#Fox finding happiness even when he thinks that it's impossible for him

[varpusvaras]

Fox had dreamed about running in the forest many times.

The first dream he had ever had about towering trees and soft paths under his feet had been back on Kamino. He was pretty sure that it had been right after they had started their classes on different terrains, and something about forests and their green and earthy tones must've stuck into Fox's brain. He had dreamed about the sandy ground, the branches creating canopies and sunlight filtering through them here and there, showing him the way, as his legs would carry him faster and faster through the trees.

He had had that same dream on Coruscant as well, his mind transferring him somewhere else while he slept, far away from all the grey walls and hard streets and bright neon lights he saw his every waking moment. He had always been more rested after those nights, as the running had always felt more freeing than anything in those dreams, and not like every step was like running straight towards his own grave, as it had been when he was awake.

Neither Kamino or Coruscant had had forests.

Alderaan had. So, so many of them. There was one right outside the Palace, and Fox could see it every time he looked outside the window, the green treetops stretching all the way to the foot of the Aldera Mountains.

It was right there, for the first time in his life, and for the first time in his life, Fox wasn't required to spend every minute of his life working for the system that wanted him dead.

It was right there, just like in his dreams, and Fox couldn't run anymore.

His doctors had called him lucky. He had miracuously not suffered oxygen deprivation to his brain, as his men and Bail and whoever of the Alderaanian delegation that had been there had kept his lungs moving and heart beating for him, when his body had not been capable of doing so by itself. He had gotten the best medical attention there was probably available in all the Galaxy, reconnecting his body back together, healing an injury which for most of the people anywhere would've been an automatic death sentence. He had a team of dedicated medical personel, monitoring his every vital and putting hours of their own life just to make his better. He had a wife and a husband who would give him anything he could ever ask for. He had a child, a beautiful, smart, wonderful child, who looked at him with bright eyes and even brighter smiles and didn't care that Fox had failed in his life so, so many times already, before she had even been born.

He was lucky. Fox knew that. He had more than he ever deserved.

Still, he couldn't deny the bitterness he felt when he would look out of the windows and see the forest and be so painfully aware that his dream would probably never come true.

It was pessimistic to think so. Fox knew that as well. His doctors thought that he was doing fine. Better than anybody could've expected. He had gotten strength and motion back to his upper body, to a level that he could operate by himself, and his legs, no matter how much they still shook sometimes or how uncoordinated they were or how badly they ached afterwards for days, were able to carry his weight and move him forward. Slowly, and more often than not a little painfully, but he was walking again.

It wasn't out of the question that he could, someday, walk without much of an issue, and perhaps, if they managed to adjust the treatment even more and he kept up with his therapies and exercises, he could run. Maybe. Someday.

Despite being lucky and getting more than he ever deserved, Fox had learned not to hope too much a long, long time ago, and letting go of habits that had been violently taught to him was hard.

He still dreamed of running in the forest, but these days, the dreams felt more taunting than anything else. So felt the forest.

It felt so now too, as Fox stood outside, just a few meters away from the first trees, and watched as Leia toddled around on the soft ground, beneath the shadows of the longest branches.

Fox still enjoyed being outside, of course he did. On Kamino, being outside had meant getting drenched and cold. On Coruscant, being outside had meant getting tired and hurt. On Alderaan, being outside meant that he was getting clean air and warm sunlight and time with his family. Of course he enjoyed it.

He just couldn't quite shake the bitter mournfullness from his heart, no matter how much joy there was to push it away to the furthest corner.

He still smiled as he watched Leia run around freely. No matter what, his daughter didn't yet have the failures of his life dragging her down. No matter what, she was happy and free, and that really was all Fox could ever ask for.

Leia stumbled a little bit. Her legs were still uncoordinated as well, after all, as she had just gotten the hang of running. She fell down more often than not, and Fox admired the way she always just stood up and continued like nothing had happened. It had been encouraging, back when Fox had taken his first, shaky steps. Leia had learned how to walk a few steps without holding onto anything just a couple of weeks before, and had seemed extactic when Fox had followed suit.

Fox tried not to think about the fact that she was already faster than him.

He watched as Leia pushed herself up, pouted just a little, and then made her way towards him, her hands reaching for Fox from the moment she looked at him.

"What is it?" Fox asked. He took a few steps to meet her halfway. His legs felt good today. No aches before he got up, and he got them to point where he wanted to for once.

Leia grabbed his hand. Hers were still so small, not being able to even wrap around Fox's fingers all the way. She tugged at it a bit.

"Walk!" She said, smiling at Fox and looking at him expectantly. "Buir walk!"

She had started to speak more as well, lately, even if most of the time she was just using one or two words to order them around.

"I am walking", Fox said. Leia tugged his hand again. "Where are we walking?"

He let her tug him another step forward, and Leia let go of his hand with one of hers for a moment to point at the forest.

Fox looked at the trees. Green and beautiful, with golden sunlight reflecting on the leaves and filtering through the branches to the soft ground. He then turned to look at the few members of the Royal Guard, standing a few meters away from them. They were always there, if Fox was outside, with or without Leia, just in case Fox needed someone to help him.

He couldn't defend himself, after all. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"Captain", he called. "We're going to take a little walk."

The Captain nodded.

"Of course, Your Highness", he said. "Call us, if you need assistance."

"I will", Fox said, and then turned back to Leia. "Show Buir where to go."

He didn't need to tell Leia twice. She was more than happy to pull Fox along, towards the trees and then underneath them, to the little path that wound around the roots and deeper into the forest. Fox held onto Leia's little hand as they walked, the sandy ground giving gently beneath their feet.

Leia didn't run, or even try to. She kept walking, matching her steps to Fox's, and turning to look at him with a wide grin every time they took a step at the same time, and giggled when Fox smiled back at her.

It was quiet in the forest. There was a slight wind above them, shifting the shapes of light and shadows around them ever so slightly. There were still little sapplings pushing upwards from the ground, even though all the older trees had already gotten their leaves fully back. The ground was soft and the air smelled gently like the resin running lazily down on the frames of the evergreen trees, and Fox-

Fox felt just as free, like he had in all of his dreams, as he walked slowly among the trees, Leia's hand in his, both on their own feet.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Either college or old man Ford being with someone who, even after all the years theyve spent together, still looks at them like a lovesick puppy

like theyre blushing and getting flustered when he rests his hands on their waist or doing normal couple stuff, etc.

it's like their mind still doesn't register that they're together and instead, to cope, just proceeded to have the most down bad crush on their HUSBAND

(like that one reddit post LMAOO)

You knew that you were staring but you didn’t care, and you knew that Ford knew that you were staring and yet you didn’t care when the finest man in existence was before you and was also your husband?!

You still found it impossible to come to terms that this silver fox was yours forever and always, you still get flustered when he compliments you and your bed head, even more so when he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead.

You really shouldn’t be this badly affected after being with Ford for so long, but you couldn’t help it! Your husband was hot and you’d be blind to not take time out of your day to stare at him, shamelessly admiring his aging face and silver fluffy hair that looked like storm clouds! It was unfair that Ford looked so effortlessly beautiful no matter what he did that it left you swooning and pining after him like a lovesick fool, you’d find yourself asking if he was single…

Only to remember that you were married to him and got to see him be so effortlessly handsome every damn day of your life and you end up smiling stupidly.

‘You alright my love?’ Ford asked and you internally squealed like a little girl.

‘I am just perfectly fine my dear, just admiring my beautiful and talented and smart husband is all.’ You admitted also sheepishly as though you were confessing to him all over again as you felt the best rush to your cheeks and tips of your ears.

Ford smiled softly as he walked over to you and held your face in his hands, feeling the warmth radiation off of your cheeks as he caressed them; After all this time together Ford was aware of the fact he still held some power over you and he couldn’t help but feel flattered at how little had changed from then to now.

It was charming and sweet and kind of you to still look at him through the lens you did since your time at college together, he didn’t feel like he deserved it, but he knew that feeling would fade the moment he looked into your eyes and saw the abundance of love you held for him was still thriving and very much alive.

‘That is very sweet of you my dear,’ Ford said softly as he kissed your forehead, ‘you truly enlighten me with your love and affection that I can not thank you enough for marrying this old fool.’ He chuckled as he saw your eyes widened as though you still weren’t accustomed to the reality that you two were indeed married and have been for the past two months. Ford often wondered what what off in that head of yours but from the look within your eyes, he already knew his answer and couldn’t help but find it endearing.

‘I’d be the fool if I didn’t marry you Ford, even a bigger fool if I didn’t say anything back in college. I think I’d fight myself if i didn’t.’ You admitted as you thought of an alternate universe where you didn’t spill your guts to Ford back in college, you honestly didn’t want to think of where your life would’ve been like had you not married Ford as you were certain it was one full of regret and longing for what could’ve been. So you thanked god every night as you cuddled up to him in your shared bed that you got to live in a reality where you got Ford to be yous in every aspect possible.

Ford chuckled. ‘I highly doubt there is one where we don’t end up together my darling, and trust me I’ve been through the entire multiverse for the past thirty years.’ His eyes then soften as he rests his forehead against yours, causing your whole body to heat up at the action as you found yourself melting into him and his warmth. ‘I’m just happy that you were willing to wait so long for me. So, so happy.’ He adds in a whisper.

You nudged his noses with yours, flighting off the butterflies that were now within your stomach and running rampant at his words alone. ‘I would’ve waited far longer if needed just to see you home safe and sound.’ You told him as you kissed his nose and cheeks softly, happy to be in his arms and breath him in, content in knowing that he was here and that he was real unlike the dreams you had in the past. ‘So don’t thank me for doing something I would’ve done ten times over. You deserve as such Ford.’ You add as you pecked him lightly on the lips reassuringly.

‘Still I must thank my adorning wife/husband/spouse for being by my side when they had every right to walk away.’ Ford said as he tugged you closer to his chest, just innocently holding you in his arms lovingly but yet you couldn’t help but feel your heart hammer in your chest at being so close with him as you burrowed your face into his heck.

‘Your wife/husband/spouse is just happy to see you home where you’d belong with your family.’ You murmured again his red turtleneck, holding his waist tightly as you indulged in his comforting scent, something you loved about him that rivalled your love for his six fingers.

‘And I’m happy that I get the opportunity to call you my wife/husband/spouse.’ Ford admits as he kisses the top of your head before nuzzling his face into your neck, pressing a tender kiss there which made your breath hitch in your throat. ‘I love you my darling, so, so much.’ He whispers as though it was something that would only be shared between the two of you, like no one else is allowed to hear such talk between lovers and soulmates.

Your love for Ford was insurmountable, no words could properly describe just how much you love this man that you were more then willing to rip heaven and hell for, to rip through time and space just to see him home safe, anything if it meant seeing a man as sweet and loving as him smile that adorable smile of his in your direction.

You needed Ford like you needed air to breathe, water to drink and food to eat. Ford was a necessity for your survival and you weren’t going to let him go ever again, for you didn’t know how you’d be able to cope without him again.

Sure you might still have an embarrassingly massive crush on your husband, and become flustered every time he held your hand, kissed your forehead or even looked at you lovingly but you weren’t ashamed of it as it just meant that you were that your love rang true even after so long. If anything it meant that your love was stronger then most that fizzle out after a certain period of time, and yet you couldn’t help but smile stupidly and look away whether Ford complimented you or engulfed your hand with his own.

Ford was your best friend, husband and your crush all at the same time and you were more then happy to have finally gotten your happy ending with him, all the while staying perpetually in love with him regardless of the passage of time because Ford was so much more then your husband but he was massive part of yourself that you couldn’t live without nor intend to.

‘I love you so much my beloved Ford.’ You said as you rested your eyes and listened in on his strong heartbeat that told you he was alive as he held you tighter. ‘So very, very much.’

‘Then I hope you keep loving me for a long time.’ Ford confessed as he kissed your neck some more.

‘And I’ll promise to love you for an even longer amount of time after that.’ You admit as you moved your neck so that he’d have more access as you clutched onto him, smiling dopey as you felt as though you were on cloud nine within your husbands arms, blissed out of your mind as it ran rampant with ideas for the rest of your shared lives together.

[television-overload]

fate is the handspike

(an X-Files ficlet)

[Read on AO3]

Summary:

Starting on February 23, 1964, Teena Mulder begins to worry about her young son. At first, she thinks maybe he's wishing for a little sister, a wish that will be granted very soon. But he insists the little girl he talks to is called Dana, and she's too little to play, but she likes when he reads his books to her.

(fic below the cut)

i.

At first, Teena thinks it's cute.

"She's just a baby, mommy, she can't play yet," he'd say.

"Oh, is that right?" she'd reply, indulging him in his childish fantasies. Perhaps this was his way of asking for a sister. The other moms in the neighborhood often urged her to give Fox a sibling, citing a child's need for company and social engagement, but Fox had always seemed so happy to play alone. She's not on the best of terms with her husband at the moment, either, which complicates things.

But then there's times when she sees Fox on the floor, legs splayed out before him as he recites his favorite picture books to his imaginary friend, and she wonders if she ought to be worried. Just a little.

Dr. Seuss, Curious George, Clifford the Big Red Dog... The boy has a photographic memory. Though he's too young to properly read, he has a grasp on the basic plots and recounts them in great detail, turning the pages as he goes.

"This one is called 'Where the Wild Things Are,' Dana," he says, because his friend's name—he insists—is Dana. He turns the book in his hand and shows the colorful illustration on the cover to a patch of carpet on the living room floor. "Don't worry, it's not scary," he assures her. Her. It. Whatever it is he's spent his days talking to since late February.

When he tells the story, he uses his own name, instead of 'Max.' That's how she'd always read it to him, and that's the only way he knows.

"And Fox told the monsters to be still!" he narrates with enthusiasm. "He used a magic trick and looked right in their BIG yellow eyes, and they were all scared. They said Fox is the most wild thing of all, and they made him king!"

ii.

