentimental and valuable way. Many a time have you caught him putting a rather nice looking pebble in his pocket, thinking no one had seen him take a shine to such a trivial thing. He enjoys the piano, and although he never plays for anyone, you had caught him mid song one summer during a visit to his home. You can still hear him scold you for sneaking up on him and making you swear not to tell anyone. He reads - not your typical story books or novels, but educational books about Astrology and Alchemy. Sometimes, when you had met in the library, he'd been so invested in a book, his eyebrows pierced together and a look of pure concentration on his face, that he hadn't noticed you standing beside him until you nudged him slightly. Another scolding, but something about the way he grumbled that he was 'just passing the time because you took so long' had you convinced there was no malice in it whatsoever.

Draco never had a heart of gold. He was never a shining example of friendship, or the best at expressing his feelings, or had the best attitude towards things he found unbefitting of him. Throughout the years you had argued about his mean streak, about his nature towards certain students, but as if joined at the hip, you had remained close, and his brashness was ever so slightly tamer with you. His words weren't as sharp, or as jarring, and he often made a point of saying 'if you go, I will' or 'as long as you think so.' Despite his blooming admiration for you, he still remained a little hesitant to treat you completely different.

And he was still in there. You were sure of it. He was in there - the Draco you had come to love.

"I wouldn't be a very good friend if I did that, would I?" you say lightheartedly, and you feel him squeeze you a little tighter, "you will get passed this Draco. You will heal; inside and out, and you will go out into the world and make a good name for yourself. You will make yourself proud - it doesn't matter about anyone else. Just do what's right for you."

He ponders for a moment, stroking your hair gently, calming himself as he leans his chin on the top of your head. The world made no sense; his place in it seemed none existent, but as if a small glimmer of hope had pierced his heart, he starts imagining the future.

"Do you think they'd have me?" He then asks you, and you pull back slightly to look up at him.

"Who?" You say.

"The Aurors," he then responds, matter of fact, "do you think they'd... accept someone like me."

"You want to be an Auror?" You say excitedly, and his heart, for the first time in a very long time, begins to feel lighter at the look on your face. All this time and you're still the prettiest girl he'd ever laid his eyes on. He shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno, I was just thinking out loud," he said, fingers still playing with the ends of your hair. Then he laughs, a shallow and bitter laugh, "like they'd want me. Imagine me showing up to help someone - they'd asked for someone else. It'd be fucking joke."

"It might not be," you say in all seriousness, "why does it have to be like that? As much as you may think things are set in stone, they are not, Draco. You decide how the future goes. You decide what happens from now on. If it starts that way then change their minds. Your past does not define you. It's what you do, how you learn, that does."

"Sure you don't want to be a therapist or something?" He jokes lightly, and you giggle. Draco truly believes that something holy keeps you around a mess like him. Once Voldemort's threat was over, you were the first person at his door. The first and only person to check on him. A ray of light in the deep, dark hole he was falling into.

"I've made up my mind," your giggle comes to a holt, and you look at him with a sheer determination sparkling in your eyes, "it's time for you to do the same, Dray."

The reception he received was nothing short of foul. Minister Shacklebolt treated him the same as any other new recruit, but his fellow Auror's did not feel so welcoming. He mainly stuck by you throughout the training phase, and kept his distance from Potter and Weasley. There were whispers, odd looks and uneasy feelings, but with your guidance, he found himself at the Ministry. After the first year, he had become accustomed to people's shock once they saw him, and even more so from how tolerable he can be when he wanted. Sometimes he even made little jokes about it, and your heart soared at the difference in him. The higher ups soon discovered his talents and willingness, and his career, much like your own, began to blossom.

So, when you barge into Potter's office ten years later, raging about the travesty in the foyer, he thanks Merlin, Salazar and anyone who'll listen when you grace him with that same presence he finds himself missing like a limb when you're not around. An Auror in his own right, a gifted and talented wizard who's knowledge in Occlumency had boded well in his profession, a better man, but still the same whiny, mischievous Malfoy he's always been. He may be a dashingly handsome young man, but his childish ways, short temper and bad attitude never quite left him - and yet he's your heart and solace all the same.

Harry may have saved his life, but without a shadow of a doubt, you saved his soul.

disclaimer: i do not own harry potter or any of the characters or storyline associated with it

[pampanope]

Hello, how are you doing? I’ve come with more questions >:3

1. Since cannonly Graves’ died in MW2, how is he alive? Did some cute girl/boy/enby necromance him or something? Or was it something more reasonable and realistic. Hell, was he even in the area when he was supposedly killed.

2. Is MW3 cannon in the ShadowDadlderverse? I hear it’s really really bad and not many or everyone considers it to be not cannon. This question goes hand in hand with the former

3. How did Graves’ feel when he realized that his dad wasn’t a hero? Did his finding out happen to coincide with Bell? Or is Graves still blind to what Addler did to Bell?

4. Since the Shadows are notably close in their verse, they most likely have game night. What games and movies do they play while together? What games and movies are banned?

5. Since I cannot go five questions without asking about fantasy and dnd, what would Graves character sheet look like? Class, race, backstory, spells, weapons, etc.

6. why is last name Graves? Is it his mother’s last name? Does like 7-11 call him Phillip A. Grave when pissed or something?(i definitely need to dig into the gas station man)

7. What is relationship with Laswell? And maybe if you’re feeling extra extra dangerous, maybe say what you picture Laswell’s wife to look like.

8. Also how old do you think Graves is? He can easily be seen as like 25-41. Or how old you think he is in your Au?

I know I am definitely asking some pretty deepish questions when it comes to your Au, but I like to learn. I especially like to learn about characters. And since your interpretation of Graves’ is currently scratching the itch I am internally inclined to ask these questions.

Stay safe!

Okaay here i gooo

1. I rly believe that tank was an unmanned vehicle that Graves controlled remotely while Soap ran around frantically XD hurling insults and a Shadow thumping him on the shoulder when he got carried away.

2. The only canon a peel off of mw3 and slap onto the Shadowdadler verse is that Makky is at large and Graves flew off into the sunset|

3. It depends on how he found out. If Graves knew what his father did at an early age, it’s be less of a shock. If Adler was honest about why a masked man was lurking somewhere nearby, told his son that he hurt one person for the sake of millions, it’d be better than if he tried to hide his actions. It wouldn’t surprise me if adult Graves grew to have a similar mentality as his father.

4. Game night’s full of multiplayer games (snash bros, mario party, MvC, etc). There’s a DnD session off to a corner. Ruined jenga towers litter the floor. A circle if Shadows play charades. Monopoly is DEFINITELY banned, too many fights break out. Any high shakes gambling on card games is also prohibited (there Shadows who are talented at card counting and sleight of hand). Any and all genres of movies are watches, with the exception of the Star Wars sequels. Those are unanimously banned.

5. I’d die if Graves was still the leader of a mercenary group but classed as a bard XD high charisma definitely. Still human. Idk enough about DnD as a whole to say what spells he’s gonna use but I like ghe idea of him boosting his part members that do the fighting

6. Ok so in one of my Dadler comics, Adler fights off and kills enemy agents that wanna target him and lil Phillip. He buries them in their backyard. Phillip learns one day that there are dead bodies there. Learns that they had to die for him to keep living. He’s looking at graves. The memory would stick with him. Lol 7-11 calls Graves Sir when the commanders being stubborn ir reckless 🤣 (funny, the Lt. can be just as stubborn and reckless)

7. Oh! I like her and the role she plays. I liked the sneaky sneaky part she had~ Her wife? I picture her a bit taller than Laswell. She’d be a brunette, soft featured, a bit tanned, down to earth and honest about her thoughts and feelings, something Laswell appreciates as someone used to subterfuge.

