#chasing dawn the alters

[bunnidid-reviews]

I just finished Chasing Dawn (The Alters) by Terra Katherine McKeown  and aaaaaa!!!!

aaaaaaa!!!!! It so good!!!!

I don't have the time right now to write up the review, but if you want a thrilling urban fantasy with a really cool take on DID and magic, please check this out, it's so so cool!!! I am Hooked! I Am Compelled! In less pages than other certain books I've read, I'm so much more connected to each of the alters and their personal journies, as well as the magical lore.

If you check it out, please be mindful that there's some detailed fight scenes that get pretty bloody, implied sexual abuse and a chapter detailing ritual abuse(the chapter is titled Sigils and Scars Faded). I'll do a more detailed TW list when I can write my review

But yeah!!!! I loved this one

[vivmaek]

LUNAR PHASES

The moon acts as a guiding light within the night sky and humans have used it to orient themselves within time and space since the dawn of our existence. However, our connection to the moon goes beyond practicality. Looking up at the moon evokes a sense of comfort, and its beauty is inspirational. As much as our planet has changed, for better or for worse, the moon remains consistent with its cycles. This sense of stability offers us wisdom, and each period of the lunar cycle represents a different stage of growth.  I was inspired to write this post after reading a fascinating article that is titled, “Effects of different phases of the lunar month on humans.” The Author, Ujjwal Chakraborty, explored the ways in which the lunar cycle exerts influence upon human psychology and physiology. Chakraborty states, “The altered autonomic neural activity and cardiovascular activity during different lunar phases is probably one of the fundamental causes of the changes of human physiology.”(2014) The autonomic nervous system regulates heart rate, digestion, respiration, blood pressure, and sexual arousal. Any changes that occurs within the autonomic nervous system is going to affect human behavior. To see a spiritual phenomenon be explained through scientific research is incredibly thought provoking; this leads me to believe that the spiritual meanings attached to each lunar phase must hold a certain amount of truth to them. If anyone is interested, the article can be found here. Chakraborty has a few other articles dedicated to lunar research that are also quite compelling. If this information intrigues you, I’d recommend looking into “The Transylvania Effect.”  

I. Lunar Phase Personalities

Click here to calculate the lunar phase you were born under.

✰ New Moon - Individuals born under this phase tend to be psychic and are gifted in their ability to acknowledge the unseen. They represent new beginnings and trust their inner instincts. This can make them rather impulsive at times. New moon babies seek out adventure and are dedicated to the process of learning. They want to experience all that life has to offer them and are not afraid to dream big. This is the only phase of the moon that is absent of light, and because of this new moon babies naturally stand out from the rest. They also make for efficient leaders because their emotions and ego are in alignment. However, they’re not the types to seek attention and would prefer to work behind the scenes. Their introverted qualities and reserved nature spark a lot of intrigue. People born under this phase can find potential within any endeavor and always have a fresh perspective to offer up. Learning how to embrace the unknown is a major life lesson for these types. 

✰ Waxing Crescent - These types can appear timid, but once you get to know them they are incredibly lively individuals who are full of curiosity. They prefer to stick to the things that they know and might struggle with accepting change. People born under a waxing crescent moon might get stuck within the past at times. Being courageous is something they struggle with. However, they still feel a desire to go out and explore, but they will approach these adventures with a practical mindset. Waxing crescent babies are attached to their comfort zone and are good at maintaining this even when chasing after new experiences. They are also good at finding the right people to associate with. Security is everything to these types, and they prefer to build deep relationships with people who will be in their life for a very long time. I’ve noticed that these individuals might feel more awkward than they come across. They are perfectionist and struggle with self criticism, they might get stuck within their own head during social exchanges. 

✰ First Quarter - There are not many individuals born under a first quarter moon, which makes these types out to be rather unique. These people are the “main characters,” and they know it. They are not afraid to take charge of their own lives and are highly ambitious. Individuals born under this phase are not dependent upon admiration or attention. The only person they’re looking to impress is themselves. First quarter babies embrace challenges. The more challenges a situation throws at them, the more likely they are to succeed. The type of person  who never backs down, they love putting their skills and talents to the test. Someone looking for a solution is going to be drawn to an individual born under a first quarter moon. Their strong personalities invoke action within other people and they serve as a source of inspiration. These individuals become unstoppable once they develop patience and learn how to wait. 

✰ Waxing Gibbous - A sense of maturity is immediately evident within these individuals. They are natural caretakers and people often seek them out to be nurtured. Waxing gibbous babies have a calm presence that elicits a sense of peace within others. These types maneuver social situations with grace and making friends comes easy to them. They inspire other people to be better, and some might try to emulate them. Other people notice their potential and can see what they’re capable of achieving, but individuals born under this phase struggle to see it within themselves. They might feel life they somehow always fall short or will tell themselves that they are not “enough.” This is the opposite of how people are perceiving them. They must learn how to care for themselves in the same way they care for other people. Developing a deep sense of self love is vital for waxing gibbous babies. 