There was one night when she'd woken to find Fox standing in the corner of his room, speaking softly to the wall.

"Shh, it's okay, Dana," he soothed in his little voice. "Here, I'll sing you a song. Twinkle twinkle little star...."

She never tells Bill what she's seen. He's always too busy to notice himself. But others know.

"He's quite an imaginative young fellow," Spender notes, taking a draw from his cigarette as Fox rolls around in the grass outside the house in Quonochontaug. Since "Dana" learned to crawl, he's been even more preoccupied than usual. He shows her all his toys, tells her the names of all his action figures. He announces to his mother one day that he's going to teach Dana how to walk. That she can only stand on her own for a little bit right now, but she doesn't cry anymore when she falls down.

Bill, if he ever catches wind of this, must think he's talking about one of the other kids from Teena's ladies' group. But there's no "Dana" in this neighborhood. Not on the Vineyard, either. She's checked.

iii.

The day she finds out she's pregnant, a part of her wonders. Though her knowledge of her husband's work is small, she knows enough to gather that things she might have thought impossible, could in fact be possible. Perhaps her son had been having visions of his baby sister, long before she was even conceived. Maybe it had simply been a sign that he would one day be a big brother. Soon.

She'd long since dispelled thoughts of ghosts and hauntings and exorcisms.

He tells Dana all about the baby in mommy's tummy. He giggles and makes silly faces, pausing in between sentences, which she gathers must mean his friend has developed the ability to speak.

"Mommy, she said my name! That's right! Fox! Fox!"

iv.

When Samantha is born, "Dana" seems to disappear overnight. This, at least, supports her theory that he had simply been preparing himself for a new sibling, and after a few years, she's completely dismissed the issue. Fox shows no other signs of strange or unusual behavior. He is nothing but a doting big brother, who occasionally gets annoyed by his freckle-faced kid sister, as any brother is wont to do. He reads to her, plays games with her, watches the television with her. They're two peas in a pod, and not once does the name "Dana" escape his lips. She is all but forgotten.

Until he's twelve years old. Samantha is gone, and Teena lacks the patience to deal with his questioning.

"Mom? Does the name 'Dana' mean anything to you?" he asks.

"What? Of course not, Fox, why would you ask such a thing?"

He looks down at his feet, shoulders slumping. "No reason. Forget I asked."

v.

When Fox lays awake at night, the bedroom next to his now dull and empty, he thinks he can hear a voice. It isn't Samantha's—though he'd thought so at first.

"By heaven, man," she reads, "we are turned round and round in this world, like yonder windlass, and Fate is the handspike. And all the time, lo! that smiling sky, and this unsounded sea!"

What does this girl know about fate? What does she know of this upside-down world?

"Read the next chapter, Dana!" he hears another girl's voice speak. The words are faint—muffled—like he's underwater. But her voice is clear.

He falls asleep, like most nights, listening to the tales of Ahab and Starbuck, and a great white whale.

-.-.-

Tag List ♡: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @numinousmysteries @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf @thursdayinspace

[vodika-vibes]

The Happiest Ending

Summary: Of all of the possible outcomes of the war, Bacara never once considered that he might get a happy ending. He’s never been happier to be wrong in his life.

Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader

Word Count: 694

Warnings: None

A.N: This story is brought to you by the fact that my 8th Anniversary was on the 16th and I couldn't celebrate it because I was so sick. I hope you all like it~

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

It’s late.

Bacara can see the full moon peeking at him through the windows, and the chrono next to the bed shows that it’s well past midnight.

It’s late enough that he should be asleep.

He has a long day coming up, and he needs to be rested for it.

But as he lays in the impossibly soft bed, covered in thick comforters that smell faintly of flowers, and the soft sound of rain filling his ears from the white noise machine on the other side of the room, Bacara finds himself unwilling to drift off to sleep.

It hadn’t been so long ago that this life was impossible for him to even imagine. Bacara had been convinced that he would die on some cold planet far away from the core, just like so many of his brothers.

But he didn’t.

In fact, the war ended just as suddenly as it began. The only people who know what really happened are the Jedi Council and some politicians. But one day all of the clones returned to Coruscant to learn that they were free men and that they had choices now.

Some of his brothers elected to remain with the Jedi. But a large number elected to go to school to learn a new trade, or just move away from Coruscant. Fox, Bacara knows, took the former Coruscant Guard and moved into Mandalorian Space to become Journeymen Protectors.

It had been a tempting offer, when Fox reached out to him and offered him a place on Concord Dawn with him, but, at the time, Bacara had been so tired that he turned his younger brother down.

Looking back now, Bacara is glad that he did.

He elected to move to Mandalore. He settled in the North, inheriting a small parcel of land that once belonged to Jango Fett.

Bacara had been unable to convince the people living here that he wasn’t Jango’s son. No matter how many times he explained that he was basically just canon fodder, the elders were adamant that Jango created him, which made him Jango’s son.

In the end, he couldn’t convince them, so he, somewhat gracelessly, took the Fett surname and allowed them to teach him how to tend to the land that he inherited. 

Jango would be rolling in his grave.

It was a thought that made the whole situation more tolerable, at the time.

Bacara pulls himself from his thoughts when the warm body next to him stirs and presses against his side. His gaze drifts down to regard the sleeping woman, a small smile lifting his lips.

She’s managed to pull the blanket high enough that only her hair is visible. Carefully, he pulls the blanket down so it’s not over her face, and he brushes a strand of hair off her face.

Her pretty face scrunches up and slowly her eyes flutter open, “‘cara?” Her voice is rough with sleep.

“I’m here, riduur.”

She yawns, cutely, and slings her arm across his chest, “Dreamed you went away.” 

“That’s silly, where would I go?”

She shifts slightly so she’s able to rub her nose against his neck, “Dunno. Just…away.”

Bacara rolls to face her, his arms wrapping tightly around her, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for life.”

A tired smile lifts her lips, “Mm…forever?”

“Forever,” Bacara confirms as he kisses her forehead, and then trails his lips down to kiss her properly. “Go back to sleep, riduur.”

She hums and presses closer to him, “Why’re you awake?”

“Was thinking about you.” 

“Good things?”

“Only the best.” He kisses her one more time, “I love you.”

Her smile becomes almost bashful, but she reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck so she’s able to press her forehead against his, “I love you more.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” His voice is light as he tangles his legs with hers, “Happy Anniversary, Riduur.”

“You remembered~”

“How could I forget the happiest day of my life?” His arms tighten around her and smiles as her eyes drift shut, and then a peaceful look slides across her face. “Good night, riduur.”

“Good night, ‘cara.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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[max-nico]

Happy whumptober everyone !! This is technically an installment to an old series I have on AO3 so here's that link, in case you want a little bit of context.

01. Race against the clock

Search party || panic attack || “if only we could hold on”

Sonic did not expect losing a kid to be this stressful. Especially when the place he lost him isn't very big. One bedroom, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, a basement, and a garage. Honestly if you want to be a little more technical, the garage door stays locked at all times, so does the basement, and the second bathroom. That's even less places for a toddler to be able to hide, but somehow Sonic still can't find him.

Shadow can't either. He's begun looking in places that are physically impossible for the little fox to hide in, because if either hedgehog has learned anything; it's that toddlers are enigmas that can do anything if given enough time unsupervised. Not that Sonic was leaving the kit unsupervised. He would never. Don't ask for Shadows' two cents on this topic though, because he has a lot of evidence that shows otherwise.

“Alright.” Shadow huffs, slamming a couch cushion down. “Walk me through it again. What happened?”

“Well, the kid wanted something from me, but I couldn't understand what he was saying.” Sonic drawls.

“Right.”

“So, he stormed off, then he disappeared. I was in the kitchen when he walked away.”

“And there was absolutely no suspicious noises, shouting, or anything?”

“There was a big boom.” Sonic elaborates.

Shadow looks thoughtful for a second, a hand running through his well manicured quills. “Did you go investigate the boom?”

“‘Course not. There was no howling or crying so I figured he just got frustrated. He gets that storming off stuff from you, by the way.”

Shadow glares at Sonic's cheeky smile.

There's silence between them for a few moments as they think. There's truly not a lot of places the kid could've gone. The house is small, only really having the necessities and… various nicknacks. Nothing the kid can break or hurt himself with, obviously. They're both good enough at parenting to at least put away all the fragile stuff.

“Do you think he left?” Shadow says out of the blue, a slightly sick look on his face.

Sonic replies with a matching concerned expression. Miles has seen both of them storm out of the house multiple times. Shadow does it out of anger, and Sonic does it to irritate Shadow. It's a balanced relationship. Unfortunately, their very normal and healthy balance has put them in quite a predicament.

Miles is nothing if not a mimic. If one of the hedgehogs does something, he's immediately copying. Everything from words, to actions, to gestures. It's as endearing as it is annoying. Shadow's had to cut down on threats and Sonic's had to cut down on recklessness, but they've both come to terms with the fact that it's probably for the best that they drop those habits anyway. Now they just have another habit to drop, the habit in question being; leaving the house to influence some sort of rage, of course.

“Shit.” Sonic says.

- ฅ -

Miles is very angry, or was very angry. Now he really just wants to go home. The sun is going down and it's getting cold outside. He doesn't want to be outside when it's cold because… because it's cold. He hates being cold.

Sonic taught him what cold was sometime ago, well Tails has always known cold, he just didn't know what it was called until a few months ago. He taught him that the fridge-freezer is cold and the stove-oven is hot, and they are opposites, but they both can hurt when there's too much of either.

That's another word he was taught, ‘hurt’. Lots of things can hurt. After discovering how many things can make him hurt, Miles has begun to be afraid of a lot of things. Things he wasn't afraid of before living with Sonic and Shadow. They taught him ‘afraid’ and ‘scared’ and ‘fear’, and they taught him how to be those things too.

The sun is going down. He is afraid of the dark, and he is afraid of being cold. There is no Sonic to read to him before bed, and no Shadow to give him a blanket when he shivers. Miles is alone, and he thinks this is the scariest thing of all.

Still, he carries on, unsure of where he's going, determined to get home before nightfall. He's gotten turned around a million times by now in these woods. The house is surrounded by it. Everything looks the same, everything smells the same, everything feels the same. The trees are so so tall, and the brush is so thick it pulls on his fur. He can barely see over the huge bushes. He doesn't understand how anyone finds their way in here.

But then, there's a miracle. A path. The trees have been split down the middle, and the brush is burnt to a crisp, but there's a path. Miles isn't sure what he's going to do when he reaches the end of it, but it has to be better than ripping at plants and shivering in the cold.

He trips on to the thin line of clearing. The leaves under his knees burn patchy holes into his fur, making him hiss loudly. The worst part is he's still cold when he stands up, you would think burning yourself while being cold would make you warm, but no, it just makes you cold, and it makes you hurt.

Miles feels like his heart is stuck in his throat. He's felt like this before. He knows he has. The memory is blurry, buried deep in his subconscious, and the same thing that squeezes his heart tells him to leave it alone. Miles doesn't think he has a choice, he's still walking down this path, and he's afraid if he doesn't pay more attention the cold will get him.

The cold, or the dark, or the fire, or the aloneness.

He starts sprinting. He can't help it. He can't let the cold the fire dark solus it get him. He feels like his lungs are wringing themselves out in his chest, he can't get enough air in as he runs. What if it catches up to him? Miles can't stop. He can't. He can't. He can't.

Of course, Miles' body doesn't care about the dark creeping up on him. He collapses in a heap on the forest floor. The smoldering thicket beneath him puts more patchiness into his coat, but he just can't find the resolve to get up. He's suffocating, he can't focus on the heat. He just can't.

Miles isn't sure how long he lays there. Long enough for the moon to rise high in the sky at least. Time got weird when he crumbled. He blinked once, twice, then the sun was completely gone, and the light from the brush had been snuffed out. It left him shivering and alone on the charred floor.

The fox debates on getting up for a while. Doing what Shadow does by weighing the pros and cons. He gets tired of that quickly, and decides to lay there out of pure and utter exhaustion.

Miles dozes for a while. It's so cold. His nose is runny. He's hungry. It's dark. His body hurts. He's scared. Miles doesn't want to remember the last time he felt like this. He still doesn't think he has a choice.

His mind fumbles through fuzzy memories of labs, IVs, medical tables, white floors. The full picture is just barely out of reach, like he's dragging the anamnesis from his brain with a fraying rope. The longer he lays shivering the more he begins to remember. Obscured faces just barely begin to clear when something blue enters his vision.

The memory is gone, floating away from him like a heavy fog.

“Sonic!” Miles yips, pushing his dirty and burnt body off the floor. He smiles and tilts his head up, getting a long whiff of Sonic's naturally breezy scent.

Only, he finds it to be lacking. He smells ozone, heavy and metallic. It makes his nose wrinkle in disgust as he finally begins to focus on the thing in front of him. Blue, sharp, and robotic. He swallows as he realizes the machine in front of him is definitely not Sonic.

So what does he do now?

Alright. Barely proof read. Wrote in about an hour n a half.

When this is posted to AO3 (don't expect that to happen any time soon) this will be proofread, elongated, and maybe multi chapter, for your reading pleasure.

Feel free to hop into my askbox !! I am p bad at keeping up with asks but I try my best !

Whump prompt explanations

Race against the clock = make it home before nightfall

Search party is only Sonic and Shadow bc in the fics canon their friends don't know about Tails yet

Panic attack. Tails has one.