8. I got Graves at a solid 40. A tiny bit seasoned to be out in the field, but still young enough to be effective. He ages gracefully 🥰 hehehe

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 ꒱ 심재윤

summary : you can't tell the difference between love and war, and your boyfriend's sleep-talking only confirms what you knew you were heading full-speed towards

genre : angst tws : language, angst, implied cheating, implied asshole!jake, non-idol!au author notes : i love writing sad stuff too bad so sad word count : 1.7k

the air was stale; moving only when the man who slept peacefully next to me would stir. he was so far on the edge of the bed, i feared that a couple more tosses and he'd become acquainted with the floor. however, right now it was difficult for me to find a care in the world with a piercing knife through my heart. but, i'd been kissing it's blunt edge for a while, and it's only a matter of time before it was sharpened and plunged straight through my chest.

i wanted to be shocked, say it was a blindspot i forgot to check before merging, yet it seemed i needed him more than he ever needed me.

the memories i'd one day have to learn to live without clung to my head, spinning it with the ceiling fan i couldn't tear my eyes from. the air was hard to breathe, thick with a suffocating smog as the name rolled so effortlessly off his tongue.

as if he couldn't twist the knife lodged so deeply and hurt me any more: it wasn't my name he slept-talked. it wasn't me who roamed his dreamland. i wasn't the one he promised eternity to — not truly, and it sent a poison straight up my veins.

i felt stupid to believe such a naive thought; to believe in him. i turned a blind-eye to the red-flags i swore i could bleach. for so long, i wondered if there would ever be a silver-lining to the misery i found myself knee-deep in. however, i think i always knew in the back of my mind that people don't change just because you want them to.

and what i wanted was forever while he only wanted a year-long one night stand; a body to crawl back and into whenever he pleased.

i felt conflicted as the pictures flashed behind my eyes. i couldn't have always been his second-choice, but maybe suffering was easier than facing the truth. maybe, in reality, love could be too red — or on the other hand, it wasn't love at all. 

i felt homesick — or perhaps it was just sick. maybe i had painted him so well in a facade i forgot who he even was to begin with. he was apathetic in a dream-state, and i wondered if that would change if he was awake. if he could see my bloodshot eyes, would he even give half a fuck in my direction?

i hate to think it, but were the words he said even really meant for me? were the i love you's just to keep me from saying goodbye? my stomach twisted like a stormy-ocean and i felt a tear escape the side of my eye, rolling down my cheek and finding place against the sheets.

he knew me, all of me. every inch of myself has been on display and i wondered if he even liked what he saw — if he even saw me to begin with. i couldn't help but feel like i was strung up and toyed with for his personal gain.

and then, he said it again.

i wondered if the name was asleep right now, meeting him just as he was her. or if she laid awake and pleaded to the moon for myself to be out of the picture.

i feared in the coming sunrise her lucky-star would die and grant the wish.

my nails dug into my palms, leaving little crescents that reflected the moon that lit the room so dimly. it was hard to believe that our rainbow hadn't just been a bunch of beige shades he pretended to like.

he turned over and i wondered if he'd even reach out to me if i wasn't between his sheets. there must've been something wrong with me for him to only truly be my lover when the lights were off. and i didn't want a lover in the night. i wanted to call him mine, have him say it back and mean it. i couldn't just pretend like i didn't know this day would come, but nonetheless, it didn't stop me from feeling like a participation trophy he was embarrassed to show-off.

i feared his price of love was too high a price to pay, and the hardest part of gambling is knowing when to fold — when you've lost the game you keep rolling the dice to.

reluctantly, i sat up and dipped the bed, not realizing how drenched in sweat the anxiety had made me. the room seemed to darken when his unconscious state blurred between it and the tears that flooded my eyes.

a groggy voice sliced through the hair-raising silence, "y/n?" i was bleeding out, and the blood was all over his hands.

"where are you go — a-are you crying?"

i wanted to feign ignorance, say that i had a bad dream, but this nightmare — hell — wasn't worth killing my reality over. any longer and, i'm sure, the only way i'd make it out is in a bodybag.

but, would that really be so bad?

desperately, i wanted him to follow me throughout his apartment, put his shoes on and run out into the rain after me. read my mind and beg for forgiveness. tell me i had the wrong idea, and was stupidly imagining things. but, on the contrary, i've always been good at wishful thinking. actually, he probably thought he had me so tightly leashed that it wouldn't be the last time i found myself in his bed. but, the rain only soaked one of us and i couldn't face the image of looking back and it being a shut door. still, i couldn't stop myself and that's when i broke down, knees buckling from under me, splashing against the puddle and seeping through my — his — clothes.

the worst part? i didn't even hate him for it.

i was so addicted to the drug running through my veins that i'd have done almost anything to get my fix. he was a vice — a bad habit i know i needed rehab for.

and, maybe that's why the fantasy of leaving never happened. maybe that's why i was sat against the sheets, completely dry, staring doe-eyed at the man who had me so tightly chained in his closet of bodies.

i know i can't help if he meets someone better suited to him, but i also couldn't help the tide pulling me under with the current of despair.

as much as i had feared the betrayal, i think i already knew the answer to the questions that danced around me like ghosts. he was the love of my life, but i was only a love in his; something disposable the moment he saw a shiny and new pearl necklace.

he mumbled through a groggy accent, “y/n, what’s up? it’s late, let’s not do this now.”

he left a bitter taste in my mouth; a pretty venom he spit with every word, with or without realization. he should’ve cared that his girlfriend was crying, but it only really mattered if it interrupted his time away from me — his time with her.

he was everything i'd ever needed at the end of everything. earlier, if i was to go i would've, easily, been contempt. he was my life-support and now he was pulling the plug. but, is it truly better to die by the hands of someone you love? i guess, in reality, i knew the answer, living lifelessly for someone else all this time. i suppose, maybe, it was better than dying lonely because, at least it was him that would be my undoing. at least, it was his face, voice, and touch that would linger in whatever afterlife seemed fit.

and it seemed that though our love had died, i just couldn’t hold the funeral and call it a memorial. i wanted to celebrate our life, but i can’t help but feel like it had slipped through my fingers like it was just air to begin with.

he was all i’ve ever wanted. all i ever knew. but now it was dawning on me that all i’ve ever craved was fake — and i’ll admit, for some time i was okay loving that lie. i was okay being too you and dumb to know what love even was, but that was before i fell for him. that was before he was the only thing that consistently crossed my mind — day, night, afternoon, dawn — he was the only person who had infiltrated every part of me and maybe, at the end of the day, i liked the pretty poison running through me, because if i was only his lover in the night now, at least i was still his lover.

i chewed my lip, "i'm fine." i mumbled, crumpling the duvet over my legs. those damned words were a lie i got used to saying and he got used to hearing — believing. it was better this way; to fein ignorance and tell fables to each other like bedtime stories, like if we said them enough they would become true.

i knew how much more i could take, and even though he's done something that for anyone else would be unforgivable, i wasn't swayed hard enough to hate him. and i, truthfully, don't know why. but the way his arms felt around me, or the way that he, despite not loving me, knew me so fucking well told me through the noise in my head that i wasn't ready to go. i didn't know how to be on my own, and i just wished he felt the same somewhere deep down. but the despised voices are loud, and i also know that if i stay, he will be the death of me. my peace of mind was fleeting. i wanted to hate him — i wanted to hate the continuous circle that kept me coming back like clockwork.

i wondered if after a blissful year the name he wanted so bad would feel the same. i wondered if we'd eventually board the same boat and sink as i am now. truthfully, i wondered a lot, and jake was no short of non-answered questions. he was a mystery i spent my time trying to solve, despite coming up short of evidence. he was a pretty crier, and an even prettier liar. he was everything i ever needed at the end of my world. the sun i orbited — the saturn to the rings i spun for him.

but, even i knew there was nothing left to decode anymore. he was always just a window i refused to look through. he dug my grave, and now we had to lie in it.

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[foundress0fnothing]

I write (slowly) for a lot of ships. Stars next to completed fics. All links are for AO3!

and kisses are a better fate than wisdom (Nessian)

Feyre drags her sisters to Medieval Times to ogle the hot king. Nesta drags Emerie and Gwyn to Medieval Times for support and hater solidarity. And maybe to ogle some hot knights.

leave a kiss but in the cup (Nessian)

Cassian gets roped into helping organize Rhys and Feyre’s wedding when, on a whim, the two decide to throw it at the winery in the small town where the brothers all grew up. The problem? He has to work with Feyre's older sister, Nesta. And she hates him.

Darling, I Would Do It Again (Feysand)***

Looking to rebuild her self-esteem after a messy breakup, Feyre takes Mor up on her suggestion to visit a lingerie store.

what lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why (Elucien)***

Elain and Lucien make a bargain. When it's time to call it in, however, neither of them remembers what it is—or that they made one at all.

whistles far and wee (Feysand)***

When Tamlin refuses to pay him, the Piper decides to collect his payment himself. That payment? Tamlin’s intended. Lured into the depths of the Court of Nightmares, Feyre soon learns what is expected of the Piper’s possessions. A pied piper feysand two-shot.

A Mind of Winter (Gwynriel)***

Stuck together in a cabin on Solstice after a training exercise gone wrong, Azriel decides to help Gwyn celebrate the holiday even when they're away from their friends and family in Velaris. As they cobble together a Solstice celebration, marking what traditions they can and creating their own, what else might the spies discover on the shortest night of the year?

more thicker than forget (Azris)

Azriel Moreno and Eris Vanserra are both young literary scholars working to make a name for themselves in academia. After a disastrous conference, a lost job opportunity, and a messy one night stand, the two part and move on with their lives, only to find themselves forced to work together on a project years later.

Both Forever and Rather Die (Elucien)***

Elain runs a sex cult. She’s looking for something new. Lucien is new.

Firm and Fragrant Still the Brambleberries (Nessian)***

When Nesta became a nurse at the start of the war, she could not have predicted a patient as challenging as Lieutenant Cassian Davies, nor he a nurse as captivating as her. As the same war that brought them together threatens to tear them apart, Nesta and Cassian must navigate the complexities of love and duty to find the way back to each other. A WWI historical AU.