✰ Full Moon - Individuals born under this phase are filled to the brim with energy. They might come across as more aggressive than they intend to be. Learning how to gain control over their emotions is a major life lesson for these types. Full moon babies might feel as though they are being pulled in two opposite directions. Their ego and emotions are not in alignment, they feel stuck between passion and logic. Sometimes they will chase after their desires even if that's not what's actually best for them. They can see themselves going in many different directions and it can be hard for them to choose just one. This indecisive behavior frustrates other people, especially those who depend on them. These individuals will find more success once they develop a sense of consistency within their lives. Their sense of creativity is deserving of focus and should not be overlooked. As much as their spontaneous nature might frustrate people, they also bring with them a sense of excitement and this is greatly appreciated. 

✰ Waning Gibbous - People born under this phase are often sought after for their wisdom and ability to teach. These old souls are great at communicating their thoughts and learning comes easy to them. It is unlikely that they will have to be taught the same lesson twice, they are not the types to make the same mistakes over and over again. However, being judgmental of others may be a struggle. These individuals need to understand that not everyone is going to learn as quickly as they do. They might become frustrated watching their friends running into the same issues over and over again and will offer up unsolicited advice. It would be best to let people come to them, people will ask for help if they need it. These types tend to place themselves within positions of authority and might struggle with their listening skills. They’re often caught lecturing people when really they should be listening. 

✰ Third Quarter - These types are sentimental individuals who are capable of finding deep meaning within everyday life. They hold an appreciation for the little things and show gratitude for what they have. Third quarter babies become easily attached, it can be hard for them to move on from the past. They take things slowly and aren’t likely to be caught up within a rush. Their loyalty is often taken for granted, as well as their kindness. They are commonly found within their own little world. Nostalgia maintains a strong hold upon these types. However, this connection to the past can create unpleasantries within their present life. They may be quick to forgive, but that doesn't mean they’re over it. Sometimes this can be unfair, third quarter babies need to learn how to let go of the past when it's for the best. 

✰ Waning Crescent - The ultimate day dreamers. Waning crescent babies have an extremely active imagination and are highly creative. They often have visions of what's to come and very little takes them by surprise. People are drawn to their deep insight and are attracted to their unconventional personalities. These types have a mystical presence, it seems as if they are from another world. Their opinions are uniquely theirs, which can sometimes lead to them being outcasted. However, they thrive when alone and oftentimes complete their best creative work during these moments. Throughout life, they remain true to themselves and are not afraid to embrace their eccentric qualities. They have lots of unconventional wisdom to offer. Many of these types are psychic and are in touch with the spiritual realm, but don’t quite realize this. Learning to embrace and trust their intuition is a big lesson for these types. 

II. Living in Alignment with the Lunar Cycle

✰ New Moon - Plant your seeds. This is a time to set new intentions and begin new projects. Take it easy by planning a relaxing night in so you can get in touch with yourself. Forget about the past so you can focus on what's best for the present moment. Journal about your hopes and dreams and think about the steps you can take within the next week to get closer to your desires. Burn a white candle, and incorporate the smell of tangerine, lemon, and jasmine into your routine. 

✰ Waxing Crescent Moon - This is the time to be productive. Make sure to partake in healthy habits, give yourself an extra hour of sleep by going to bed early. Continue to build upon the goals you set for yourself during the new moon. Practice meditation to remain focused within daily life. Eat a meal that would be beneficial for your health. Burn a green candle and incorporate the smell of bergamot, cedarwood, and ginger into your routine. 

✰ First Quarter Moon - Take time to focus on what's working for you and what isn’t. What tweeks need to be made within your daily routines and habits? Try to complete any tasks you’ve been putting off under this lunar phase. Go for a walk and listen to music that energizes you. Burn a red candle and incorporate the smell of patchouli, lemon and ylang ylang into your routine. 

✰ Waxing Gibbous Moon - Practice patience and journal about the times in your life in which you persevered. Focus on the progress you’ve made thus far and show gratitude for what you have. Try to complete whatever preparations are needed for the next few days so they will run more smoothly. Burn a yellow candle and incorporate the smell of rose or juniper into your routine. 

✰ Full Moon - Celebrate all the work you’ve completed by doing activities that bring you happiness. Have a fun night out with friends, take yourself out to your favorite restaurant. This would be a good time to focus on socialization. Make an effort to show your friends and family  some love. Burn a pink candle and incorporate the smell of sandalwood, cardamom and cinnamon into your routine. 