I honestly forgot about the quote. It will be used as a chapter title when I post this on AO3

I make no promises that I will participate in everyday of whumptober. By the gods am I giving it a shot tho

[simonsrosebud]

andrew finding out what nicky did after neil got drugged at the nightclub in book one. probably after the events of the book

prefacing this: Neil's reaction in this shouldn't be confused for forgiveness bc it's not, Nicky does not need to be forgiven for what he did. This was quite hard to write because trying to imagine how Andrew or Neil would react is kinda impossible- Andrew has limits and rules and Neil's approach to these kinds of things is almost just blindly accepting that it happened and moving past without confronting it (for ex: Jean participating in waterboarding Neil but Neil still looking out for him in TSC in his weird way. Nathan almost killing him and Neil kind of blocking it out after Baltimore is over bc the Foxes are his again and he has championships and Andrew to focus on. Granted, so very different than this, but Neil is very different)

All we know of Neil and Nicky's interactions after Neil's first night in Eden's is what Neil tells us, and he really doesn't say much about it afterwards. The reactions from both him and Andrew are very much up to interpretation from person to person. I can't begin to get into their minds and thoughts about this, which is why it's in Nicky's perspective.

cw: talk about past SA, confrontation about past SA, choking, knives, bit of blood (pls lmk if i missed anything else)

Nicky doesn’t do it on purpose.  Spill the beans, that is.

Well, to be clear, he doesn’t mean for Kevin to spill the secret on purpose.  Nicky himself, however, had kind of been prepared to take this to his grave.

Kissing Neil was inadvisable.  Kissing Neil to drug him was inexcusable, and kissing Neil after Andrew told him no was just asking for it at that point.  Neil hasn’t forgiven him, he doesn't think, even a year and a half later, but Nicky doesn’t expect him to.  It hasn't been brought up since that fall, after all. He doesn't want to bring it back up. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he was Neil, he just didn’t know how else to get the cracker dust into his system when he was being so adamant about not drinking.

Well, and then Nicky found out that Andrew already succeeded in drugging Neil which made him feel worse because he could have avoided that kiss entirely and-

Nicky takes a breath.  Betsy has shown him techniques on how to breathe in a way that doesn’t tear his lungs apart.  God, Nicky can already imagine the look on Erik’s face if someone has to tell him that his fiancé died because he couldn’t get a grip.

Nicky pinches his thigh and glances at Andrew, tight muscles and face vacant of anything- it’s what scares him the most.  He doesn’t know what lies underneath.  And really, Nicky should have just told him least year, but a drugged Andrew was more unstable than a sober one.  He didn’t wanna be stabbed.

Until Kevin.

“Never have I ever kissed Neil,” Matt says, and no one except for Andrew drinks.  Neil doesn’t even glance by Nicky, doesn’t even care to acknowledge it because they haven’t since Nicky apologized, because the thought of being kissed by anyone makes him swivel his head towards Andrew so fast that he almost forgets about anything else.  He’s happy and healthy and enjoying the tinge of pink on Andrew’s ears until Kevin suddenly has a hand on Nicky’s shoulder, drunk and slow and saying, “You gotta drink, Nicky.”

Nicky can feel the exact moment that Andrew clues in (which, of course, is right away).  He zeroes in on Nicky and his grip on his whiskey glass tightens.  “Something to share, Nicholas?”  

Nicky flits his eyes between Andrew and Neil, both sitting still and stony, and tries not to throw up right there.  “Um, it- at Eden’s,” he says quietly.  “The first time he went.”  And he wants to explain.  Wants to tell Andrew that he didn’t know how else to drug someone without being caught, because even the shadier Eden’s workers wouldn’t appreciate seeing him pour cracker dust into someone’s mouth.  That he was feeling lonely and thought it was a creative solution; that trying to justify it in his head only worked because he was wasted and high; that he felt nauseous the entire next day from the moment he told Erik on the phone.  Saying it out loud made it real, and making it real only made the guilt in his stomach feel like molten lead.  Heavy and constricting and sickening.  And then Neil avoided him like the plague every time he blocked out the image of blown pupils and fear and worked up the courage to apologize to his face.

Except he can see in Andrew’s eyes that he doesn’t need to explain, that Andrew doesn’t care for his pathetic excuse, and Nicky winces because he knows.  Andrew had been with Neil from the time they’d gotten there to the time he released him into Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin’s hands, drugged and slippery.  He knows that any kiss shared after that couldn't have been shared mutually.

In German, Andrew says, “Give me one good reason not to kill you.”

Fuck, shit, this is not how he planned this day to go.

Nicky wipes the tears welled in his eyes at the look on Neil’s face, guarded and a little pissed off, he thinks.  It's deserved, Nicky knows, but that doesn't make him feel any better.

Your feelings are the least of their concerns, he tells himself.

“I-I just did it to get the cracker dust in his mouth- when we took him to Eden’s the first time!  You-You told me to keep him high and-“

“I told you what I’d do if you touched him.”

Nicky flinches as Andrew stands.  He knows Andrew keeps his promises and just because he’s finding out a year and a half late does not mean he won’t still apply it.  Now he’s moving quietly towards Nicky across the room, and his heart is pounding so loud he barely hears the cracking of the glass as Andrew drops it at Nicky’s feet.  He thinks he hears him say whoops, but then Nicky is hauled to his feet and slammed against the wall.  He fits into the drywall in a way that he suspects might lead to a hole behind his ass, but then he’s got more pressing matters because there’s a tight hand around his throat and he’s pretty sure he’s got a blade to his abdomen, but if he just doesn’t breathe he won’t feel it.  If Andrew tightens his grip he won’t be able to, anyway.

Nicky’s voice comes out brittle and thin, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Andrew don’t-“

“Andrew,”  Neil says, and his voice comes through Nicky’s foggy brain loud and clear.  It’s not enough to stop Andrew from digging his fingers into Nicky’s throat and teasing his skin with the tip of a knife, but it’s enough for him not to push it all the way through.

Andrew doesn’t exactly sneer, because his facial expressions are far and few between, but Nicky can feel the rage roiling through him regardless.  “I will kill you,” he says, so low Nicky isn’t sure anyone else hears it.

Neil says, “Andrew,” again.  He comes to stand beside them, not getting too close because he knows this isn’t between him- it’s all Nicky.  In German, “What he did was not okay,” Neil is saying and god Nicky hopes that just this once, God will help him out because the air is tipping into the same dangerous territory that it did when Allison slapped Aaron; when Andrew choked Kevin; when Andrew almost killed those four men.  “Let him go anyway.  This is between me and him.  You said you’d stop fighting my battles.”  Nicky clenches his eyes tight, praying that he’ll live to see the end of the day.

“I said I’d kill him for touching you, too.”

Neil is closer, now, by the sound of his voice when he says, “Fine, then you should hit me afterwards.”

Nicky hears Aaron softly, saying the fuck? and Andrew is looking fiercely at Nicky when he peeks an eye open.  His lip twitches in anger, but he freezes.  “Neil,” he warns.  Nicky doesn’t know what it’s supposed to mean- has Neil done something similar?  But no, he wouldn’t.  He-

“You told us not to touch your things.  A lot, actually.  But me and Kevin have gone at it, and I punched Aaron at the cabin last year.”

Good god, Neil, this was not the same.

Nicky can feel himself trying not to hyperventilate.  He looks at Neil instead, a safer target, almost.  Not any less scary, but his attention is fixed on Andrew instead.  “Let him prove himself.  He’s kept my boundaries thus far, hasn’t he?  I don’t- He did it to me, Andrew.  Not you.  It’s not your decision on what happens to him because of it.”  Then quieter, more icy, “He was listening to your orders, after all.  You should have left the task to Aaron if you wanted someone drugged the way you wanted.”

The look Andrew shoots Neil is borderline murderous, but Nicky can feel the hesitation in the grip on his neck.  Neil’s accusation is harsh and puts partial blame on Andrew, something that Nicky hopes they get through as a couple or… whatever they are to one another.  Having Andrew and Neil on the loose again without each other’s voices of reason was terrifying.

Andrew’s grip bruises Nicky and makes him wheeze when he tightens his fist for a few seconds, but when Nicky finally reaches up to claw at his hands he finally lets go and steps back.  Andrew’s hand is bloody, fingers pressed too tightly to the blade he held.  He drops it to the ground, wipes his hand across Neil’s shirt and effectively ruining it, if the blood stain says anything, and slams the door open on his way out.

Nicky isn’t surprised that the only ones at his side as he crumples to the ground are Aaron and Renee.  Kevin too drunk to be of any help and Matt and Dan too shocked by the whole encounter.  Matt knows all too well what it’s like being drugged by Andrew, and Dan knowing the feel of crackers on top of her existing resentment of the Monsters.

Neil looks down at Nicky, fingers flexed at his sides and face almost as blank as Andrew’s gets.  “This,” he gestures between himself and Nicky.  Saving, Nicky assumes he means.  He’ll never be able to repay the debt.  He’ll move across the country if Neil asks him to, he thinks.  Perhaps Germany will be far enough.  “Will never happen again.”

[bloodandoranges]

“Dear god, please help me.”

Astarion/Tav (depictions of Astarion’s past and trauma, may be a bit confronting! I tried my best to keep it somewhat lighter but it’s…kind of impossible / no mentions of tavs gender / vague mentions of his former victims / angst / 18+ / happy ending with Tav)

song inspiration

I am walking through Rome,

with my heart on a string.

The streets of Baldurs Gate were no stranger to Astarion; he’d sauntered it countless times in his life, walked these streets nearly every day. But now, stalking like a fox in the dark through the dimly lit streets? He hardly knew where he was going.

He’d only awoken days beforehand, and here he was, on the prowl… Cazador, his master, had given the order to hunt; never to take more than their bodies, not a single drop of their blood…only their hearts.

Dear god, please help me.

She was such a sweet girl; he was her first. She’d laughed and sang to him, and tangled her fingers tightly into his hair as ran his mouth over her sweet soft body.

He was a little harder to woo, strong and stoic and quiet… but he became bashful after sweet whispers and a hand over his thigh. Astarion had him in his bed moments later, crying out his name.

I am so very tired

Of doing the right thing.

He had everything planned out almost down to the second, every single touch, every sweet words, every cry of false ecstasy. He became a master at his game. Despite the disgust he felt, the ache of autonomy no longer his? The nights spent in a sweet embrace of someone he didn’t care for far surpassed those in the dungeons, the nights the smelled of foul blood, of cracked and bloodied nails.

Dear god,

Please help me.

There are explosive kegs

between my legs.

There was no joy to be found in sex anymore. It was as monotonous and as natural to him as breathing was; he hardly even gained any temporary bliss from it. He existed to please - never to be pleased. He didn’t dare indulge in a thing.

Except this once; one darling he could not find it in himself to kill.

The adrenaline wore off within the first few days. His hands were bloody, nails cracked and torn. He wished and prayed for freedom for the first tenday, and the next? He prayed for death.

When the lid of the coffin was finally removed, after a year of pure agony? Even the dim light of candles burned his eyes as his frail body was dragged from his tomb.

He wondered how anyone could believe in the gods. How anyone could pray to them and believe their prayers would be answered; or even heard. How could benevolence even exist in such a world?

Dear God,

Please help me.

Will you follow and know?

Know me more

Than you do

Track me down

And try to win me?

The first time he laid eye on you he’d felt a spark; though he jotted that down to his new cerebral neighbour. Of course, you were just too good to pass up - the leader of this merry little band of misfits? He had to have you wrapped around his fingers; the only way he knew how.

Soft touches, kind words… promises he couldn’t keep.

Then he motions to me,

With his hand on my knee

Dear god,

did this kind of thing happen to you?

The nightmare had rattled him to his core. He stood over you, staring for what felt like hours before he made his move. And of course? You had to wake up.

After a heated discussion, you gave yourself to him…and as he drank greedily from you; it was cemented in his mind that was truly free …and that he owed a great deal to you.

He sauntered off into the night, sated, feeling more in control than he had in 200 years. And with that? He felt his resolve slip; he didn’t need to worry about manipulating you anymore. He had the ball in his court, so to speak.

And yet, as he hunted? You were all he could think about.

Now I’m spreading your legs,

With mine

In between

Dear god, if I could

I would help you,

In the all too familiar graveyard of Baldurs Gate, he draws you close, breath cool on your warm flushed skin — hands exploring your warm, soft body. You’d given him everything; or atleast given him the tools and the strength and the /love/ to get this far. He owed it all to you.

As he presses you back, he whispers sweet nothings, soft ‘I love you’s’, his hands taking the time to explore…eager to make you cry out for him, but even more eager to relearn your body. Eager to enjoy your pleasure, eager to enjoy his /own/.

Now I am walking through Rome

And there is no room to breath

But the heart

Feels free

Astarion cowered behind the shade of a few shipping boxes, grateful he had a robe to shield himself. He gave a choked sob just as you arrive, scrambling over to shield him further. He felt like everything had been stolen from him again, and yet, when you spoke?

“It’s okay. I’m here. We’ll figure something out.” You whispered as you cup his face, and suddenly, he felt his worries drift away. He trusted you completely; if you said you’d figure something out? He had to believe it.

As you cradled him, soft sobs wracking his body? He realized that he was finally, truly free. He’d find his own sun. Perhaps he already had.

[mya-valentine]

Another Round, Doll

Synopsis: A barmaid at the Boar Hat becomes the favorite target of Ban’s playful teasing, with him constantly asking for “another drink” just to get her attention. But when a group of dangerous men storm the tavern demanding her, Ban’s flirty demeanor shifts to fierce protectiveness, showing he’s willing to risk everything to keep her safe.

A/N: Happy 214th post😊🩷(It's my birthday number 😂)

The Boar Hat was unusually lively tonight, the raucous laughter of patrons filling the air as mugs of ale clinked together and plates of food were devoured in a whirlwind of chatter. As the barmaid, it was your job to keep up with the chaos, weaving between the tables with a tray balanced expertly in one hand while the other distributed drinks with mechanical precision.

But your routine was frequently interrupted by one mischievous, silver-haired fox—the one and only Ban.

"Hey, doll, how 'bout another round?" Ban's smooth, teasing voice cut through the noise, accompanied by that signature smirk that seemed to drip with trouble.