Sweet Secret (Feysand) (on hiatus)

Feyre and Rhys make a bargain. One pledges love and provision, the other love and secrecy. But what happens when the demands of a human court threaten their promises? Is love enough? What does one owe to another after a promise is broken? Based on Marie de France's 12th-century Breton Lai, Lanval

ACOTAR Writing Circle 2 Fics (all completed)

Meet Me in the Woods Tonight (Azris): Part 2 by @fieldofdaisiies and Part 3 by @vulpes-fennec

Forced to partner together during their company's annual team building event in the Illyrian forest, Azriel Moreno and Eris Vanserra find themselves an unlikely duo. When Eris suggests straying off the marked paths through the forest to beat the other competitors, Azriel reluctantly agrees. Eris was an eagle scout after all---what's the worst that could happen?

Double Blind (Gwynriel) Part 1 by @hlizr50 and Part 3 by @shadowisles-writes

Gwyn and Azriel have both been set up on blind dates by their friends. When they confide in each other, each one desperately hopes that the other might object. But neither of them are willing to stand between the person they care about and their potential happiness. Luckily their friends aren't nearly as blind as the Valkyrie and the Spymaster.

When It Rains (Gwynriel) Part 1 by headcanonheadcase and Part 2 by @sunshinebingo

Gwyn and her friends just arrived at their favorite camping spot. Although everyone is eager for a little rest and relaxation, Feyre advises that they 'work first, play later' and get the site set up before they all head down to the lake. Cassian is working on putting Gwyn's tent up when he accidentally pokes a hole in the side with one of the poles. Gwyn insists that it will be fine, but with rain in the forecast, will she be able to keep dry? Or will she need to seek alternate shelter?

[lesbianslvt666]

scarlett sun

Demigod!Ellie x Human!reader

The song of Achilles x the first disciple inspired au!

Angst?

cw: major character death, Mentions of gore and war

Ellie never thought about you the way she thought about her path. Obscure thoughts of greatness came like crashing waves on the tormented ocean.

She knew she ought to become more than her mare physical form, she wasn’t like no other human, she was better than them, still, she thought of you as the brightest light in her life.

A light that sent to sleep years of growing pain, years of loneliness. You were the only one for her, greater than the sea, brighter than the sun.

Her only love.

Ever.

But she couldn’t just let it go, the screams of the people, cheering for her after winning the battle, after ending the lives of those who never stood a chance on her presence.

Your heart aching with the same passion her own carried, her fiery veins carried blue blood that came with incredible strength, the fastest state of being, efficient enough for battle.

You loaded the aftermath of those nights. Painful aches all over her, for she had still a human like body, her virtues hurt her bones, teared her flesh and stretched to brake her muscles, there was no way around, everything need a valance and for her, that was pain.

She killed with awareness her mind chased down, crimson mirrors of blood, pools she entered knowing damn well what she was there for.

And damn her for she didn’t wanted to hurt.

Nor them

Nor her.

But mostly not you.

Never the less, the thirst for applause was greater than the torture it meant. Praises of her name rushed to her head, drugging all capabilities of stopping, not turning back.

And so you conform to the agony of seeing her like that, she won't stop.

she can't.

too stubborn to think of herself like the saviour of this people, and even if the tales told her story as the glory of a girl who fought till they win, the end didn’t end with her being praised, the prophecy talked about her clock worked death, chaos and blood would fall heavy and hot upon the ones who spilled crimson tears to each other.

And sorrow would follow her tortured lover.

Her glory would follow after her agonising decay, no human would ever be able to feel that much hurt in such long time, and to purify her for her sins, to sit on the throne above humans, she would endure it.

Her only regret.

She has to lose you, her only, her everything, she was going to give you up.

And you knew.

And she was aware that you did.

But why was you still here with her, mending her wounds, taking her seemingly fragile body in your worked hands, curing her the way only you could.

She hated how much you loved her, how passionately, an intensity that mirrored her own.

But how come a human can feel this deep? This desperately? This immensely?

The intensity of you roaring heart burnt her every time she thought of the end, your blazing love powered by a blinding admiration and understanding, you both lost everyone but yourselves, however, Ellie still found the joy in the blaring people.

And if it wasn't for the fact that you are always there, she would've already choose them.

She would've chosen the earthly glory.

Thankfully you never left, to her dismay, she was horrified for what she would make you go through, but when you hold her like she was all it ever existed, the answer to all unknown, the reality written in the stars she felt real.

She felt human

And when you kiss her like she means more than her future, like she is completely and only ever your lover, her hands can't keep to herself.

She is always eager to return the effort you give her, wondering hands and igniting chests, booming against each other for any ounce of friction.

And in the love filled nights she would only ever think of you, you on her mind, creating only thoughts of you.

It was her favourite moments.

But happiness don’t last forever, and as the sun emerged with her orange colours that tinted all around, so did the ground beneath, red hues crowned the white sand underneath.

When your eyes opened wide in fear for the screams that encountered the heavy scarlet droplets of an unexpected battle.

Ellie was already out.

And so you adorned your body in fabric, no time to protect you with an outside shell.

You ran outside, for something told you this was the end.

And maybe if you could chase her down, scape down the rivers and head to the north.

Hell you might as well scape earth, you would try.

But she won't follow, you thought that the physical scape could free her from a spiritual realm.

And you almost had her, you really did, wide eyes of surprise lightened you with bright desire from the deepest parts of yourself to her.

Like extending her fire to you.

But that fire was choked down, like a wild animal strangled by a boa, your lungs gave in the pain.

A striking force from behind your back revealed a blade as long as an arm.

The sword cut your flesh so easily like a dagger on paper.

And even if she had unhuman abilities, her running to you wasn’t fast enough.

Your life was draining out of you, like a fast poison purring in your veins, it ached your body in ways you had never felt.

But it wasn’t the blade that was tormenting your chest, it was her eyes, her agitated state to get as fast to you as she could.

But she never did.

She almost felt the warm of your skin leaving behind a grey ghost of your body.

But she couldn’t even touch you for the last time.

They took her first, and left you behind by the sea shore.

Salty water claiming your body.

Salty tears exasperating the wrath Ellie had become.

And when she felt you gone.

When the sea took you in peace…

Like you were theirs.

And not hers…

[theatlasenigma]

based on this denholm brothers/pirates smp god au (go check it out before you read this, otherwise my writing will make no sense whatsoever lmao) by @sweetsmalldog, which has had me in an absolute chokehold for the last day or so since i discovered it. so here, have this quick writing dump because i needed to get it out of my system.

imagine the detached and vengeful sun god in the aftermath of the mortal denholm brothers’ deaths. the sun god, furious at the injustice and cruelty, stepping forth to unleash all hell on these vile mortals who so callously slaughtered their children in the hopes of becoming famous themselves. except he falters, because the pair of too-still bodies before him are so agonisingly small, so painfully young, so devoid of life. in a split second decision, he imbues them with a fragment of his own divinity. and so ruby red becomes gold, and so the the sickly sweetness of ichor mixes with the salt of iron in the heavy air.

imagine the regal and proud sun god falling to his knees before the now godly twins, pulling them into an embrace that smells of the warm sea breeze, the hot wood of a ship’s deck under the sun, the sweetness of ripe fruits in the height of summer. whispered i’m sorries, you didn’t deserve this, if i had known i would have saved you, would have stopped the people who did this to you. the stifled hiccupping sobs of two brothers who, even after death and then ascension, are still afraid of what this adult will do if they show too much of their emotions. tears and snot stain his shirt but he finds he does not care. he has a thousand shirts but only this one moment and these two children.

imagine the harsh and distant sun god teaching the brothers the ways of godhood. how to stretch their wings and soar, how to bless without burning themselves up in exchange, how to give and delight and laugh. some day he will have to teach them how to take and how to punish but for now they are two brothers amongst the stars and they play and fly and run and they have never been so free.

imagine the indifferent and brutal sun god learning how to care for these godlings he took under his not-so-metaphorical wings. he finds that gentle words and reassuring warmth do not come so easily to him, a creature of pure blinding light and raw blazing heat, and so as the brothers learn to stretch and grow he learns to listen and love. and on those nights when acho wakes up screaming, or those days where scott can barely stomach leaving the safety of his room, the sun god is there to hold them close and whisper sweet nothings to them until their tears dry up and fear-frozen bodies relax. 

imagine the divine and powerful sun god, watching over the antics of the children he saved. though if what he did really can be considered ‘saving’ is a question he will lie awake for hours racking his brain for the answer to. he and the brothers will be joined by more, a clever daemon with skin like blood and claws of pitch that feigns indifference, a cunning explorer with a silver tongue and eyes like sunsets who strains for freedom, a war-like but steadfast woman who shouts and laughs almost as loudly as the twins. when the orange-eyed adventurer makes a jibe about the star-spattered lines across their necks and the sun god sees both stiffen in discomfort, he sends a flick of fire in the unruly god’s direction to discipline him. when the soot-stained war goddess shouts loudly enough to make acho or scott flinch, the sun god is there to provide reassurance and remind the woman to heed the boys’ fear. when the pitch-robed god of monsters play-fights too roughly and ichor is spilled, the sun god bandages the injuries and gives the daemon a stern warning to take care. 

they may have their occasional clashes, but they are freed from the shackles of mortality now and spread their wings in a palace amongst the stars. and if legend tells of a pair of boys who haunt the town where they were slaughtered like sacrificial lambs, well, they might occasionally pay a visit to remind the residents of those stories and their worth. tell tales of childlike laughter carried on the breeze, a flash of red hair, a flutter of wings and too-sharp teeth, lest you be lost to the depths like the parents of those starshine children so long ago.