✰ Waning Gibbous Moon - Take time to reflect on the lessons you’ve learned within the past couple weeks. This would be a great time to declutter your space. Make an effort to let go of any disappointment or minor inconveniences that have been bothering you. Be kind to yourself and journal about the opportunities certain failures have brought you. Burn a light blue candle and incorporate the smell of lavender and tea tree into your routine. 

✰ Last Quarter Moon - Remove yourself from your burdens by engaging your mind with relaxing activities. This would be a good time to sit within nature. Read a book, watch one of your favorite tv shows or movies. Journal about recent frustrations so you can get them off your chest. Practice forgiveness for yourself and for others. Burn an indigo candle and incorporate the smell of peppermint and eucalyptus into your routine. 

✰ Waning Crescent Moon - Prepare yourself a comfort meal and draw a hot bath. Stretch your body and practice breathing exercises. Give yourself a massage or ask someone else to give you one. Focus on what you are drawn to as well as the desires that are developed while in a state of relaxation, try to write them down. Burn a purple candle and incorporate the smell of frankincense, sage, and lavender. 

[latenightreadingpdf]

Masked Affection - Adrian Chase

Summary: Y/N navigates the chaos of a small Italian restaurant and forms an unexpected bond with her coworker Adrian, unaware of his alter ego, Vigilante. When she's attacked, Vigilante saves her, sparking a tangled tale of secrets and forbidden love.

In the bustling chaos of Fennel Fields, a small Italian restaurant with more character than class, Y/N found herself navigating the intricate dance of waitressing. It was a job she had taken up recently, and while the ambiance was anything but glamorous, she was determined to make the most of it.

However, amidst the clattering of dishes and hurried footsteps, one name seemed to echo through the restaurant more than others: Adrian Chase. Her coworkers, in their own colorful way, had painted a portrait of him as an enigma, a figure of both intrigue and caution. They warned her about his eccentricities, his odd mannerisms, but Y/N dismissed their warnings with a shrug. After all, how strange could one busboy be?

It wasn't until she spotted him for the first time, amidst the chaos of the kitchen, that Y/N felt a flutter of curiosity. There he was, Adrian, with his tousled curls and endearing clumsiness. As she approached him to introduce herself, a smile tugged at her lips. "Hey there, I'm Y/N. You must be Adrian, right?"

Adrian, in a moment of awkward panic, attempted nonchalance, only to stumble over his own feet in the process. Y/N couldn't help but chuckle, charmed by his adorable mishap.

As weeks passed and shifts blurred into one another, Y/N found herself drawn to Adrian's company. Despite his quirks and the jokes that often flew over his head, she made sure he felt included, defending him against the barbs of others with unwavering loyalty.

Yet, it was on a fateful night, as Y/N made her way home through dimly lit streets, that her world collided with chaos once more. She found herself accosted by a group of menacing figures, their intentions clear as they brandished a gleaming knife.

Just as fear threatened to consume her, a masked figure emerged from the shadows, a silent guardian in the night. With swift and decisive action, he killed her attackers, leaving Y/N stunned in his wake.

Gratitude flooded her as she thanked her mysterious savior, unaware that behind the mask lay the familiar face of Adrian Chase. His heart raced beneath the guise of Vigilante, torn between the desire to reveal himself and the fear of the consequences.

Y/N quickly noticed that he was hurt during the fight and insisted on tending to his wounds, Vigilante hesitated, his secret identity hanging in the balance. Yet, drawn by an inexplicable longing to know her more deeply, he followed her home, allowing her to patch him up in the quiet sanctuary of her living room.

While Y/N is rummaging through her first aid supplies, Vigilante takes a moment to observe her living space. He notices small details about her that he never paid attention to before: the books on the shelf, the photos on the wall, the cozy blanket draped over the couch. It dawns on him how little he actually knows about her life outside of work.

As Y/N returns with the first aid kit, she notices the tension in Vigilante's posture, his masked gaze fixed on some distant point. "Is everything okay?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

Vigilante hesitates for a moment, grappling with the urge to confess his feelings and the fear of rejection or worse, revealing his secret identity. Instead, he offers a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, just admiring your place. It's... cozy."

Y/N chuckles softly, setting the first aid kit down on the coffee table. "Thanks! It's not much, but it's home." She gestures for him to roll up his sleeve so she can tend to his wound.

As she cleans and stitches the wound, Vigilante finds himself relaxing in her presence. Her gentle touch and soothing voice calm the turmoil within him, if only temporarily. He starts to realize just how much he craves this sense of normalcy, away from the chaos of his double life.

Once the wound is patched up, Y/N sits back and surveys her handiwork with a satisfied nod. "There, good as new."

"Thanks," he murmurs, genuine gratitude coloring his tone.

Y/N smiles warmly. "Anytime. Just glad I could help."