You turned to him with a look of feigned exasperation, already well aware of his antics. His mug was still full. "You’ve barely touched the last one," you pointed out, placing your hands on your hips.

Ban leaned back lazily in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "Yeah, but it’s more fun to watch you bring it to me," he drawled, winking.

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Ban had been teasing you since the day you started working at the Boar Hat, always finding an excuse to call you over. Whether it was asking for another drink, making some ridiculous request, or simply throwing out a flirtatious comment, he seemed to enjoy getting under your skin.

"You're impossible," you muttered, but you still went to fetch him another mug of ale, knowing full well he didn’t actually need it.

When you returned, Ban reached for the mug, but instead of taking it, he grabbed your wrist gently, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin. The smirk on his face softened slightly, his crimson eyes glinting with something unspoken.

"You’re workin' too hard," he said, his voice quieter, almost sincere. "You should take a break, y’know."

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden change in tone. Before you could respond, the door to the Boar Hat slammed open, and the atmosphere shifted in an instant.

A group of rough-looking men stormed in, their weapons glinting menacingly in the dim light. The lively chatter died down as the patrons turned to stare, the air growing thick with tension.

"Where’s the owner?" one of the men barked, his voice sharp and threatening.

Meliodas stepped forward from behind the bar, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with a calm yet dangerous aura. "What can I do for you gentlemen?"

The leader of the group sneered. "We’re here for the barmaid." His eyes landed on you, and your blood ran cold. "Hand her over, and we won’t wreck the place."

Ban was on his feet in an instant, his casual demeanor gone. His crimson eyes darkened, and his smirk twisted into something far more dangerous.

"Sorry, pal," Ban said, stepping protectively in front of you. "But if you think you’re layin’ a finger on her, you’ve got another thing comin’."

The leader laughed, clearly underestimating the immortal standing before him. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

Ban didn’t bother responding. In a blur of motion, he closed the distance between them, his fist connecting with the man’s jaw with a sickening crack. The leader crumpled to the floor, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

The other men barely had time to react before Ban was on them, moving with a speed and precision that left them no chance to retaliate. You watched in awe and horror as he dispatched them one by one, his movements almost lazy yet devastatingly effective.

When the last man hit the floor, Ban turned to you, his crimson eyes softening as he stepped closer. "You okay, doll?"

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yeah, I... I’m fine. Thanks to you."

Ban smirked, his usual cocky demeanor returning. "Told ya I’d take care of ya."

You let out a shaky laugh, your adrenaline starting to fade. "Guess I owe you a drink now."

Ban chuckled, slinging an arm around your shoulders as he guided you back to the bar. "Nah, doll. Just seeing you safe is reward enough."

But as you glanced up at him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his smirk softened when he looked at you, a glimmer of genuine affection hidden beneath his playful exterior.

Maybe Ban’s antics weren’t just about getting under your skin after all.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Yandere Werewolf Idea

yandere male werewolf x gn reader

Thinking of a werewolf who specifically becomes yandere for someone who doesn't use colognes, perfumes, or even essential oils.

Warnings: a bit of self negativity, forced relationship (but that comes with most yandere stuff, let's be honest)

I know the idea of werewolves noses being more sensitive to smells even in their human form. That also makes me think how I'm super sensitive to those three types of things and don't wear them because even the lightest bit on friends next to me makes my eyes water and sting severely, and don't wear makeup from sensory issues of AuDHD.

Anyway, back to my thought. A man who is secretly a werewolf who is incredibly attractive to most of the public.

of course, every date or so he's been on they get all dressed up and make themselves smell good to impress, right? not for him. Every time he has to try his hardest not to recoil at the stench of whatever they put on. He can barely even hold down a few bites of his meal with them.

Every time it leads up with him asking them the reason about the smell and if they'd ever possibly put it on less often. He always gets answers of they like how it makes them smell, so probably not. and that's the last he really tries to date them.

that is until he finds a rather intoxicating smell that doesn't overpower him in a bad way. A more natural scent! He just has to meet you!

It leads to him befriending some of your friends to get more on you and finally meet you once he knows you won't get away. he wont let such a precious thing go.

Whenever you two start hanging out as really close friends, he has to hold back everything in himself to not shove his face in your neck and stay there as long as possible. Something snapped in him, and he absolutely refuses anyone else. Even other werewolves he's tried to date, but him and them just never felt what was needed to know it's meant to be.

the only problem is you refuse to date him. You've seen the way others glare at you whenever one of his arms are behind you or he grabs your hand, interlocking fingers. or even how close he likes to sit with you over anyone else. You think he can do better than you. You barely put effort into your looks most of the time after all. An ex friend even said standing next to him you look like a troll. They're still missing from several months ago.

He's not ignorant of the glares either, making him glare back at them. A feral and threatening glare that would make even the most hardened warrior shiver from.

He finally snaps though when people start trying to ask you out, and you agree to them but not him???

He follows them late at night and rips them to shreds. Literally. they're so torn up it's impossible to recognize them. It's then he also decides to show you who he truly is.

He easily enters your house from a key you gave him, still covered in blood. It's past midnight.

You immediately smell the copper and manage to sit up where you were, worried for a second that he was injured. But there were no visible wounds that would show that much blood.

You didn't even get a chance to move before he lunged and tackled you down faster than a fox with a rabbit. A drop of still-wet blood falls down onto your forehead as you look into predatory eyes a way you've never seen before. Fear enveloping your whole body that you're about to be killed next. His ragged breathing being the only thing in the silence.

You close your eyes to brace for it, but nothing happens. A large hand cups the side of your face. The wet, sticky texture of the clotting blood touching you as well.

He lets out an inhuman growl. "I tried to do this the right way. To have you be mine. For us to be happy together. I need you to be with me. I'm not giving you a choice." His hand grows to have sharp claws on it, but he doesn't fully transform. He doesn't need to. The inhuman growls rumbling in his chest were all you needed to know.

"You know what I am, and I want you. Only you. I'll rip who ever tries to get between us ever again to shreds. Just like I did them. And don't even think of trying to run. I'll easily find you no matter how far you get. And who would believe you a werewolf exists? heh."

He leans down and gives a surprisingly gentle kiss on your lips, sealing your fate.

[bubybubsters]

Impossible (Part 1)

a/n: I feel like how this fic will unfold completely depends on how I'm feeling when i'm writing it. Enjoy! (or not)

special shout-out to @clairebear08 for helping me and being awesome!

pairing: azrier!reader, eris!azriel, eris!reader

wc: 1450+ (I’m working my way to 2000 y’all!)

⚠️: none

masterlist prologue part 2 three

Y/n’s POV

Your emotions were mixed, some part of you was ridiculously happy that Azriel had finally come to see you. But the other (bigger) part of you was screaming to say ‘fuck you’ and slap him. Maybe even kiss Eris, just to shove it in his face. He’d come to do what? Say sorry he rejected a sacred bond and ask for it back? Well now that you thought about it, yeah, probably exactly that. You’d thought you’d been happy, you’d gotten to know eachother, bonded over books and talked to the other about every which thing.

Well in your case at least, you’d told him everything and given him your heart to keep safe. Not anymore, you’d take your heart back. But he hadn’t told you of his relationship with Elain and he’d taken what you’d offered and broke it. You wasn’t sure he’d meant to but he broke some part of you with it, he broke your trust, your joy, your ease around everyone and your incredible way to make everyone laugh (even Amren)!

As you opened Eris’s closet door and stepped outside your jaw fell agape. He'd changed as well and he looked delicious fabulous in a unbuttoned formal gold jacket and sharp, orange-yellow dress pants.

Shit, he's hot was the first thought flashing through your mind as you gawked at him.

Eris flashed you his signature smile, "See something you like, little fox?"

You roll your eyes but don't stop staring. "What could I possible see that I like High Lord?"

He grins at your attempt to deflect, "I don't know Y/n, how about my abs?"

Your eyes immediately find his abs and you blush because his abs are spectacular. Finally dragging your eyes up to his face you force a smile as you remember why exactly, you’re up at the crack of dawn staring at some guys muscles.

“So umm, Azriel?”

Eris visibly tenses as he nods, “right, yeah.” He takes in your Illyrian leathers, “you sure you want to wear those?”

You know what he’s asking, you haven’t worn them since that faithful day. But now seems like the best time, to show Azriel that your world dosent revolve around him. You nod, throat closing up at the encouraging smile Eris gives you.

You both exit, him holding the door open every time so you can step through to the next room. Bloody hell, when did Eris become such a gentleman, and why do you find it so hot? You mentally slap myself, this is not the time to be thinking about Eris or his abs or anything about him.

You wonder what excuse Azriel has, why he’s come back to you after he rejected the bond. Did he realise just how important of a bond he rejected? When you’d found out about the bond, Rhys had told you that Az had been looking for his mate for centuries and that Az thought he wasn’t worthy of a mate in the Mothers eyes. That’s why you’d loved him, because you’d thought the same thing. Your whole family was mated and happy except you, for centuries you’d been searching for the right person and you’d just about given up when you found him! You were elated but for some reason it never felt like enough. As if the mating bond knew he was holding back on you, as if it was trying to tell you to find someone else. And then everything happened and you went to Eris because he’d always been polite to you and you always felt a pull towards him. with Eris you still didn’t feel like it was enough, and maybe that’s because you didn’t have a mating bond but you’re still falling for the High Lord. You’re falling fast and hard and if he rejects you, your heart will shatter.

You will shatter.

*****

Azriel's POV

Azriel waits, staring out the window watching the moon go down. Maybe you weren’t coming, maybe you decided you weren’t going to hear him out and didn’t want him anymore. Or maybe Eris is an asshole after all and convinced you not to come meet him.

No, there were footsteps approaching, two pairs. He straightened as he scented his mate. Were you still his mate? The mating bond was still there and so Az decided he would fight for you until you decided enough and broke the bond or forgave him and accepted the bond.

The steps rounded the corner and you appeared, Eris a step behind. Azriel stiffened at the sight of another male so close to his mate but hauled in his possessiveness and unabashedly took you in. You stared back at him, eyes tracing the lines of his body as if checking for injury’s before catching yourself and schooling your expression into indifference.

The act had Azriel’s instincts rising up to claim you as his. But he just lowered his head in apology. “Y/n… I can explain, I-” Azriel was cut off by your scoff, face still indifferent.

“What is there to explain, Azriel? That you chose Elain over me, your mate? What? Did she leave you and now you realise your wrong doings and come back to choose me as your second choice? Or are you going to say that you got brainwashed?”

Azriel blinked at the onslaught of words coming his way, trying to digest both what you’d said and what his shadows were saying. Mate. You’d referred to yourself as his mate. Joyful, electric hope filled his chest, maybe if you still thought of yourself as his mate he’d have a chance.

Eris has a comforting hand on the small of her back.

Her fingers are brushing her thigh constantly, her nervous tell.

She’s not indifferent anymore, her face turned hopeful after she said ‘brainwashed.’

There is a spark of hope in her eyes.

Each small thing his shadows whispered to him added kindling to the spark of hope inside his heart. He tried to hide the new light in his eyes as he said, “Y/n, I will do whatever it takes to get you to forgive me but I hope you will know that I regretted my decision not an hour after I made it but I hid it because I was afraid of the repercussions. Elain did leave for Lucien because she saw through me a week later and I am happy for them both but I’ve been trying to find you for a week, Rhys can confirm it. If you do not wish to talk with me or do not want me anymore, say it. I promise, I will wait here, in this room until you choose to talk or send me packing. But I will stay until we work this out, no matter what way it goes. I will respect your decision but I ask that you at least consider forgiveness, please.”

And that’s when Eris leaped forward, trying to cover Azriel’s mouth as he uttered the words after I promise.

That’s also when Azriel felt the slight tingle of magic along his elbow. And when he looked, his shoulder to wrist was covered in a tattoo. Flames and shadows in a deadly dance interrupted only by swirls of sunlight.

He slowly dragged his gaze up to yours, You were staring at his arm, expression full of hope and resignation. Azriel watched as you dragged your gaze up to his begging eyes.

Eris groaned, hand dropping from Az’s mouth as he sank to the ground in an exasperated heap a foot from Az. Azriel watched Eris and couldn’t help but wonder why the redhead cared so much about you . But Azriel couldn’t help but grimace and sink to the ground next to Eris. Wings working instinctively to protect the autumn court male next to him.

Azriel was stuck here, in the Autumn Court, the this room, until he and you worked it out. Which, judging by the look of hesitation and fear now taking over your expression, was not going to be anytime soon.

Eris sighed, calling out to the guards.

“Get our dear shadowsinger a bed, build a toilet and bath with curtains around it, and get anything he asks for unless it’s information or something possibly dangerous.” Eris ran a calculating eye over you and Azriel before adding, “and send our dear friends in the night court a letter requesting their presence by evening. We have a lot to explain as I don’t think Rhysand is getting his spymaster back in the next month.”

Azriel sighed, knowing Eris was likely right on all accounts. But he couldn’t hate the male like he used to, it just wasn’t possible anymore.

*****

Part 2

Rip Eris’ sanity. I’m happy with this, idc if y’all arent (well I care but whatever) please be nice, constructive criticism as always is welcome, everything is welcome.

taglist

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @thelov3lybookworm 💕 @the-sweet-psycho @profound-imagination @impossibelle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @stargirl1714

Thank you mutuals and everyone that has supported me in any way!

[everwitch-magiks]

Hi I love your RWRB stories.

How about for the AU fun facts game a high school AU and one of them is the popular jock and the other is the unpopular nerd?

Hi there, and thank you! ♡ What a lovely idea! Here goes:

It's when Henry scores a touchdown at homecoming that Alex falls in love with him. Not because of the touchdown itself - fuck knows Alex doesn't care about sports - but because of the way Henry looks after. The big fancy screens in the Fox Memorial Stadium show an absolutely irresistible closeup; Henry covered in mud and grinning from ear to ear, his happiness contagious as he pumps his fist in the air. He looks like he doesn't have a care in the world. It's wonderful to see. It so far from what Henry's expression has been for the past year - since they had reason to rename that goddamn stadium in the first place.