[vodika-vibes]

So, because I'm me, I'm thinking of a Star Wars AU. And this is really just going to be a train of thought writing thing.

So, Ahsoka is 14 years old, and she has recently become Anakin's Padawan, and she's not sure.

She's not.

It's nothing against Anakin, it's just that he's very...young. And very male. And very human.

And so very young.

So when she returns from her first mission, and has her first lessong with Skyguy (He had the men shoot at her and her head kinda hurts still and her hands won't stop shaking but that's normal, right?) She makes her way to the archives.

She finds the old mission records and she reads through her Master's missions, missions he took as a padawan...and quickly determined that his mission load was boring.

So she starts reading about Master Obi-Wan's missions.

She reads about Bandomeer. She reads about Melida/Daan. She reads about the two years on Mandalore.

And she's like, "Huh, I guess it could be worse." And then she puts everything away and carries on.

Her first night back at the temple, in a room in an apartment shared with Master Kenobi and Skyguy, was rough.

She never had a hard time sleeping in the temple before, but everything ached, and she had a blinding headache behind her eyes, and she just can't stop shaking now that she's not moving -

So Ahsoka climbs out of bed to curl up on the couch.

It's obvious to her that Skyguy isn't here, but Master Kenobi is awake and sipping tea in the kitchen, so she joins him.

He's nice. Soothing. His presence feels like water rippling over her, and it's enough that she accepts his offer of tea.

And, while they sipped their tea and got to know each other, Ahsoka lets slip the training she had that day and how she feels awful still, and how she can't stop shaking.

And Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi drops his mug and stares at her in abject horror.

She makes a weak joke about how it could be worse, but it doesn't wipe the look off his face, and when he draws her into a tight hug, his force presence washing through her in the way that her old creche master used to do the same thing, she sniffles and she buries her face in his shoulder and starts to cry.

She knows, deep inside, that what happened was wrong, and the fact that he agrees is enough for her to agree to an immediate trip to the halls of healing.

Personally, I think this would have changed everything. But I'm tired and can't quite think it all the way through.

[happyhauntt]

prologue, the burning sky — star wars.

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: prologue; the burning sky. some tragedies will always happen, like a story you've always been unable to rewrite. but you still try.

─── warnings: star wars au, canon divergent. character death, vehicle accidents, blood & injury (nondescriptive), child loss, grieving.

─── notes: this is the prologue to a series i'll be posting following my ocs. this is a whole rewrite of the star wars sequel trilogy featuring ocs and focusing largely on family, grief, what you would do / how far you would go for family, haunting the narrative. the whole point of this story is family. are there love interests?? yes. but the core of it is 'what would you for / because of family?' you don't have to like this, but if i receive any rude feedback i'll just block you because the star wars fandom already fuckin terrifies me, let me just post my sad shit.

─── word count: 2.5k.

━━  the beginning.

     The sun rises, as it always does, a burning orb cresting over the horizon, painting streaks of pink across the silvery sky. Dawn leaks in through the windows of a newly-broken home, reaching across the room with long yellow fingers to raise a house full of heartache.

     Dory wakes with itchy, saltwater eyes.

     For a moment, she wonders why the skin around her eyes feels tight and sore, her nostrils stinging. She winces as the sunlight bleeds through the blinds, casting the room in a happy yellow glow. Her stomach twists violently as she remembers what happened the night before, each painful memory crashing back into her mind; bile burns the back of her throat, and she has to choke it back down.

     A sob racks her shoulders, sudden and vicious. She presses a hand to her mouth, trying to keep it in as tears rise in her eyes again, blurring her bedroom into one sun-drenched mess.

     Something heavy lays curled at the foot of her bed. Blinking her tears away, she peers over the edge of the covers, finding her younger cousin Marya sleeping there. She must've crept in in the middle of the night.

     Gently, she nudges Mare, and the younger girl stirs. Dory pulls back the covers and pats the space beside her. Blonde hair stuck to her face, mascara smudged beneath her eyes, Mare pushes herself up onto her elbows and crawls into bed beside her cousin. Dory pulls the blankets back up over their heads, and wraps her arms around Mare, pulling her cousin as close as she can.

     "My room was too quiet," Mare whispers into the fabric of Dory's shirt, fingers curled and clinging tightly to it. "I wanted to stay up to hear any news, but I couldn't stay in there."

     "That's alright." Dory's voice comes out cracked; she runs her fingers through the tangled strands of her cousin's hair, trying not to wince as Mare hugs her, pressing into the bruises that are spread across Dory's torso like a gruesome abstract painting.

     She has never been the most affectionate person, not even to her own sister  ━  but things can change in the blink of an eye, and people get lost when you thought they would live forever, and things bleed when they aren't supposed to, and Dory just wants to hold onto Mare for as long as she can before she has to let go again, no matter the pain it causes.

     "Mum hasn't slept, has she, Mare?" asks Dory.

     Mare shakes her head a little. "Not since I last checked. She was sitting in the kitchen when I left my room earlier... my mum was sitting with her. Uncle Luke went to be with mama in case something happened with Rion, and I don't think they've come back yet..."

     Dory swallows at the mention of her other cousin.

     When she stumbled in last night, stained with blood and reeking of smoke, with Mare hanging onto her arm, her father had folded them both into his arms. He'd sat with her as she screamed and raged for hours, held her when she sobbed until there were no tears left, and never said a word.

     No one else had been there waiting for them; her mother had gone straight to the medical centre with Aunt Ashka and Aunt Leia when she heard what happened, and only returned in the early hours of the morning, pale as a ghost and clinging to Ashka as if she were the only thing keeping her standing.

     Dory had never seen her parents like that before. Yve Cybele was the strongest woman in the galaxy, and Han Solo was always smiling, laughing as if everything were easy.

     Last night, though, Dory watched her mother shatter into a million pieces, and her father had no way of pressing them back together again.

     Last night, her sister died.

     When Dory closes her eyes against the sunlight, it all comes back to her in sharp, jarring flashes.

     She recalls the events leading up to the accident with perfect clarity; she, her parents and her little sister, Clarya, had come to visit their family for a month, as they had done every year for as long as Dory could remember. The visit, at least, had gone reasonably smoothly  ━  she always worried about growing apart from her cousins, when they spent so much of the year on separate ends of the galaxy. She and Rion, especially; Rion had been absent their last few visits, training at their uncle's re-established Jedi temple, and this was the first she and Clarya had seen him in such a long time.

     But it had been fine. Clarya and Marya, both fourteen, had stuck together like glue from the moment they arrived. Dory and Rion, too, had gotten over their initial awkwardness and bonded once more. Rion, one year younger than Dory at seventeen, had delighted in showing off all the things he'd learned at the temple. Clarya had laughed and wished she was Force-sensitive, and Rion had lifted her in the air, saying that flying was far better than being a Jedi, anyways.

     Last night, Clarya had wanted to go racing. Rion had a landspeeder he'd hardly had the opportunity to use since getting back from the temple, and Clarya desperately wanted to try it. She was their father's daughter entirely  ━  with the wind in her hair, she could do anything, be anything.

     And nobody had ever been able to say no to Clarya.

     Memories of the accident are more fractured, flashes of blinding light and sickening noise. Dory and Mare had gone along with their siblings, not wanting them to get into any trouble. Rion had been driving... too fast, Dory had thought, but she'd never been a thrill-seeker like her little sister, so she hadn't been too concerned.

     Until Rion lost control of the speeder.

     Dory woke up on the ground. Mare was screaming, covered in blood that didn't belong to her, clutching Rion to her chest. He'd been unconscious, too, the jagged cut across his head leaking crimson into his hair. The air crackled around them, heat from the speeder rolling over them in waves from where it lay burning nearby.

     Clarya had been lying next to Rion. Her eyes, wide and blue as the dusk sky above them, stared blankly at nothing at all. She'd been impossibly pale, her leg bent at a strange angle, her hair stained pink. Dory had dragged herself over there, an unbearable pain digging claws into her chest, and only after a moment had she realised that her sister was dead.

     Mare holds tighter to her now. It is too warm beneath the blankets, and her lungs ache for fresh air, but salty tears flow silently down her cheeks and Dory cannot bear to face a world without her sister in it.

     "Where's dad?" she asks, careful to hold her voice steady, so she doesn't upset Mare anymore than she has to. Last night, Dory had been a howling beast, pounding fists against her father's chest, a cataclysmic explosion barely-contained within a fragile teenage girl.