They meet in the school library. Although meet isn't really the word for it. Alex is late from his practice session with the mathlethes and is half-running so he won't miss too much of this week's model UN. Henry is holding court for his many adoring fans right by the classics section. And maybe it's an accident that Henry trips Alex over and makes everyone laugh, but that doesn't change the fact that it happens. Alex bats Henry's hand when Henry tries to help him to his feet. He hurries away; he's fucking late. And he's got much more important concerns than self-obsessed jocks who can't stay out of people's way. Even when they're as pretty as Henry.

Alex doesn't expect Henry to seek him out after that. Henry's got literally no reason to, not least because Alex is absolutely nobody. Henry, on the other hand, is more popular than the goddamn school mascot - no offense to the indomitable Mr. Wobbles, a most ferocious kitty, but he's got nothing on a certain Fox. But Henry waits by Alex's locker every day for a week. First to apologize, then to continue their conversation about sci-fi movies, then to ask Alex to lunch with him, then to lend Alex his copy of "Girl, Woman, Other", and finally to invite Alex to his next game. Alex rolls his eyes and goes on a rant about unequal school funding for dumb sports versus everything else. It's only when Alex gets to his math class that he realizes Henry might've just asked him out.

Pez is cheer captain and choreographs a whole routine for the sole purpose of wooing June. June is absent from the game as she's away at a student journalism meet. Sadness ensues. Henry comforts Pez. They stay in the locker room and feast on a bucket of popcorn until the coach finally kicks them out. They both miss Alex who was waiting with flowers outside.

Alex attempts to return Henry's copy of "Girl, Woman, Other" to Pez in order to avoid speaking to Henry. He must've misunderstood. Henry hadn't asked him out after all. It was all in his head. But Pez, who's great at spotting prime opportunities for grand gestures, springs to action. He quickly repurposes the cheer squad's 'woo June' routine to a grand promposal starring none other than Henry Fox. Pez isn't a man to let a good split-lift go to waste - especially not when it could help his best mate find true love. Henry declines performing the split-lift, which is his loss, but he does perform the promposal. Alex is speechless. He kisses Henry for the first time in the middle of the football field. For Henry's next game, Alex shows up with the classic game day face paint: grey whiskers (inspired by none other than Mr. Wobbles) and a blue heart on his right cheek. The way Henry kisses him after their win gets them both banned from the dance that same evening. Whoops. The football team, the cheer squad and the mathlethes all ditch the dance as a result. Pez organizes an expertly decorated alternative gathering within a minute and a half. It is technically impossible, but nobody thinks to question it. They all dance the night away. The end.

... okay, so this isn't five things that happens in the AU as much as the whole plot of it, but I did list it as five bullet points, so go me? And in any case, this was very fun! Thank you again for the ask! ♡

[wizardofrozz]

"Do I look like I've moved on?" with Cody

Always Yours

Commander Cody x fem!reader, Original Clone Troopers (Zero and Lith)

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: NSFW +18, smut, slight dubcon, possessive behavior (Cody's a little toxic in this), rough handling, exhibitionism

A/N: Happy Star Wars Day! Writing for Cody is new for me but this turned out better than I expected lol. I want to thank @homie-one-kenobi for letting me borrow her OC Lith for this fic and for all the encouragement and help from her, @a-single-tulip and @techs-feral-wife 💕

If anyone had told you that your night at 79’s would’ve ended with your cheek pressed into the wall of some dark corner with a panting commander at your back, you might’ve hit them. 

You were the idiot for thinking it would’ve ended any other way. 

It had started like any other night when you visited 79’s with a few of your friends, except this time there wasn’t a gold-painted commander ready to drag you to bed. You were almost sure he wasn’t even on Coruscant and that was the main reason you agreed to the night out. You had been playing this back and forth with Cody for a while now. Fucking like ashrabbits at every opportunity only to never hear from him until he blew back into 79’s after another campaign. It was an exhausting routine that got harder each time. Especially when you found yourself wanting…more from him. Something that seemed impossible for a man like him. 

You shoved away any thoughts of the 212th in general and leaned against the bar, half-heartedly listening to the conversation your friends were having. Luckily, it didn’t take long to catch a curious eye, although his red armor made you hesitate. Your job in the Republic Detention Center meant you worked closely with the Guard, and most notably, Commander Fox. 

Fox, who happened to speak to Cody at least once a week and couldn’t resist indulging in good gossip.

You allowed yourself to be pulled in by a sweet smile for the night knowing that Fox, and eventually Cody, would know about it in no time. You smirked to yourself as you approached the trooper, wishing you could see the look on Cody’s face when Fox undoubtedly called him. 

The trooper in question, Zero, truly was a sweetheart, and you felt a little guilty that you couldn’t give him what he deserved, but he seemed to understand on some level. You were currently perched on Zero’s lap, mindlessly playing with his fingers while he recounted the story of how he got his name. He was the kind of man you should’ve gravitated toward, but when did life ever make sense? 

“So, you’re proud of, as you put it, having zero brain cells,” you giggled, smiling when Zero’s cheeks took on a faint pink color.

“Well, when you say it that way,” he mumbled, twisting his mouth to the side. You laughed a bit louder, swaying close enough to catch a glimpse of his cheeky grin and unintentionally bringing your tangled hands closer to your chest. His gloved thumb grazed your collarbone, the warmth of his skin under the fabric had goosebumps trailing behind his touch, turning your laughter to ash on your tongue. He was close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. 

“I think it’s cute,” you whispered, your eyes trained on his mouth. 

“And I think you’re beautiful,” Zero countered. You watched the smile form on his lips, transfixed by how it fell somewhere between flirtatious and sweet. There was a gentle pressure against the underside of your chin, tilting your head back to force you to meet his eyes. Your lashes fluttered as he closed the gap, his lips finding yours in a soft, hesitant kiss.  

An explosion of whoops and cheers had you jerking back, years of working in a prison meant that loud bursts of noise had you whipping around in a panic to look at the door on instinct. Your heart immediately hit the floor when your brain registered that, you weren’t at work, and it wasn’t prisoners but waves of orange armored soldiers blowing through the doors. 212th troopers flooded the bar and you were blatantly staring, looking for that distinct sunburst that you had hoped you’d make it through one night without seeing. 

But when would you ever be that lucky?

He was the last through the door, keeping a slow, unbothered pace as he wandered toward the bar, eyes scanning the room. A small part of you hoped he wouldn’t notice you but you could see the exact moment his eyes landed on you. Cody’s mellow expression steadily darkened, his jaw flexing as his eyes ran the length of your body, noting the trooper you were perched on. Suddenly you were almost scared for the poor, naive shock trooper. 

“Hey,” Zero mumbled, cautiously cradling your hand. “What’s wrong?” You turned your head, finding genuine concern shining in his eyes and it broke your heart; this man had no idea what kind of mess he’d walked into. 

“Uh, I know some of the 212th,” you admitted with a shrug. The white lie was obvious but Zero let it slide, nodding as he shifted his eyes to the battalion getting louder by the minute. Cody had moved to an empty spot at the bar but you could still feel his eyes burying holes into your skin. “We could get out of here if you want?”

“Sure,” Zero replied, a small smile on his face, “I can walk you home.”

“I’d like that.” Zero’s smile brightened as he helped you to your feet before sliding out of his seat and leaning down next to your ear.

“Let me run to the bathroom before we go,” he yelled over the music. You nodded, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek as you handed over his helmet. The dusting of pink in his cheeks was back and you wished that it could last but you knew the second you were alone, all hell was going to break loose. Maybe one day he’d find someone that could give him what he deserved. You watched Zero work his way through the crowd until he disappeared into the sea of brothers, squirming under the heavy stare you could feel on your back. 

“You know he’s gonna be pissed.” You spun around at the voice next to your ear, blinking rapidly at Lith’s smug expression. 

“Hi, nice to see you too, Lith. How’ve you been?” you sassed, rolling your eyes. Lith just arched a brow, loudly sipping his drink, waiting for you to break the stalemate first. “It’s none of his business. He made it glaringly obvious that he doesn’t care.”

“Ha! That’s cute, you thinking he doesn’t care,” Lith laughed, shaking his head and you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach somersaulted at the thought. He leaned into your personal space, the acidic stench of cheap liquor on his breath. “Looks like you’ll find out for yourself.” His eyes lifted to something over your shoulder before he backed away, doing a terrible job of hiding his smirk behind the rim of his cup. The unforgiving hand that closed around your bicep had you going rigid, muscles locking up when his grip tightened. 

You refused to even look at him, trying to tug your arm away but Cody was relentless. You knew there was no use in fighting it, giving up and letting him drag you through the writhing crowd of bodies. He still wore all of his armor, sans helmet, allowing you to glare at the back of his head, occasionally catching a glimpse of his profile. You stumbled to a stop when Cody pulled you into one of the back hallways of the bar that was blessedly empty, something you knew wouldn’t last long as 79’s grew busier.

“What do you want, Cody?” you snapped as soon as he released your arm. He turned a sharp look in your direction but you stood your ground, crossing your arms. It was infuriating that despite how irritated you were with him, there was a tiny part of you that was relieved to see him alive. 

“What the fuck was that?”

“None of your damn business,” you hissed, taking a step closer to him. You expected anger, maybe even contempt, but Cody letting out a harsh, unamused laugh was probably at the bottom of your expectations for this conversation. 

“Aw, you really liked Fox’s shiny, huh?” Cody taunted, a cruel edge to his voice that you hated more with each passing second. 

“Maybe I did,” you spat, stifling the urge to shove him. “Maybe I had plans to show him what us natborns have to offer.” Cody’s expression twisted into something dangerous and he stalked toward you, backing you into a dark corner, looming over you. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he snarled, face barely inches from yours.

“And why not? You didn’t seem to have a problem sticking your dick in the closest breathing life form.” He jerked back like you’d hit him, a familiar crease forming between his brows, and for a moment you faltered. 

“What are you talking about?” he huffed, pressing two fingers into his right eye, an action you knew meant he had a headache building.

“I saw you with that Mirialan last time you were on-world,” you admitted, grinding your teeth at the image of the barely dressed woman draped across his lap. “You moved on, so I planned to do the same.” The words were barely out of your mouth before he surged forward, trapping you against the wall with a bruising kiss. Your immediate reaction was to push him away but your strength was no match for him, and if you were being honest, you had been craving this: the dominating sweep of his tongue, the way his presence demanded your attention, and the borderline possessive grip on the back of your neck. 

You ached for him no matter how hard you tried to fight it, despite the hurt that came with his presence. 

Cody broke away first, resting his forehead against yours. “Do I look like I’ve moved on?” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” you huffed, turning your face away from him. Cody growled, the hand curled around your neck tightening as he wedged his armored leg between yours, pressing the rigid plastoid tight against your suddenly aching pussy. 

“Guess I’ll have to prove it,” Cody breathed against your lips. You yelped at the sudden movement, gasping when your cheek met the cool wall, and your thigh clenched to satiate your throbbing clit. His body molded against your back, his warm breath puffing against your cheek, similar to how Zero’s had not even 15 minutes ago, but this promised something far less innocent than a chaste kiss. “For the record, I didn’t fuck that Mirialan.”

“Why?” you couldn’t help but ask. You weren’t expecting much, maybe an irritated huff but your lashes fluttered when his tense muscles softened against your back, his grip loosening slightly. 

“She’s not my sunshine,” he whispered, his pinched expression barely visible in your periphery. He didn’t even give you a second to absorb his confession before he was yanking your pants down, knocking the air from your lungs when his finger slid through your soaked folds. “Stars, you’re dripping.”

“Are you really surprised? It’s you,” you panted, blindly searching for his belt buckle. Cody chuckled against your shoulder, expertly sinking his finger into you down to the second knuckle from behind and resting his other hand on the curve of your waist. Stars exploded behind your eyelids, a soft whine working its way up your throat when it was just shy of what you had been craving. 

“Oh, cyare, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mumbled, pumping his finger.

“How - how about you show me instead of talking about it,” you taunted, rocking back into his hand. It really shouldn’t have been a surprise when he shoved two fingers inside you as far as they would go; you had asked for it. 

“I’m starting to wonder if I should fill that bratty mouth instead,” he mused, curling his fingers in a way that had your knees threatening to give out. You were quickly hurtling toward your first orgasm, your thoughts running together as pleasure tore through every cell in your body. 

“Fuck - I don’t care, just fill something,” you pleaded, meeting the slow thrust of his fingers. Cody groaned against your hair when you clenched around his fingers, your body unable to decide if you wanted his fingers or his cock. An involuntary whimper left your lips when you were suddenly empty and the clatter of plastoid behind you was enough to leave you squirming. 

“Ready?” Cody whispered against your cheek, his lips just barely brushing over your skin.

“Cody,” you whined, pushing against the head of his cock that was resting against your entrance. He didn’t seem to care about your pleading, sliding his cock through your soaked folds, the head nudging your clit with just the right amount of pressure. Stars danced behind your eyes, the drag of his cock taunting you with the one thing you wanted. Cody wasted too fucking long coating himself in your arousal only to sink into you without warning; the stretch was almost too much, bordering on painful. He didn’t stop until there was nothing left for you to take and his armored chest was flush against your back. He may as well have been in your lungs with how hard it was to pull in a full breath, your head feeling a little fuzzy. 

“Maker, you - you take me so well,” Cody panted, kissing down the length of your neck. You turned your head, resting your forehead against the wall, simply trying to breathe as the pain started to blossom into pleasure. The hand on your waist tightened, likely leaving finger-shaped bruises behind, a thought that made your head spin. Cody stood perfectly still as if he wasn’t balls deep in your fluttering pussy and if you could think straight, you’d have been a little peeved at his control. 

Just as you opened your mouth to beg him to start moving, Cody rolled his hips, forcing a surprised moan past your lips. Of course, that fucker could read you like an open book. However, that was the only warning he gave you before he pulled all the way out only to deliver a pointed thrust to exactly where you needed it most. Cody started at a brutal pace, the edges of his thigh armor biting into the back of your legs but you couldn’t find the brain power to give a shit, solely focusing on not drawing other patron’s attention. 

You jerked when something brushed against your lips, peeling your eyes open to find his free hand near your face.

“Open,” Cody ordered hoarsely in your ear, lightly tapping your bottom lip again. “And no biting.” You hesitated for a moment, this apparently being the thing that made your cheeks feel warm, not the fact that he was fucking you senseless with hundreds of his brothers a few feet away. And yet, your lips parted for him, taking two fingers into your mouth. You weren’t paying attention to what hand it was so when the faint taste of your own arousal hit your tongue you whimpered, clenching around him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his pace faltering. “Good– good girl. You like that, huh?” You could only hum in response, earning a soft, shaky chuckle from the man behind you, and in some twisted way it felt like this piece of him belonged to you. A part of himself he willingly shared with you when he didn’t need to, allowing you to see the effect you had on him. “I - I know…I do too.”

You moaned around his fingers, doing your best to meet his unforgiving thrusts just to hear the pinched-off moan he muffled against your shoulder, sending you closer to your tipping point. The heat building under your skin continued to grow but there was a disconnect, you could only just brush against it, leaving the mind-blowing orgasm out of reach. You squirmed trying to change the angle but Cody’s hand on your hips kept you trapped; this asshole knew it wasn’t enough. Worst of all, to make his point, he started to pump his fingers in time with his thrusts and you moaned desperately, debating on just touching yourself if he wasn’t going to. 

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, teeth grazing your jaw. “You told me to fill something, so I’m giving you what you wanted, cyare.” Cody pressed down on your tongue, slamming into you before going still, his slightly labored breathing puffing against your cheek. “I’d find a way to fill all three if I had the time.”

The pathetic cry of his name was muffled against his fingers, tears starting to well up as you teetered on the edge, so close yet so far. There was a moment of stillness, his cock twitching inside you before he started to lazily grind against your ass, the pressure on your tongue letting up. 

“I’ll give you what you want if you give me what I want,” he proposed, nuzzling against the bolt of your jaw. It was a much sweeter gesture than the rest of his demeanor would suggest and you couldn’t decide between being irritated or flustered. Either way, you nodded as best as you could, ready to give him whatever he wanted. “You’re mine - fuck - you hear me?” he panted, struggling to keep the lazy pace, his hips stuttering. “Some - some wet-behind-the-ears shiny wouldn’t know how to do this for you. He’s not me.” The desperation in his voice resonated in your soul, reminding you of why there was no one that could captivate you quite like Cody. “Please, just - just say it.”

His fingers slid out of your mouth, trailing spit down your chin. Cody gave you a minute to catch your breath, his presence lingering over your shoulder expectantly. Later, when your brain was back online, maybe you’d regret saying it, but deep down you knew it was true; you belonged to Commander Cody no matter how badly you tried to fight it.

“I’m yours, Cody,” you whispered, turning your head enough to bump your forehead against him. There was another weighted pause before he craned his neck, blindly kissing the corner of your mouth.

“And I’m yours,” he breathed, the admission making your throat feel tight. There were very few times Cody let this type of vulnerability through and you treasured each one but this one was easily the most profound. He was telling you the one thing you never thought possible from a man of his position and it was equally as beautiful as it was arousing. “Always yours.”

“Then show me,” you pleaded, pressing back into him. The soft laugh that bubbled past his lips made your stomach somersault, only making your barely coherent thoughts feel more disjointed, yet your lips parted on instinct at the soft tap of his finger. Cody kissed your cheek in a final sweet gesture before bucking his hips, punching what would’ve been a loud cry from you if it weren’t for his fingers stuffed in your mouth. Cody resumed his previous, punishing pace, yet this time the hand keeping a vise grip on your waist loosened, trailing lower. 

Your knees buckled at the lightning-quick tap against your clit, somehow pushing him deeper and the tears finally fell. Thank the heavens above that he didn’t stop there though, pressing with the perfect amount of pressure, drawing tight, fast circles that made each of your stunted inhales grow shorter until you were forced to unseal your lips from around his fingers. 

“Let go, sunshine,” Cody coaxed, sounding a bit desperate. You had been known to push his buttons, disobeying when the urge struck, but this was not one of those times. Your hands clawed at the wall, your back arching as the coil finally snapped, the pleasure lighting up every nerve ending from your head to your toes. Cody used the fingers still filling your mouth to tilt your head back, doing his best to muffle your sobs as he moaned openly against your shoulder. He made it through a few more pumps before going rigid, a barely audible whine leaving his lips as he came. 

You both slumped forward simultaneously, Cody’s fingers slipping from your mouth as his weight pressed you into the wall. The warm panting against your throat slowly brought you back to the land of the living, realizing Cody was still buried inside your sensitive cunt, his cum starting to leak down the inside of your thigh. 

“You’re fucking heavy,” you complained half-heartedly. Cody littered your shoulder with light, playful kisses, his arms moving to wrap around your waist as his shoulders shook with laughter. 

“Not usually wearing 80 pounds of armor,” he chuckled, kissing the base of your throat. That reminded you of where you were, realizing that the harsh lines of his thigh plates were still biting into the back of your legs, making you wonder if you’d have bruises for days to come. 

“Finding that I don’t really mind it,” you confessed, wiggling your arms out from where they were pinned to the wall so you could gently stroke his arm. “Sometimes at least.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cody snorted, one of his hands snagging your fingers as they trailed up his arm. A calm, intimate silence settled around you, letting you just bask in Cody’s presence but all good things had to come to an end. 

“We should go before someone finds us,” you sighed, dropping your cheek against the side of his head.

“Waxer and Lith are standing guard.”

“Of course they are,” you giggled, rolling your eyes fondly. Then you remembered a poor shock trooper most likely looking for you. “Did you at least tell Zero I didn’t get kidnapped?”

“No,” Cody grunted, squeezing your fingers in a way that definitely felt possessive. Oh, you had a bad feeling about what that meant. 

“Is Fox going to be calling to rip you a new one?”

“...maybe.” As if on cue, the comlink on Cody’s vambrace started to chirp softly and you had to stifle a laugh. 

“Come on,” you urged, voice wavering in an attempt to hide your amusement, “I want to go curl up in bed with a lot less plastoid, and you have the consequences of your actions to deal with.” Cody grumbled for a few seconds but inevitably untangled himself from you, bending down to grab his codpiece as you hiked your pants up again. You almost regretted wearing one of your favorite outfits now that they’d been stained with remnants of Cody. Almost. You glanced over at him once he finished clipping his codpiece in place, grinning at the scowl he was aiming at his comlink.

“What?” Cody grumbled. Fox barely let him finish answering the call before ripping into his brother.

“I’m coming for your fucking kneecaps,” Fox said, sounding eerily calm. “See how well you fuck without ‘em.” Cody shot you a dark look when you giggled but it didn’t hold its usual weight seeing that his brother’s disembodied voice was still chewing him out. You shot him a wink as you backed down the hallway, ignoring the warning in his beautiful brown eyes. 

“Reap what you sow, dear,” you called, blowing him a kiss before slipping through the door. You would definitely pay for that later and the idea that there would be a later with Cody made all the heartache worth it. 

Taglist: @toomanybandstocare @starrylothcat

[ghcstao3]

something wizarding world au. ghost grows up to become a pretty powerful and skilled wizard—but the one thing he can’t do? summon a patronus.

it’s not that he’s completely without happy memories, he just… doesn’t have anything of great enough significance. it’s hardly ghost’s fault his childhood wasn’t what the average person would call good, but it’s a little frustrating that something out of his control is preventing him from casting one of the most important protection spells—especially since becoming an auror.

then he meets soap, a fresh-faced auror with a sunny disposition despite his profession. he’s talented and quick-witted and ghost wants to resent him but it’s impossible.

one day, somehow, the topic of patronuses is brought up. soap talks about it being easy, thinking of a memory. he reminisces about summoning his fox, even demonstrates it to ghost, who watches with a wonder where he’s only ever felt bitter with everyone else.

then soap asks about ghost’s. says that surely he of all people could conjure something, given his abilities and knowledge of many other difficult spells, even the most obscure. but ghost quietly admits that he can’t. never has, and doesn’t know if he ever will.

when ghost’s heartbeat stutters when soap’s face falls, he should have known something was up, then. that he and soap weren’t just friends, colleagues.

he’s heard of patronuses changing when people fall in love, so it isn’t far of a reach to think falling in love would help ghost finally summon one of his own.

so ghost tries again to learn, for soap.

but he keeps failing. why couldn’t he do it?

then they’re working a job, something with little detail reported but far too sinister to ignore. separated during their investigation, they don’t realize the drop in temperature until it’s too late, and ghost finds soap being drained of his happiness. his soul, his radiant joy.

and ghost can’t have that.

he doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he calls out the incantation, and a blinding silver light is produced from his wand tip. ghost hardly has the time to figure out what creature had formed before the dementor has been banished and he’s rushing over to soap, who’s collapsed on the ground.

ghost holds him, even when soap has regathered his bearings, regained his strength. even as soap directs ghost to the spare chocolate he apparently always has on his person for emergency cases like these.

ghost holds him especially when he kisses soap after making sure he was okay.

the case grows into something bigger, after that. but it doesn’t matter—not when ghost has finally found his patronus. not when he could finally protect the ones he loves.

the one he loves.

and he’s never felt stronger.

[semolinapudding]

Floor is lava game with Genshin characters? C:

You didn't specify which so I guess I can choose.

🍮The floor is lava with genshin characters

Venti, Cyno, Tighnari, Wanderer, Xiao, Ayaka, Hu tao.

Venti

He likes games. He also plays hide and seek with Bennet sometimes.

He's gonna tease you with this one, because he can fly himself up with his anemo powers. In fact you feel like is useless to even play this with him.

But he's gonna make this fair for you and not use his anemo powers, in case you don't have an anemo vision or other powers that can allow you to compete with his godly ones.

Once he's not allowed to use Anemo, he's a loser. He panics and can't find a good spot in those 5 seconds. When he does, he manages to fall. He climbed a big barrel of wine, and he was struggling to climb it for a good while, with his foot on the top of it and the other leg hanging. You end up helping him by pushing him by his ass because you have mercy.

He thought he won once and proudly made a "Hehe" sound, just before a cat jumped in his head, hissing.

He's not bad at climbing trees, but the problem is that he can't get down without his Anemo powers.

He's faking that he can't climb places just so that you get to carry him and lift him. And you know that very well.

"I can't climb that. You're not gonna let me die in lava are you? :(("

You can go ahead and princess carry and lift Venti up. You probably only want to play this game for the sake of doing that. You get to touch his thighs pretty often.

"I'll lift you up Venti, don't bother your beautiful princess ankles."

He sprains his ankles.

Climbs the tables at Angel's share and gets beaten up with a broom by Diluc. He just cleaned those.

Also climbs the stair margin at angel's share and he is gliding down on it. Another broom on his back. Those were cleaned.

Cyno

Takes it more seriously than you thought he would.

He starts doing calisthenics on everything, everywhere, anyhow. He'll find a way. Somehow, he'll always find a way to stay suspended in the air.

You thought it would be impossible to play in the plain desert, with only one vertical rock around. What is he gonna do? Glue himself on the rock? There is no way he wou—

His spear is sitting with one part stuck in the sand, the other leaned against the rock, on the spear he's standing in his HANDS in perfect equilibrium, using a lot of muscle groups for that.

The desert is not so fun to play this in. But the forests and cities in Sumeru come with a lot of possibilities.

So he will always hold himself up, dead hanging, if possible, and because you want him to lose and stop being such a perfect calisthener, you grab onto his legs and dead hang too. Good workout. Now forest rangers and akademiya students are gonna walk past you and wonder what are you doing. What is General Mahamatra doing? Must be some serious workout.

It slowly becomes workout routines and you don't even realize it, neither Cyno. You're now doing calisthenics in all kinds of positions.

"Tighnari. There is this new game I like."

He is dead hanging by a tree branch, with you climbed on his legs, and he lifts his legs up, training his legs and abdomen.

Once is your turn, wether you can handle or not, I don't think you can really escape it because he's also gonna dead hang on you.

Tighnari doesn't even bother to bring this up. He ignores when he sees you and Cyno playing floor is lava with calisthenic workouts.

Tighnari

Got lured into the game by seeing you and Cyno go crazy with calisthenics all around the forest, or you convinced him.

"Don't hurt yourself."

Thinks the game is embarrassing at first.

But he's a happy fox, he's not gonna hesitate much if all he has to do is climb trees. He's good at climbing trees. He always climbs random trees at times and Cyno finds him sitting there for no particular reason.

You don't even get to find a place because you already see him up in a tree, staring down at you. He's a winner.

If you get Cyno to play with you two, Tighnari is irritated by Cyno's need to be extra with his calisthenic positions, but secretly, he likes it.

You can dead hang with him too. But he's not got such strength as Cyno to last for a long time if you're hanging by his waist or legs.

He's probably the one used as workout material by both you and Cyno. But he's a sly fox and can use you or Cyno as ladders to climb up trees. Following his own interests. You and Cyno can stay there and die in the lava, together with his jokes and everything. He hits you with the tail in the face by mistake.

You accidentally drop him in the water a few times, and when there's not enough space on a spot, you both trip and fall in the water and he swims out, and had to dry his wet tail. You laugh at his wet tail.

You then get chased by a fox with wet tail.

"I'll show you!"

Wanderer

"What the HELL is that?" You want him to play games with you? "HA! You're such a baby!" He ends up playing it. He's a baby too.