     But Mare's brother, her closest and dearest friend, is still unconscious in the medical centre. The doctors fear he may never wake up. While the cruellest, most spiteful parts of Dory pray he never does  ━  he took her sister with his recklessness, and Dory has always seen the world in -black-and-white, and eye for an eye, his life for her sister's  ━  she knows it would destroy her aunts the same way it has destroyed her parents, left them a burnt-out wreck the same as the speeder that crashed.

     It would destroy Mare like it has destroyed her.

     Gently, Mare shrugs, sniffling. "He wasn't with Aunt Yve and mum. I think he left... Maybe to check on mama and Uncle Luke? I hope he comes back with news..."

     Dory has to fight to bite her tongue.

     Later, when the sun is higher in the sky and Dory is done being angry with it  ━  how dare you rise on such a dark day? she wants to spit at it, bloody fingernails grasping for the sky in a bid to tear it down  ━  she peels herself from her bed, showering away all the blood and smoke from the night before, though the pain remains.

     She passes the guest room her aunts had made up for Clarya during their stay. The door is cracked open a little, and peeking inside, she sees the room is exactly the way Clarya left it. Clothes strewn across the floor, a pile of her favourite books on her bedside table, the ones she brought just for this trip, in case Aunt Ashka and Aunt Leia didn't have any she wanted to read.

     Reaching out, she pulls the door closed sharply, as if she can trap her sister's ghost in there forever.

     Her mother and Aunt Ashka aren't in the kitchen, but the living area. Yve looks as if hell descended on her in the night, and left her nothing but a living corpse; her blonde hair, patches of silver creeping in at the roots, is a tangled mess, her eyes bloodshot. Ashka looks little better, her own blonde hair kept in a long braid thrown over her shoulder. She smiles at Dory as she enters the room.

     "Mare is sleeping in my room," says Dory quietly.

     Her aunt nods, hands folded carefully before her, every inch a politician. "I don't think she slept a wink all night, worrying about her brother."

     "I don't think any of us slept, really," Yve says. Dory's eyes dart to her mother, who pats her knee. Soundlessly, Dory pads across the room and curls up in her mother's lap, in a way she hasn't done since she was a little girl. Her mother wraps thin, strong arms around her, stroking her hair back and rocking her like she is a baby again, and Dory doesn't mind.

     Quiet sobs wrack her body as the tears flow once more. Her sister is dead. Sweet Clarya, her little sunshine sister, born in the summertime. She used to weave flowers in her hair and dance on the balcony when she could, and their father would let her stand on his toes even when she grew too old for it, just so he could hear his little girl laugh.

     Her sister wasn't an angel. Clarya could be a brat when she wanted to be, when she didn't get her way, but she was the brightest flame of them all, and in the end, she was only a flickering candle, snuffed out far too easily when she should have been a star, burning forever.

     Her mother is crying, too. Her tears flow into Dory's hair, making it damp, but she doesn't mind at all. There is enough ache here to drown the whole room, if they truly wanted to. Dory wants to open her veins and let it all spill out, let her ocean of hurt drown the world. She wants to take everyone down with her into this agony. She wants everyone is the galaxy to feel as awful as this.

     It was her fault.

     She should've tried harder to stop them going. Clarya wanted to go, and Rion wanted to show off for his cousins and sister, but Dory had known it was a bad idea and she'd let them do it anyway. She was the oldest. She should've stopped them. She should've known better. She should've told Rion to slow down, to stop...

     It's Rion's fault, too.

     "Have we heard anything?" she wonders aloud, her raw throat burning.

     There are a million other questions she'd rather ask. Like why did this happen, or how did this happen, or where has dad gone? All of them feel like ticking bombs, each designed to inflict maximum damage, so she sews them into the lining of her tongue and keeps quiet.

     Asking about Rion is normal, and safe, even if she doesn't care at all.

     Her mother's arms stiffen around her. Aunt Ashka frowns, the gentle lines of her face deepening slightly. When Dory looks properly, she sees her aunt's eyes are bloodshot, too, and there are dry tear tracks staining her cheeks. Her too-thin fingers weave together.

     "We didn't want to wake you," she says quietly, her gaze falling to the ground. Her shoulders droop slightly. "Leia called and told us about an hour ago... Rion woke up in the night."

     Dory swallows her bitterness like poison. It festers in her gut. She wanted him to die instead. If she could trade her life for her sister's, then she would, but she would trade Rion's first. Her cousin is lovely and good, and she hates him still for what he did. For what she let him do.

     It's his fault, and your fault, too.

     "Is he alright?"

     Ashka picks at a loose bit of skin on her thumb. She seems so unlike herself that Dory has to blink, in case she is dreaming. Her politician aunt, a former princess, married to another politician and former princess, has always been the smiling kind. Even so, Dory has always been able to pick out the similarities between Ashka and Yve, aside from their shared blonde hair and shining blue eyes.

     She sees the similarities in the harsh edge to their smiles, the mischievous glint in their eyes, the sadness that settled into their bones over thirty years ago which hasn't ever gone away. Ashka may be a politician, but she has always been easy-going in equal measure, determined to balance her stoic facade with something happier.

     Today, Dory isn't seeing Aunt Ashka. She is seeing Ashka Cybele, the politician, sharp-angled and cool, channelling her emotions into being someone else, to control the situation.

     "He's alive." Ashka offers a small, slightly-relieved smile, but Dory doesn't take the bait.

     "And?" There's something else. Dory can tell.

     Ashka hesitates for a moment, and then sighs. "He doesn't remember what happened. The accident. Or..." Her lower lip trembles. Something inside her breaks free, and a single tear rolls from her eyes and drips from her chin. She doesn't bother swatting it away.

     "Or anything at all."

     For Dory, her fragile world, held up with cracked pillars and broken columns, comes crashing down in that moment. Her damned cousin, Rion, who caused the accident and killed her sister, gets to blissfully forget about what he did. Her lovely cousin, Rion, whom she still loves because that's how awful the world is, gets to forget.

     And she has to remember.     If, in that moment, Dory had known what would come for them all  ━  what the memory of Clarya would make them become, how they would fill the void she left, how they would take the ache and learn to make it feel like home  ━  she would wish to forget, too.

[lyon-amore]

I'm obsessed with this AU, don't let anyone ever get it out of my head

    We had left the blinds down and the curtain drawn so that not a ray of sunlight could come through the window. We want to spend the morning in the room after the wonderful night.

    A night that I remember in detail and that my body has reacted to as if it were the first time. We fit together perfectly and Jake treated me very kindly, but I could tell that he knew what he had to do, just like me. But I didn't care, I didn't get jealous or sad. Especially when he asked me if it was what I wanted. I think I sounded desperate saying yes, because within a second we were already in bed.

    As we kiss, Jake’s fingers work me gently, causing me to let out small moans.     Just as I pull away to tell him I’m ready, there’s a knock at the door. I let out a groan, annoyed.

   “It will be Lian…” I answer, while trying to breathe calmly.

   "Did not you stay at that guy's house last night?" Jake asks me, and I can hear a little annoyance in his voice, also at the interruption.

   “But I told her that she forgot her bag at the bar and she replied that she would come and get it in the morning,” I slowly sit up, and he does the same.

    I get out of bed and the first thing I grab to get dressed is his shirt. It's too big for me, so I don't worry about putting anything else on.

   “I’ll be right back.” I lean in to kiss him and he pulls me closer, making it harder for me to want to leave. She knocks on the door again and I laugh. “She’s going to kill us if I don’t give it back to her.”

   “Pretend we are not here,” he answers, caressing my cheek while continuing to kiss me.

   “I'll open the door, give her the bag and close it,” I move away and slowly let go of his hand, “while... you watch warming up until I get back.”

   "I cannot if it is not with you," he answers me with shining eyes.

    I let out a little lovestruck giggle and walk further away to my bedroom door. I really can't believe how lucky I was to meet him.

    I grab the small bag from the counter in the entryway and open the door. To my surprise, it's not Lian.

   “Hello, honey,” my mother greets me and I see my father next to her.

   “Did you stay up all night?” my father asks me, arching an eyebrow.

    I stare at them, shocked. Great, my parents come over and I have my boyfriend in my room with no pants on.

   <<Oh shit… our pants…>>

    I remember the details of what we did, but not the fact that the pants and underwear were left in the living room.

   “Yes… I fell asleep a lot, a lot,” my brain is not working right now because I was thinking about going back to Jake. I need to get into strategist mode now! If my father finds out, he’ll kill him!

    My mother knows I'm dating a guy, but I haven't told my father yet because I wanted to see how the relationship progressed… And now that I think about it, it's come a long way for it to have been five days.

    “Wow, Star Wars?” My mother touches the shirt and I stop myself from getting nervous by trying to get it completely smooth.

    “I didn’t know you liked Star Wars…” my father puts his hands in his pants, examining me. “And it’s pretty big for you…”

   “I bought it because I needed a new nightgown,” I lean on the door frame, still not letting them in. “What are you doing here? And without warning?”