His superiority complex is pleased. He can now just rise himself above you and laugh at you, worm, who's on the ground.

You tell him to play without his anemo powers and he didn't accept it at first.

"The rules are that I don't touch the ground! WHAT DO you want?"

Once you two are playing without powers from visions, he's really agile and fast, but If you follow his place he's gonna push you down so that you fall in the lava. Then he laughs. He's so kind.🩵

He even follows you when there aren't many possibilities around, and he pushes you off! He's definitely putting you as his first priority.🩵

Sits on a Hilichurl tower with his legs crossed like a queen and looks down at you, who didn't manage to climb up. Then a Hilichurl throws an apple in his head.

You push him off as well. You pull him by the legs and grab him off. If you can't win, neither should he. So it turns into stupid fights. You grab him by his clothes and you accidentally almost pull his pants off.

You also grab his foot and the shoe slips off from how much force you were putting into, while he was holding himself by that tree with all the stubbornness in the world.

"That's what you get. Stay with the shoe."

"Now put it back." And Cinderella raises his foot for you to put the shoe on.

Xiao

Oh, another calisthenics practicer.

"Games. You want to play with me..."

He makes a promise that he'll play with you and he keeps it. You tell him the rules, and he finds it fair simple.

"Like mortals. I get it."

He just stands there prepared and waits for you to start.

He's agile and strong and puts too much effort into a simple game, because of getting used to be tense and ready to fight all the time.

"Not gonna leave you die in the lava." And he misses the point of the game by carrying you under his armpit when he finds a spot.

After playing a few times, he becomes the one to ask you to play together, which is unexpected.

"Can we play that game again? I don't remember how it was called."

You watch him doing pull ups on a bar, so you're now going crazy to hold yourself by his waist and him to easily do pull ups with you.

When it's about moving around without touching the ground, he jumps. And if the distance is too long or high for you, he's gonna carry you.

Xiao is more of a parkour practicer, like Spider-man, like Batman at night.

He is moving from hand to hand on high up bridges with wood planks.

He doesn't stand in place, he's fast. He's pole vaulting his way, Pole vault which is a sport in which you jump high with the help of a long stick.

Ayaka

If you're happy, she is happy so she doesn't mind playing with you.

She uses her ice vision to make an ice platform under the ground.

"This is not how we play? But is ice. Ice beats lava."

Instead of you two picking up different spots, fate makes it that you both choose the same one by coincidence, and you just awkwardly run together and climb together. And the coincidence keeps repeating, she's just thinking of the same thing as you.

She's a warrior with a katana so she must be physically strong enough to climb up high places.

She falls on you once. Didn't expect her to feel that heavy.

Then she comes with the idea of stepping in water. She can't lose if she's in water. You cry when you see her in the water with the socks on.

You end up racing with her to who goes first to climb up trees.

She wants to lift you up by your waist so that you reach first. Not that you can't climb on your own, she just likes to lift you.

Hu tao

She's the lava in the game.

She is making fire on the ground just to scare you, because is funny.

"Ashes to ashes! There's a 10% funeral discount if you are ashes."

She is the one to count and it makes you run for your life. She runs after you and you scream and then she screams and you scream again.

You climb on the same spot as her and she shakes you until you fall. Making things interesting.

"Come on! Let's climb the abandoned haunted houses at night and whoever doesn't climb in time has to take a back slap from the other."

You get back slapped because you didn't climb in time. Her palm is heavy.

The house roof is old and the tiles slide down with her, making noises that awakes the grumpy old man that lives near.

She swings on trees branches and stands upside down. You climb trees and houses together and is hard to get down everytime.

She lets her imagination run wild and rushes you to climb faster because the lava is coming from the east.

"We need to climb higher! The lava is raising, Liyue is covered! There is no escape, but to spend our night time on the roof till sunrise!"

You both try to move without interacting with the ground, jumping from rock to rock, using her spear to jump, walking on the margins of the houses.

If she fails she's gonna get in her role, all dramatic, and say that she's dead in the lava now. Soap opera.

People are looking at you both running in the streets of Liyue because apparently lava is soon coming to drown the city.

🍮Author's note: Happy Saturday Easter for Orthodox! I am planning on finishing all the requests soon.

I went all over myself with calisthenics and sports there. Couldn't help it. I had to do the calisthenic practicer Cyno master daddy.

[vodika-vibes]

Follow You Anywhere

Summary: Fox never thought that happiness was written in the stars for him. Especially after he became head of the Coruscant Guard. Then he met Yuu, and suddenly happiness doesn’t seem so impossible.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Yuu (GN OC)

Word Count: 1496

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things @clonethirstingisreal

A/N: So, for anyone who might not know, Yuu is afab who identifies as gender neutral and uses they/them pronouns. They are also the personal assistant of Chancellor Palpatine, and are in charge of the Coruscant Guard to "help take some of the stress off the Chancellor's shoulders". The only people who refer to Yuu as she/her are Palpatine and Anakin. Palpatine because he's an asshole, and Anakin because he listens to Palpatine before he listens to Yuu. Also, I said I was going to write this and now I have and I am happy. Happy-ish. My entire face hurts.

Fox doesn’t think that he’s a very reflective man.

With the way that the majority of the Senators treat him and his brothers, not to mention the way the people of Coruscant look at the vod’e, and the things that he’s had to do just to stay alive—

Well, if he thinks about it too much, he’d grow to hate himself.

But sometimes, just sometimes, he does reflect on the decisions he’s made.

Amusingly, he finds himself more reflective when he’s here, safely stretched out in Yuu’s bed, draped in their ridiculously fuzzy blankets, and sinking in their dozens of pillows. 

There’s just something about Yuu’s space that makes him reflective. Maybe it’s because he views it as a safe place, or maybe because the entire apartment just radiates the same energy that Yuu does.

Whatever the case might be, Fox is glad for it.

Cody’s always claimed that self-reflection is the key to bettering yourself as a person, and while Fox is still of the opinion that that’s Jedi bullshit, even he has to admit that he’s become a better version of himself now that he has time to think.

As much as Yuu has given him so much more to worry about, they’ve also given him someplace where he can grow. And he loves them for it. Not that he’s ever going to say that to them.

They already have an overinflated ego, the last thing he wants to to make their head swell even more. 

Now that he’s thinking about it, Yuu isn’t in bed next to him. 

Fox turns his head to the side, scanning the bed where Yuu would normally be curled up against his side. The sheets are cool to the touch, and he makes a face.

Clearly, he spent far too much time lost in his thoughts if he didn’t even notice that Yuu wasn’t in bed anymore. 

Fox kicks the blankets off the end of the bed, making a mental note to make the bed at a late point in time since Yuu won’t, and he swings his legs off the edge of the bed.

He runs his fingers through his curls, messing up his already messy hair even more, and then he gets to his feet. Fox scans the floor for a moment, his gaze jumping from article of clothing to article of clothing, until he finds the dark red sleep pants that Yuu had enthusiastically removed the night before.

Tossed over their lamp, of course. 

He shakes his head, sometimes he thinks that Yuu does stuff like that intentionally.

He grabs the pants and pulls them on, then he scans the room one more time. 

They really need to clean the room.

Oh, it’s not messy. It’s just that Yuu can’t be assed to put their clothes away, preferring to leave them folded on the dresser. Also, they have a lot of stuff.

Maybe he’ll offer to help organize the mess at some point. 

Maybe.

Fox shakes his head, and kicks a pile of Yuu’s work clothes over next to the laundry basket before he opens the bedroom door and heads into the main part of the apartment.

Even without knowing what time it is, he knows exactly where Yuu is going to be.

He meanders down the short hall and turns into the living room, and there they are. Standing in the kitchen, hands on their hips, clad in one of his old shirts and shorts, feet bare.

And their short hair covered in dye.

He can smell the dye from the couch.

“What color are we going this week?” Fox asks as he walks around the couch to get a better look at the dye in their hair, “I liked the red.”

“You,” Yuu turns and points at him dramatically, “Have a thing for me in red.”

“Guilty as charged.” Fox replies with a shrug, “Can’t help it. I’m a weak man.” He walks over to them and leans down to carefully brush his lips against theirs.

The gentle touch is rewarded with a soft sigh, and Fox can’t help the soft laugh that falls from him at the sound. When he pulls away, Yuu looks almost misty-eyed, and Fox laughs a little more.

“Ah, you’re so pathetic for me, little bird.”

They pout and press their hands against their cheeks, “I can’t help it, I have a soft spot for men who are also hot messes.”

“Good thing I have that particular character trait covered.” Fox teases before he takes their hand, “Nail polish?”

“I started and then got bored. I don’t have enough colors.”

“...you own all of the colors.”

“I need more.”

“Are you sure you’re not actually a hummingbird disguised as a person?” Fox asks as he examines the three nails that are painted, all of which are different colors.

“Oh no. You caught me.” Yuu twists their hand and threads their fingers with his, “As for your earlier question…I’m going orange and pink. With some red and purple.”

“Hm, colorful.” 

“I’m going to look like the sunset.”

“Ah, so you’re going to be even more stunning than you already are.” Fox teases.

Yuu grins up at him, and stands on their toes to comb the fingers of their free hand through the curls at his temple, “You should let me give you some color, Foxy.”

“Hard pass.”

“Thorn let me.”

“Thorn seems physically incapable of saying no to you.” Fox points out, “And I, my colorful little bird, have no problems saying no to you.”

They seem unphased with his refusal, not that Fox thought that they would be bothered at all. They never are.

“There’s caf in the carafe,” Yuu says, dropping the topic with an easy shrug, “And I made muffins.”

“How long have you been awake?”

They shrug, “Couple of hours, you were sleeping and it looked like you needed it.”

“I did need it, actually.” He agrees as he turns to pull a rainbow mug from the cabinet, “Why don’t you have any normal mugs?”

“What is normal, exactly?”

He shoots them an amused look, “Mugs that I would be able to use in front of a Senator without them commenting on me being your boy toy.”

“You’re my favorite boy toy,” Yuu counters with a wide grin.

“Mm, and I love you for it.”

Their grin widens, but there’s also something soft in their gaze. That’s one of the nice things about Yuu, Fox thinks as he pours himself some caf, he never has to worry about where he stands with them.

“I love you too, Foxy,”

He sets his mug on the counter and allows Yuu to slide into his arms, “I know you do, little bird. I’ve never doubted that.” Fox presses a light kiss to their forehead, “Not even when you pile more work on me.”

They release a happy hum and press their nose against his chest, before pulling away to not worry about getting dye on his skin, “I repainted your armor.” They say cheerfully, “It’s in the guest room.”

Fox blinks at them, “When did you have time to do that?”

“This morning.”

“So you’ve had time to dye your hair, paint three of your nails, and paint my armor. Someone’s feeling productive this morning.”

There’s a flicker of some uncertainty on their face, but it vanishes almost as soon as it appears.

“What’s on your mind, little bird?” Fox murmurs, “You’ve never been one to not speak your mind.”

“I was thinking,” Yuu says slowly, “That maybe if you want, we can go on a date. After I wash the dye out of my hair and get dressed and stuff, obviously.”

Fox lightly settles his hands on their hips, “And why would you be nervous about asking me that? I’ve never denied you a date before.”

They shrug, “Most of the time it’s me dragging you somewhere and you being too nice to say no.” Yuu pauses for a moment, “Besides, I want to go on a proper date. Not just an adventure.”

Fox hums thoughtfully, and then he slides his hands from their hips, up their sides, over their shoulders, and cups their face, “Then let me speak plainly. Yuu, I would follow you into hell if you asked it of me.”

“That seems silly.”

“I love you.” Fox says quietly, “I would give you the galaxy on a silver platter if you asked for it.”

Yuu stares at him, momentarily surprised, and then they laugh and raise on their toes to kiss him, “I love you. Help me wash the dye out of my hair?”

“Let me finish my caf?”

They bump their nose against his, “Anything you want, Foxy.”

And Fox doesn’t bother to smother his smile as he crashes his lips against theirs. Happiness might not have been written in his story when he was decanted…but Yuu prefers to write their own stories, and he couldn’t be happier about it if he tried.

[jonnylovers-in-neverland]

Exclusive: Coldplay: “When things appear overwhelmingly positive, that’s often because it’s what the singer needs most”

In his first and only written interview for their new album, frontman Chris Martin tells NME about how ‘Moon Music’ walked him through dark times, the humility of knowing his place, and the end of Coldplay as we know it

An interview by Andrew Trendell (October 1st, 2024)

As affable as Chris Martin is famed to be, today, he isn’t quite in the headspace to open up about Coldplay’s upcoming 10th album, ‘Moon Music’. At least, not at first. With this being his first interview for the record, he hasn’t yet verbally delved into the emotional genesis of the life-affirming opus. Forever self-deprecating, he doesn’t want to seem “pretentious” or to pretend to appear “cooler than he really is” – “especially in the NME!” he laughs.

“I don’t know if I want to put myself on that chopping block right now,” he admits, talking via Zoom from the band’s LA studio. “I’ve gotten worse and worse at describing songs over the years. I’d rather they just spoke for themselves.”

Still, warm with a smile, he finds his bearings via some pleasantries and invites us into an extended chat. It’s what you’d expect from the Coldplay frontman – tender and guarded, yet still the genial master of ceremonies; the shy, nerdy indie kid who conquered the world one stadium at a time and recently held Glastonbury in the palm of his hand. Loaded with impossibly good vibes and even a bloody Michael J Fox cameo, their record-breaking fifth headline slot saw Worthy Farm’s house band deliver a blockbuster set that bordered on the surreal. Sure, it was a lot and the show had its critics, but Martin doesn’t care.

“Right now, and since about 2008, if something lands in me as a song or as a good idea and it feels authentic, we’ll do it,” he admits. “It doesn’t matter what anybody else thinks. It’s very liberating, and it was probably started by Brian Eno’s philosophy when he came in to rebuild us. Since then, if I find something true and exciting, then we’ll go for it. It has led us to some really weird and amazing places.”