   “But yesterday we talked about coming to look for you and go see your family, remember?” My father examines me again, not as a father, but as a police officer. Something I don't like.

    I cover my neck a little with my hair, in case there are any marks. 

    In the end I step aside and let them pass.

   “We'll wait for you to get ready.” They come in and I see my father going straight to the couch.

   “No!” I shout nervously and they look at me surprised “Better... better on the chairs, it's just that last night I spilled the milk from dinner and it's disgusting and dirty, I have to clean them.”

    I quickly walk over and pick up the clothes to put them under the couch cushions, pretending to straighten them out. Although I do actually have to wash them after last night.

   "Do you want me to take off the covers and wash them?" my mother asks me.

   “No, I'll do it when I get back,” I stand up and point in the direction of my room. “I'm going to… shower and get dressed… that's it…”

    I run out, holding my shirt. This can't be happening today...

    When I walk in, Jake looks at me worried.

   “What happened?” He gets out of bed and approaches me “Are you okay?”

   "We have a big problem," I whisper, nervously.

   “Lian and that boy had a fight?” he whispers too, imitating my attitude.

   “Worse, my parents are here and your pants are keeping them company!”

    I see how he turns pale. He knows that my father still doesn't know about us because of the issue of taking things slow in our relationship. Because he met my last boyfriend and he didn't like him even though he was Stephan's friend. It is true that perhaps he was too "affectionate" with me in front of him. Making him uncomfortable. So I wanted to prepare him for the moment when he meets Jake and sees that he's not like Klaus, that he behaves in public and the only thing we usually do is hold hands and caress each other. Wanting to have that intimate contact only in public. Not like a certain person who put his hand on my thigh in front of my father. And very high up…

   “Okay, let us think calmly,” he places his hands on my shoulders and caresses me in circles with his thumbs, “What did you tell them?”

   “I was going to take a shower and get dressed…” I answer pointing to the door, the bathroom is next to my room.

   “Well, that's what you'll do,” I nod as he speaks, “don't worry, I won't leave here, so they won't know—”

    The door opens and I turn quickly, luckily blocking Jake's body.

   “By the waAAAAAAH…” my mother screams and brings her hand to her mouth, surprised.

    I feel Jake's hands tense on my shoulders, and I'm still keeping my shirt controlled to make sure it doesn't ride up because of that turn.

   “What's going on?!” my father shouts and comes in.

    I cover my face in shame, and not just because of that. It's just that Jake has stuck to me so much out of fear that I can feel his ENTIRE body against mine and my mind is mixing thoughts of this morning with thoughts of wanting to bury my head in the floor.

   “You…” I look at my father, who points almost accusingly at Jake, “Macie, what are you doing with this guy?”

    Part of me is surprised that I seem to know him, and worse, I don't seem to like him all that much.

   “Dad, I…”

    I see him looking at me with disappointment. It's the second time I've seen that look.

    We keep in silence in the room, and I bring my hand to my mouth to bite my nails, nervous.

   "My name is Jake Miller," I hear Jake finally say, "I would go say hello to you, Mr. Connors, but I cannot—"

   “Oh my God…” my father pinches the bridge of his nose, while my mother brings her hand to her mouth, watching him hide an amused smile, avoiding looking at us too much.

   “Listen, if Macie did not tell you, it was because she wanted us to take our relationship slowly so she could introduce me to her parents properly.”

   “And is there a reason you're not wearing any clothes?” It's clearly not a question that he doesn't know what happened, but rather he wants to know why he's not dressed if he knows they were here.

   “Well… this…”

   “The pants are on the couch…” I answer, closing my eyes tightly.

    I hear my father breathe almost angrily and I open one eye seeing him trying to calm down.

   “Honey, breathe,” my mother tells him, patting him on the chest, “your daughter is already an adult, don't exaggerate and act like a police officer.”

   “I know, I know,” he raises his hand, trying to relax, “I'll go outside and… let… them dress…”

    We nod and when my parents leave, Jake sits up in bed, breathing heavily and putting his hands on his head.

   “I'll go get your clothes and you can take a shower...” I tell him, stroking his hair.

    He nods and surprises me by hugging me, resting his head on my body. I smile and give him a kiss on the top of his head.

   "I will fix it," he says, looking up.

   “You have nothing to fix, he's exaggerating,” I give him a small kiss and separate. “I'll be back with your clothes in a moment.”

   “Alright…”

    I can see him thinking, with that pose of his hand on his chin. What is he up to?

    Once we were showered and dressed —Jake let me first, it wasn't the time to share a shower—, we sat with my parents in the chairs. Jake also knows that going to the couch is not a good idea.

   “How long have you been dating?” My father places his hands on the table, as if he were being questioned.

   “Dad…” I take a breath trying to relax, I don't want to fight with him.

   "Five days, sir," Jake replied calmly, looking at him somewhat nervously.

   “Five…” Dad puts his hand on his chest and I roll my eyes “Days?”

    I glance at Jake discreetly, noticing that his serious expression hasn't changed. Unlike me, who just wants my father to stop exaggerating, I'm not a little girl.

   “Studies? Work? Criminal record?” My father's aggressive way of asking appears and I put my hands on my head, even more embarrassed.

   “Herman! Please!” my mother shouts at him, offended as if he were the one asking her “Leave the boy alone—”

   “Classical language and literature,” I slowly look at Jake as he begins to speak, “I have a job, I am in charge of computer security and you know better than anyone that I have no criminal record,” my gaze moves from one to the other, they look at each other defiantly.

    Oh well, defiantly my father, Jake doesn’t even seem offended or angry by his questions.     I’m going to intervene, but Jake continues.

   “We may have only been together for five days, but I can assure you that your daughter is the most amazing and fascinating woman I have ever met,” My cheeks burn as I listen to him and see that his expression hasn’t changed yet. He doesn't even blush. He means it completely. He dares to speak to my father like that and he doesn't move even a bit.

    I see my mother smile sweetly and then look at my father, so that he understands the situation we are in.     I'm actually surprised, but I could say that I've felt the same way for a long time. Longer than he imagines, but I kept it to myself.     I take Jake's hand and he looks at me, smiling. Only five days, but... It feels like an eternity. I don't want to be apart from him... Ever. I may sound strange, but I want to be able to be with him always. If he allows me.

    My father sighs and taps his fingers on the table. His gaze still doesn't seem entirely convinced.

   “Very nice words, Miller, but knowing who you are, I'll be keeping a close eye on you and if you hurt my daughter, I'll arrest you without a second thought.”

   "I have no plans to harm your daughter," he squeezes my hand affectionately, interlacing our fingers. "You have my word that I will always take care of her."

    I blink, even more surprised than before. Isn't this going faster than it already was?     It's then that I see Jake realize what he said and get nervous, his cheeks also turn red.

   “I mean… As a boyfriend, of course, I am not asking for your daughter's hand, sir.”

   “And would it be so bad if you did? Would it be bad to marry her?” Dad's question makes him open and close his mouth several times.

    Now I'm the one squeezing his hand, to calm him down.

   "It's not that, dad," I answered, trying to save the situation, "we're just dating, and we don't even think about those things with how little time we have."

   "Well, from the way he spoke, he seemed very sure," my mother lets out a small laugh, looking at both of us.

    We both looked at each other shyly, but smiled. I really wanted to know what he must be thinking.

    My parents finally leave my apartment, waiting for me on the street to give us privacy to say goodbye.     I take the covers off the couch and drop them in the laundry bin, while I hear Jake washing the coffee cups. I told him it wasn't necessary, but he insisted. Sometimes I think he’s not real. How can he be so attentive?

    By the time we're done, I've already grabbed my jacket and bag and he's put his jacket on as well, leading us to the door.

   “Jake, I'm sorry about what happened with my father,” I apologize while playing with the keys in my hands, trying to calm myself down, "well, because of him and what happened, I really didn't want this to happen—"

   “Macie, calm down,” he takes my hands, trying to calm me down. He looks me in the eyes and smiles. “At least, since I met you, I am not getting bored,” He caresses the back of my hands with his thumbs. Little by little I relax, “with you every day is always something new and that is what I like about having met you.”

    I sigh and stand on my toes, pulling him towards me. Our lips meet and he places his hands on my back, holding me close to him. I wrap my arms around his neck, still smiling.     I get a text and we laugh, knowing it must be my dad waiting for me.

   "Today was like being in a romantic comedy movie," he laughs, amused.

   "Something we never expect to happen again," I wipe his lips with my thumb, I have painted them with my lipstick.

    He grabs my wrist and kisses my thumb. Should I really go? I'd spend the whole weekend with him.

    I hand Lian's bag to a neighbor and together with Jake, we walk away holding hands.     I notice how he caresses me carefully, I like this type of contact, feeling his skin this way, so delicate.     My parents' car is waiting right at the exit and I look at Jake with an apologetic look on my face. 

   "Try to behave yourself, don't let my father find out what you've done and arrest you," I joked as I fixed his jacket.