He continues: “In a way, [Fox] being there at Glastonbury reminded us what the whole spirit of the band and the festival is: trying to find the joy. And when you can’t find it, you need to have some good tools to go looking for it.”

Ever since Eno produced their fourth album ‘Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends’, the band have been driven by his commandments to remain “true, curious and open-minded”. That’s all been building up to ‘Moon Music’: a record made to “find the joy” and pumped full of enough of that stadium-filling loving feeling to make it the most ‘Coldplay’ Coldplay album.“That’s a nice way to describe it,” replies Martin. “It’s nice to be both an adjective and a noun, but I think we’ve earned that privilege!”

The last time NME spoke to Martin, we found him getting through a “questioning time of his life” as he overcame a “really hard time” of existential crisis with his past and the wider world. Do overly joyous acts like Glastonbury and this album help him make sense of all that?

“Yes, in the context of, ‘It’s very easy to be not happy’,” says Martin. “In a way, it’s a band manifesto: These are the things that helped me every day to not be super overwhelmed or super down.

“When things appear overwhelmingly positive, that’s so often because it’s what the singer needs most. My head tends to fill with so much negativity that over the years – in fact from the very beginning – music has been the place where I find a light and an explanation for some of the more challenging things in my life, or the people’s lives that I see.”

The path to the bright side runs throughout ‘Moon Music’. The gossamer opening title track finds Martin “trying to trust in the heaven’s above”, asking, “Is anyone out there? I’m close to the end… I just need a friend”. Via the state of the nation address of ‘We Pray’, the Lennon-indebted open-hearted anthem ‘All My Love’ and the cinematic full-stop of ‘One World’, he travels the gamut and eventually concludes that “in the end, it’s just love”.

As Martin puts it: “‘Moon Music’ is kind of the story of waking up in the morning and feeling terrible about yourself, terrible about the world – depressed, isolated, separate, alone, and not able to be yourself.

“Through the album, it’s a journey to feeling the complete opposite at the end of the day.”

TThe boundaries of Coldplay aren’t fixed to Martin and his university pals Jonny Buckland, Guy Berryman, and Will Champion. Ever since Rihanna jumped on ‘Princess Of China’ back in 2011, the band have opened up their prism of pop to feature the likes of Tove Lo, Selena Gomez, Jacob Collier and K-pop powerhouse BTS across their records.

‘Moon Music’ is no different, with guest turns from Little Simz, Burna Boy, Elyanna, Tini and Ayra Starr – all helmed by producer and pop Midas, Max Martin. “I would say that the audition process for songs is really hard now, because Max Martin is here,” offers Martin. “For any of the songs to get on the album, they had to go through a sort of X Factor 2010 audition process.”

Is the Coldplay frontman more of a Simon Cowell or Louis Walsh?

“I think I’m a cross between the two – with a bit of Sharon maybe!”

Now there’s an image. Anyway, Afrobeats don Starr passed her audition to feature on the disco-indebted ‘Good Feelings’ with flying colours. The song is inspired by Jonas Carpignano’s acclaimed film Mediterranea – the story of two migrant friends who leave Africa and cross the sea to find a new life in Italy.

“The song is really supposed to be a phone call between a couple that’s separated by an ocean,” Martin tells us. “All of our royalties from that song are going to refugee charity Choose Love. Like you said, it’s a very ‘Coldplay’ Coldplay album, so even when we’re singing about extremely stressful situations, it’s important to me that it’s still trying to find the light in that situation.

“In my experience, criticising and aggressively accusing hasn’t worked, so I’d rather look at a situation that is very difficult and see a hope in there somewhere.”

Martin chose Starr to be the voice on the end of the line because, “Number one: she’s brilliant, and number two: she’s Nigerian. It would maybe work with an English person, but it wouldn’t be the same.” The remits for guesting on ‘Moon Music’ were simple: “Is it the person the song wants?”, “Is it someone Coldplay can give wider exposure to?”, and “Do they come from a completely different place to us?”

“On our records, we’re covered for middle-aged white guys,” the frontman admits. “We don’t need any more of them, really. It’s fun to expand the band into other cultures, countries, genders and sexualities. That’s really what we believe in.”

It all comes back again to authenticity. Take ‘We Pray’ – a cross-cultural, genre-defying battle cry against an increasingly hostile and divisive world in the hope that “love will shelter us from our fears”. It’s a message that means a whole lot more coming from Mercury-winning British rap icon Little Simz, Nigerian juggernaut Burna Boy, Palestinian-Chilean musician Elyanna and Argentinian singer Tini rather than a middle-aged white guy. “It would just fall apart if it didn’t have the others on,” says Martin.

Aware of their privilege, Coldplay take the time to host a party with local talent whenever they visit another country. “It’s amazing how much talent there is everywhere,” says Martin of their United Nations of pop. “It’s also humbling because you realise that we are beneficiaries of having been born English and being able to play everywhere. That comes off the back of extraordinarily awful colonialism.

“Any thought that we’re just a special group of people… just no. We’re just ordinary humans like everybody else, who happen to be born here where the language that we sing in happens to be understood in more countries than Finnish is. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

The more artists they meet, the more enter the Coldplay universe, “because it reflects the actual world”. Adopting a love of K-pop from his goddaughter and, by his own admission, NME coverage, the band had BTS feature on ‘My Universe’ from prequel album ‘Music Of The Spheres’. To Martin, it’s a natural fit. “It’s not My Bloody Valentine, it’s not indie, but it’s equally great because they’re passionate, driven people working in a way that we couldn’t do. We’re lucky that we get to mix it all together.”

He devours music. During our chat, he waxes lyrical about discovering Kneecap through NME, the “genius” of Peggy Gou and his love of the new Bad Seeds album, ‘Wild God’. “Do you want me to show you something really funny?” he asks after discussing the latter, before quickly disappearing off camera for a good minute or more, gleefully returning with an upsettingly creepy life-size puppet of Nick Cave that he fetches from his closet. For context, Martin tells us, the band’s studios are adorned with plenty to inspire them – from Nelson Mandela sketches and paintings from his mother’s native Zimbabwe to words of wisdom from collaborators. Then, there’s this. “Isn’t that cool?” he chuckles. “That’s our Nick Cave idol. I have to keep it hidden, because it scares people if it’s late at night.”

Effigies aside, Martin looks to others to keep him on his toes. Take Fontaines D.C., for example. “With competitiveness and professional jealousy, I feel very lucky that it very quickly alchemises into just being inspired by someone and then being a fan of them,” he says, buzzing with admiration. “When Fontaines or Little Simz come along, you’re just reminded that you can never phone it in. Even if you’re making something that you think no one is going to like, you have to be so sure that you do, and that you poured every last ounce of energy into it.

“You know that when they made ‘Starburster’, no one was phoning that in. When I hear that song or IDLES, I’m like, ‘Shit!’ We’re not just talking about bands; we’re talking about Chappell Roan, Sabrina Carpenter, Beyoncé – anyone that you can feel is just working so hard.”

His love of IDLES was even rewarded when, earlier this year, frontman Joe Talbot asked if they could take the ��Yellow’ video and transform it with AI so it looks like Martin is singing along to ‘Grace’ for a music video. “I said, ‘Joe, are you sure you want to do this with Coldplay? You’re in IDLES!’” he laughs. “But I find that what’s so beautiful about the music community now – there tends to be much more love and respect among artists, regardless of genre, just based on talent and truth.”

Most bands have had their fair share of feuds in their day, but Martin hasn’t got time for the drama. “I’m sorry, this is why I feel bad talking to NME, because beef is your bread and butter!” He’s right, and we’re always hungry. “We don’t do beef,” he apologises. “I tried beef once in the NME where I said one mean thing about [Primal Scream’s] Bobby Gillespie in the year 2000 and I still feel terrible about it. I would apologise to him if I saw him. I’m just not a beefer!”

Even Liam Gallagher, who once said Martin “looks like a geography teacher” and that he found Coldplay fans to be “boring and ugly and don’t look like they’re having a good time”, has mellowed. They came together for a monumental and emotional performance of ‘Live Forever’ at Ariana Grande’s One Love Manchester concert in 2017, and the Oasis frontman told him: “I take back everything I ever said about you.”

“I’ve always loved Liam,” smiles Martin. “He blows hot and cold, but he’s always free to come round my house for tea and we’ll have lasagne…”

It won’t surprise you to learn that self-confessed fanboy Martin is also rather excited about Oasis’ supersonic return next year. “That reunion showed what music is all about,” he tells us. “It just exists to make people happy; for the people that want it. I felt really great that they decided to do that.”

Of course, not everyone was happy – many fans were left furious at being kept in online ticket queues for hours to be met with inflated costs due to dynamic pricing. The band say they had nothing to do with the decision, and it’s currently under official investigation. Coldplay are having none of that. In fact, their upcoming UK stadium shows – including a record-breaking 10-night run at Wembley – will see 10 per cent of the band’s profits going to the Music Venue Trust.

The charity have been campaigning for a mandatory levy for £1 of every ticket sold to a gig at arena level and above to go back into the grassroots, at a time when the scene faces “disaster” with around two venues closing per week in the UK. Enter Shikari took it upon themselves to do it, and now Coldplay are taking it to the next level. “The band’s support really will stop venues closing, make tours happen and bring the joy of live music to thousands of people,” said MVT CEO Mark Davyd. Even if you hate Coldplay, you can’t deny this is a classy move.

Martin tells us that he put his plan into action when he became aware of the situation at the tail-end of last year. “I’d just assumed The Leicester Charlotte would be fine,” he says. “I didn’t think there was an issue because I didn’t think about it. It was around COVID that you started to hear about this or that venue having to close. I thought, ‘Oh, we played all those venues, Oasis played all those venues – these are important’.”

Does it bother him that if venues continue to disappear, we may never see another Coldplay?

“I think a lot of people would be happy about that! The truth is that playing live is an important connection. It doesn’t bother me that there might not be another Coldplay, but it does bother me that there might not be acts that are free to start on the bottom rung and work all the way up – so that by the time they get to stadiums, they are really good. You can’t just jump into that. With all of the artists that are playing stadiums next year, it’s no coincidence that all of them started in a van, driving around and playing pubs: Oasis, Coldplay, Ed Sheeran, the truth is all there. Taylor Swift has probably played more than anyone in tiny Nashville venues and county fairs.”

And, as Teesside noiseniks Benefits once put it, there’s nothing wrong with staying on the third rung.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with staying on the first rung either. Our first tour manager, God bless him, was happiest with a bag of trucker’s speed, some beer, £50 profit and a sticky floor. As soon as I started talking about having a piano, he was out! And that’s great.”

This tour also marks the beginning of the end, of sorts. The last time Martin spoke to NME, he said that Coldplay would release their final album in 2025, later revealing a plan for the band’s catalogue to end after 12 albums. Well, we’re one year off now, is that still the plan?

“Yes, it is 12 albums for sure, but we’re going to be a bit later than that,” he says. “There’s one more thing, which is a musical. [That’s] album number 11, but that might have to come out after album 12 because of how long musicals take to animate.

“Our last single is on this album, and that’s called ‘All My Love’. That’s the last ‘single’ single. We have the musical thing, then an album just called ‘Coldplay’, which is the final one. I think that will be a year late – I know it will be.”

Now at 47 years old, having a finish line in sight for Martin is only adding to his compulsion to make the most of the final lap. “The 12 album thing is very real, and it’s a nice feeling,” he tells us. “It doesn’t mean we won’t tour or finish some compilation things or outtakes or whatever. It just means that the main story is told. That’s just what feels really right. Just knowing that’s happening supercharges all the work we’re doing now.

“A combination of that 12 album deadline plus working with Max Martin means that we’re approaching everything with the same, if not more, hunger than right at the beginning. You don’t want to dilute the early stuff too much.”

Admitting that “it’s not about achievement anymore”, the frontman feels driven by the question of “what are we supposed to do” and promises that by the time the arc is complete and the 12th album is out there “everything will make sense”.

“To the people that might be freaked out when you do a song with BTS, or freaked out when we dropped the acoustic guitar: don’t worry, it’ll all make sense in the end,” he promises to the fans still pining for “when they woz good” back in the days of ‘Yellow’ and ‘Shiver’.

And what will life look like for Coldplay and Chris Martin after that final album?

“Touring, curating. What Liam [Gallagher] has just done with ‘Definitely Maybe’ has reignited that album. We will get to a point where it will be fun to not re-release but remember the earlier stuff and enjoy it again and do things specific to those periods. I have an idea for another type of show that’s more of a hotch-potch of everything. Maybe it’s not always about trying to be in stadiums, but you can do small things where you try and play the odd songs. I think it would also be nice to help younger artists a bit.”

There you have it, folks – the plan for the end of the multi-million album-shifting Coldplay machine as you know it. And Martin is very much looking forward to spending his latter years in the backseat. “It’s like when someone becomes a football pundit and stops trying to score goals,” he says, excited about becoming the Gary Lineker of music, albeit without the crisps. “I feel that within a few years, it might go a bit more that way for myself. Not right now. Right now I’m super hungry and so excited to go to work every day. It’s such a clear picture of what we’re supposed to be doing.”

You can see why he’s reticent to talk about the inspiration behind his music, especially when it’s the means to an end of a coping mechanism – and now it’s a very real end. Coldplay has given Chris Martin a home, a purpose, a tonic, and a galaxy of fans, artists and friends as his family. As he sang on debut album ‘Parachutes’’ opening track ‘Don’t Panic’: “All that I know, there’s nothing here to run from, because everybody here’s got somebody to lean on”.

“Finishing on ‘Moon Music’, I’m so grateful for the people around this album and the songs that have arrived,” ends Martin. “I don’t know where they come from, I never know where they come from, but I’m like, ‘Wow, we’ve finally got an album that I wouldn’t be embarrassed to put in the same room as my favourite albums.”