   "You know I behave well, I would never do anything that would get me into trouble," he fixes my hair, placing it behind my ears.

    And he does something that surprises me, as I had said, the only contact we have in public is holding hands so as not to make anyone uncomfortable, so his little kiss on my lips leaves me speechless.

   "And this?" I whisper, with a malicious smile. "You didn't do it to make my father angry, did you?" I glance furtively at the car.

   “Actually, it is because I have been thinking about how much I am going to miss you.”

    I laugh and gently brush his bangs aside lovingly.

   “Exaggerated… We can see each other tomorrow.”

   “I do not exaggerate when I like something, Macie Connors.”

   <<Yes, I'm going to tell them off for coming to my house and separating me from this amazing man for a day.>>

    But I may be exaggerating a bit, given that even though my parents live in the same city as me, because of my studies, I hardly see them and I see my friends more —and now, my boyfriend— than them.

   "Well, show me tomorrow, Jake Miller," I tap him on the nose, causing him to sigh.

    I walk away from him and wave goodbye, still smiling. He does the same and stays there watching us drive away, watching how he slowly disappears from my sight.

   "That boy seems to love you a lot," my mother comments, while I continue to look like a lovesick fool.

   "Yes, it seems so," I answer with a sigh.

    I try to think positively and that our future will be perfect. I would be afraid of losing him after having found him.

    Because what I feel is too strong. And I hope he feels the same way.

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

Sending a follower rec for WIP week! It's a star wars au where the author writes each chapter as if it's the next installment in a saga. It's got a lot of angst and worldbuilding and if you like star wars or sci-fi in general I would highly recommend it!

Duel of the Twins

by Theladyofravenclaw

T, WIP, 71k, Wangxian

Summary: A long time ago in a galaxy far far away... After growing up together at the Jedi temple on Coruscant Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng venture out on their own for the adventure of a lifetime. However, when an unknown threat and raging war looms overhead, the paths that they must take to protect those that they love will change the course of the galaxy forever. A tale of two brothers, bound by fate, to discover who they are and what destiny awaits. (or the "Wei Wuxian as a sith lord" fic that I've been craving for a while.)

@theladyofravenclaw

~*~

Hi. I would like to Follower Rec two stories for WIP week. The first is the unfished fourth story in a wonderful series. Glitterbombshell does an incredible job with characterisation and I who doesn't love teacher!WWX? @immoralq

Youth Is Sweet and They Are Growing

by Glitterbombshell

Not rated, WIP, 4k, Wangxian

Summary: It is not the first discussion conference that has been held since Jin Guangyao’s downfall, but it is the largest so far. And the first one since Wei Wuxian officially started teaching the Lan clan’s novices. In an effort to encourage inter-sect alliances and friendships among even the youngest disciples,a series of friendly skill demonstrations and competitions are held, with events for all ages to participate in. To the surprise of literally no one, the Jin sect children seem to come out of the womb puffed up on pride and thinking they’re at least a little bit better than everyone. Their novice disciples are no exception. The Jin novices’ first mistake was underestimating the Lan class because most of them are a few years younger than them. Their worst mistake was making disparaging remarks about their beloved Master Wei where Lan Xin could hear them.

~*~

This is the second rec. I love the idea of LWJ being forced into seclustion and then being rescued by A-Yuan, and it's written so well. Thank you! @immoralq

flower of justice

by neoncoin

T, WIP, 18k, Wangxian

Summary: Convinced his brother won't survive the punishment for disobeying the elders after Nightless City, Lan Xichen intervenes, and pleads insanity on Lan Wangji's behalf. A few years later, little A-Yuan makes friends with a strange man who lives in the Gentian House. (And a few years after that, Sizhui helps plot an escape attempt.)

~*~

One of time travel fic that i like. I like the interaction between WWX and other character and how WWX managed to make a new talisman by accident when he is blind

The Darkness Before Dawn

by PsycheStellata707

M, WIP, 113k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Ying remembers falling and a voice. “The price of seeing the future Is the ability to see the present” ... Or, another time travel-fix it where Wei Ying is given another chance to change destinies; but nothing comes free.

~*~

Also!

Modern Cultivation AU. Wei Ying gets tossed out of the Jiang sect after a night hunt goes bad. Cue Yu Ziyuan's terrible decisions. He lands with the Wen who of course are like ... No wait. Shit. He's a fucking genius!!

It's still in the ramp up but it has so much potential and I love a Meet Ugly. This has some top quality high grade LWJ sass, and classic WY and his absolute inability to see his own value.

The modern AU translation feels very plausible as well. Of course there'd be social channels dedicated to the wild stuff cultivators can do.

Anyway. Highly recommend! [I second this rec! It's a 💙 ~Mod Kay.]

Truth Will Out (when caught on video)

by KizuKatana

E, WIP, 63k, Wangxian

Summary: A night-hunt goes wrong, and Wei Wuxian is scapegoated for the death of the Jiang Sect Leader and the destroyed core of the Jiang Sect Heir. As punishment, his core is taken and given to Jiang Cheng, and he is stripped of his cultivation credentials and expelled from the sect. What everyone forgot was that Wei Wuxian was wearing the standard issue body camera that each cultivator wore on training missions and high-risk night-hunts. Struggling to make ends meet, Wei Wuxian finds his way to Caiyi Town with the doctor who performed the surgery, a partial core still secretly in place. His application to work at Cloud Recesses is summarily rejected by the hard-edged Second Jade of Lan after an unfortunate initial encounter. But things change when someone hacks into the Jiang systems and releases the footage of what happened. [First part of the title is a quote from Shakespeare, but this story is not based on that one!]

@kizukatana

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(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories)

[guupie]

Welcome to my masterlist…

Minors do not interact, most of my stories are abt Jungkook and they are 18+ and up…

“Shit go down while i hit it from behind.”

Fill Your Void | JJK

After a long day at your yoga classes you feel drained, but no need to worry, as always, Your beloved boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook is here to the rescue.

Genre: Dating au, boyfriend!Jk x Fem! Reader, smut, fluff.

Word count: 2.1k

Status: Completed…

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“Lies, tell me lies.”

Sweet Lies | JJK

Living a peaceful life without being in a relationship was something you was sure of. That is, until your ex shows up at your door almost at the ass crack of dawn. But it doesn’t matter to you, no matter how much you try. You can’t stop running back to him, you love him, he’s your ex boyfriend after all, right?

Genre: toxic, toxic relationship, ex boyfriend! Jk x fem! Reader, smut, manipulative.

Word count: 2.8k

Status: completed…

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“The shape of your body is blue.”

Cruel Summer | JJK

This is it, the summer you’ve been waiting for, a time of your life with family and friends. And a long-time crush you could only dream of being with, Jeon Jungkook.

Genre: Summer au, romance, fluff, smut, slice of life, teen drama, college boy x high school girl, childhood friends to lovers.

Word count: 3.1k

Status: ongoing, part two coming soon…

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“Boom clap, the sound of my heart.”

Our Lucky Stars | JJK

Fate seems to bring you and jungkook together, but it only brings tragedy when your cancer worsens, resulting the worst case scenario.

Genre: fluff, smut, drama, college au, sad romance.

Word count: 9.7k

Status: coming soon…

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“It’s our paradise, and it’s our war zone.”

Continuum | JJK

A socially awkward college student interviews the world’s most successful and handsome CEO named Jeon Jungkook, what could possibly go wrong?

Genre: smut, CEO! Jk x fem! Reader, erotic romance, agnst, thriller.

Word count: 16.7k

Status: coming soon…

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“We smoke trees in the back of the tour bus.”

Seoul Drift | JJK

One night, you go on a midnight walk to ease your mind but you stumble across a street race, and a dangerous criminal who’s wanted for murder, Jeon Jungkook. But you being blinded by the neon lights and the drifting cars, you fall right into the palm of his hands. Better hope you can free yourself before it’s to late.

Genre: Thriller, Racer! Jk x fem! Reader, smut, drama.

Word count: 10k

Status: Coming soon…

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“You look at me different, so I let you see my body.”

Gamers In Love | JJK

In which you move into an apartment next door to your new neighbor, everything turns out fine. That is until you find yourself knocking on his door a 12 pm at night since he’s disturbing your sleep, lucky for you, your neighbor knows what could put you right back to sleep.

Genre: Gamer boy! Jk x Gamer Girl! Fem Reader, smut.

Word count: 4k

Status: coming soon…

[seekforwarmth]

hello and welcome to this month’s fic rec featuring works that i’ve read and loved during the past weeks. as always, please check tags before reading. if you liked the fics please reblog their posts, leave kudos and write a nice comment. happy reading! 🔒 = only for ao3 users rec tag | more rec lists

— harry/louis —

໑ Do You See What I See by @allwaswell16 (T, 2k, acquaintances, veterinarian au, stray animals, vet louis) such a fun and sweet fic! Harry is so relatable because who wouldn’t want to see Dr Tomlinson as often as possible?

໑ If you like makin' love at midnight by Crlyhairedcunt / @larringiscaring (E, 2k, established relationship, domestic fluff) really cute story based on the “Piña Colada” song.

໑ Feeling, Fucking, and Falling in Love by imtiredanditswinter (NR, 2k, established relationship, historial au, pwp, read tags) i just want to make a disclaimer that even though the tags say “servant Harry”, it doesn’t mean there’s coercion for the things that happen between him and louis. having said that, this was very hot and if you enjoy smut with feelings, you’ll like this one.

໑ nights like these by localopa / @voulezloux (G, 3.7k, strangers to lovers, poor louis) this story has definitely give a new perspective (for me) to the song “Silver Tongues”. it’s so beautifully written and the angst is delicious.

໑ There's More Than Meets The Eye by @faithinwalls369 (NR, 4.5k, strangers to lovers, blind date, blindfold) such a sweet story abt a unique first date! the descriptions were so on point, and the characters were delightful!

໑ one chance (kiss him you fool) by localopa / @voulezloux (M, 5.5k, friends to lovers, 5+1 things, pining) this so fun and entertaining, and heartbreaking too with each time Louis’ intentions failed. i loved how the author portrayed Louis’ feelings.

໑ Hate is a Strong Word by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo (T, 8.7k, coworkers, hate to love, office au) this was so entertaining and funny! i feel like what made it better was to have both POVs. if you enjoy the coworkers trope, you’ll truly enjoy this one!

໑ I Still Crave It by @germericangirl (E, 16k, strangers to lovers, a/b/o au, chemist harry, scenting) this was so fun! i loved Louis’ obliviousness of his own feelings and the ending was very sweet.

໑ i’m still standing (after all this time) by localopa / @voulezloux (M, 22.5k, strangers to lovers, music industry au, pop punk louis, pop harry, read tags and author’s note) this was so painful to get through but i knew it would eventually get better. just bare in mind the tags please. over all, there were so great nizouis moments and the chemistry between Harry and Louis was through the roof.

໑ Somebody's Got Your Trainers On (It's You) by bluegreenish / @greenblueish (E, 28k, exes to lovers (kind of), hospital au, nurse louis, doctor harry, read tags and author’s note) i absolutely loved this rendition of “Saturdays”, it hurt just in the right ways and the conclusion of the story was better than i could’ve imagined.

໑ The Prince Of Light by @jacaranda-bloom (E, 35.7k, strangers to lovers, fantasy au, garden fairies, world building, mentions of war, read tags) i don’t know how to express what i feel about this fic because it’s so precious! it made me feel warm all over, and it made me feel like living in a magic world. if you like fantasy, you’ll love this one.

໑ Where I End and You Begin by @starryhazelou (E, 42.7k, strangers to lovers, famous/non-famous, rock star harry, mua louis, please read tags and author’s notes) absolutely fantastic from start to finish. the characterisations and the details on the timeline and outfits were perfect. the tension between Louis and Harry was driving me crazy, and then the angst… it was the kind that gives you a weird feeling in your stomach, it doesn’t hurt (at least to me) a lot but it’s there.

໑ Darkest Before the Dawn by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose (E, 50.5k, enemies to lovers, university au, fashion designer harry, fashion designer louis, grief, read tags and author’s note) this was quite the journey. the tension between the main characters felt so real but i think what i liked the most about this story is the talk about grief. it’s a very sincere and realistic piece of work so you should definitely check it out.

໑ And What If I Were You by @jacaranda-bloom (E, 110k, exes to lovers, famous/non-famous au, actor harry, artist louis, blind louis) if there’s one thing you can expect from this author is to end up with a little piece of her heart with each work, and this is no exception. the story was so well structured and you can see the world through Louis’ eyes even if it sounds crazy, but the best part is that you can also see it on Harry’s and you, as well as him, will realise how normal is not for everyone. the art for the fic is spectacular!

໑ Say It Somehow by frenchkiss / @lesbidirection (E, 129k, strangers to lovers, theatre au, actor louis, technician harry, musical references) i’m in love with this author’s writing. this fic felt like watching a show, it had everything and was very entertaining. the characters were so good to each other, but in a very human non-perfect way. and at the same time, the story explores what it’s like to work in theatre from someone with experience so if you like theatre AND you like love stories, you’ll love this one!

— rare pairs / categories —  

໑ We Can Enjoy It by @wemadethishome (zayn/liam, G, 715, established relationship, footballer liam, fluff) i sent a prompt to Hani abt these two playing fifa together and it was more than i could’ve expected! it’s so cute and soft, go check it out.

໑ The Full Carnival Experience by cherrylarry / @beelou (harry/luke hemmings, G, 2.4k, established relationship, carnival, fluff) this was so sweet and made me believe in the magic of carnivals again.

໑ The Gestalt of a Person by Stria (Asia117) / @nooradeservedbetter (zayn/niall, G, 2.5k, established relationship, character study, islam, homophobia) this was a beautiful story. i felt so much for Zayn, but i learned a lot through him.

໑ give me life, give me pain, give me myself again by thedeathchamber / @louehvolution (louis/joel miller, E, 2.9k, the last of us au, drama) Joel fans, you’ll love this. i don’t know much abt tlou but i felt like the vibes were amazing.

໑ the devil's backbone by edensrose / @holdingthornsandroses (louis/pedro pascal, M, 9.7k, enemies to friends to lovers, historical au (1925), violence) this was so good. this author is great with historical fics, and this was no exception! the story was so well detailed and it was written with great detail without overdoing it. there’s period typical violence and mentions of past relationships and abuse.

໑ 🔒 I Couldn't Write You Off If I Tried by @homosociallyyours (girl direction marcel/louis, M, 11.4k, strangers to lovers, accountant marcel, stripper louis, taxes) the only thing i can say for myself is that this is the first time i cry because of taxes. this was sweet, soft, and sexy.

໑ The Light Out In The Madness (Hold Tight) by @lalalaartje (niall/louis, E, 46.6k, roommates to lovers, uni au, fake pretend relationship, read tags) absolutely loved this story. i could experience the beginning of their friendship and how it kept growing and growing. the fic has so many iconic moments so make sure to check it out!

[thealphavoidofficial]

War Void refs + lore!

SAMS War Au belongs to @LunaticPal (YouTube) and @Kangaroo_Child (youtube)

⚠️TW: The following will include “Death, missing limbs, body horror, drugs”⚠️

Rebel Void: around the time where the rebellion first started, ever since Eclipse reset the world Void has shared a strong hatred for him.

They willingly follow Moon and Monty in the rebellion, and are incredibly loyal, however they do not show much emotion other then some rare cases.

Loyalist Void: during the events of the Wither Storm they were beheaded and killed by Eclipse on the battlefield, after the Wither Storm was sealed above the Clouds Eclipse, seeing some use for them, rebuilt them and brainwashed them, turning them into his Royal Jester.

Void seems childish and humorous on the outside, when in reality they are sadistic and is willing to do ANYTHING for their lord, including murder. They are always seen smiling in public, and only drop their smile when alone, enraged, embarrassed or shocked, which is VERY Rare, they rarely show their true emotions around people and keep any negative thoughts and feelings silent, their smile is often forced. They are close friends with Sun, and enjoy listening to his stories. Their favourite person to annoy is @TaffiBreadGremlin (YouTube) and has practically made it their mission to make her laugh, or at least crack a smile.

Pre-Future Void: during the Lunar Ball Void had not been informed that the drinks were drugged, like many other loyalists, however when they were about to drink they had witnessed their younger brother @jbmzanimates1477 (YouTube) collapse in front of them from the enclain, panicked they grabbed him and dragged him to their room, and stayed there the rest of the night.

After the events of the ball Void had started to question the Lord, and that’s when it started, Void had started to see a shadowy version of herself everywhere they went, and that’s when the purpled cracked appeared, they hid this from everyone, including @jbmzanimates1477 and @MeemawCrystal (YouTube), whom they trusted the most, They had eventually gone to see the lord about it, who reset her every time, but every time he did it only got worse, as if what ever was happening, what ever IT was, was FEEDING from the Stars power.

Eventually it got to the point where they had decided to sneak away, however they were caught by their brother, who begged them to stay, however Void eventually managed to convince him to let her go. @jbmzanimates1477 told Void that Eclipse would know they were missing, so Void had come up with a plan, they had ripped off the lower half of their right arm and given it to their Brother, telling him to show it to the lord and other loyalists and tell them that they had turned against them, and that he had to Kill her. And @jbmzanimates1477 reluctantly agreed, saying one last goodbye to Void before they left. And lucky for him, the others had believed his lie.

Future Void: Void corruption had eventually completely taken over, which restored all of their memories, in a blinding rage they sought to Kill Eclipse, and any other Loyalist that crosses their path, with only few being spared from their wrath.

Void is cold, sadistic, and hellbent during this point in time, their missing right arm has replaced itself with a long black claw, the purple cracks now covering their body clothing torn and 4 long barbed tendrils sprouted from their back, eyes now a piercing purple. They do not serve the Rebellion nor the Lord, and have gone neutral.