They fall into a comfortable silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. Vigilante wrestles with the urge to confess his feelings, to tell her everything, but the fear of ruining their newfound closeness holds him back.

Just as he's about to speak, the sound of sirens pierces the night outside. Vigilante stiffens, his instincts kicking into high gear.

Y/N frowns, glancing towards the window. "Sounds like trouble. You should probably get going."

Vigilante nods, already rising from the couch. "Yeah, duty calls." He hesitates for a moment, then with a slight lift of his mask, he leans down to press a fleeting kiss to her cheek. The fabric brushes against her skin as he murmurs, "Thanks again, for everything."

Before Y/N can react, he's already slipping out the door, leaving her heart pounding in his wake.

As she watches him disappear into the night, a whirlwind of emotions crashes over her. Little does she know, this chance encounter is just the beginning of a tangled web of secrets, lies, and forbidden love.

One evening, as she and Adrian sat together after their shift, the topic turned to the recent attack. "I still can't believe someone was there to save me," Y/N mused, her voice tinged with awe. "I feel so lucky that Vigilante was in the area."

Adrian nodded in agreement, a faint smile playing at his lips. Little did Y/N know, he was the one behind the mask, his heart pounding with a mixture of guilt and affection. He had been following her that night, not out of malice or suspicion, but out of a growing sense of protectiveness. He wanted to ensure nothing bad happened to her, not because he felt obligated, but because he was falling for her in a way he couldn't quite comprehend.

As Y/N continued to express her gratitude, Adrian felt a swell of emotion rise within him. He longed to confess the truth, to tell her that he was the one who had been watching over her, but fear held him back. He couldn't bear the thought of jeopardizing their newfound connection, not when his feelings for her were so raw and uncertain.

Instead, he offered her a reassuring smile, his heart heavy with the weight of his secret. "Yeah, it was very lucky," he agreed softly, his words carrying a depth of meaning that only he could understand.

As they sat together in the quiet intimacy of the break room, Adrian couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them. Little did Y/N know, the man sitting beside her, with his gentle smile and hidden depths, was not just her coworker, but the masked vigilante who had come to her rescue.

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi! Love your answers and fics 💕

I would love to ask a fic with reader being a bff's with Ginny or Ron and the twins not really liking her but being forced to share a tent with her while camping (yes, one bed trope in nature with enemies to lovers twist 🙏🏻) , hope you like this idea, love ya!

Hi my love! You know I’m a slut for the one bed (tent?) trope but with their ages in the timeframe I tried to keep it a little PG (and failed miserably) 😂 I’m so very sorry this took so long to get out, I hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: sexual themes and references, enemies to lovers, confessions of love, humour, Fred being an absolute menace, George is the sweet one as usual. Set during a slightly canon-altered Quidditch World Cup (no mentions of mouldy voldy or the attack)

Word count: 1.3k

Deepest Sleepers.

You didn't know where your dislike for the Weasley Twins had stemmed from, but it seemed to be completely mutual. Perhaps it was the fear of being the recipient of a prank, maybe it was their constant overbearing nature, their natural ability to be the centre of attention at all times- all of which was indisputably annoying. You just couldn't relax around them or let your guard down, which you supposed was the overall reason that you'd never been friendly. They also seemed to take an instant dislike to you almost as soon as you became friends with their younger siblings, though what possessed them not to like you was a slight mystery. They largely ignored you but you’d often catch them glaring at you or doing their very best to look away and avoid you entirely, until you became a prime target for their pranks once or twice.

You'd been so excited to attend the Quidditch World Cup, even though you didn't have the biggest passion for the sport, it was going to be the highlight of your summer, attending the world cup with your best friends. Arthur had been so kind to invite you, Harry and Hermione along but you couldn't deny that your enthusiasm wavered slightly when you realised that Fred and George would also be joining you. You thought they might have broken away at some point, causing havoc wherever they chose to go but much to your annoyance, they had stayed firmly within the group the entire time from the moment you left the Burrow at the crack of dawn until you finally reached the campsite.

So how you found yourself sharing a tent with the two of them was a complete, unfortunate mystery.

Furthermore, how you ended up between the two of them in the tent with their lips kissing every inch of your skin and their big hands wandering your body was even more of a mystery the wisest auror wouldn’t be able to figure out.

Mere hours ago after the World Cup had finished, you’d contemplated casting a protective enchantment around yourself regardless of the underage magic law, claiming it was self defence or self preservation so you didn’t end up with a face full of boils, blue hair or no eyebrows courtesy of one of their ‘pranks’. Now, those thoughts were long gone as George turned your head towards him with his finger tucked beneath your chin, his lips chasing yours as Fred slips behind you, not hiding the evidence of his arousal against your backside. It was like a tug of war between them with you being the toy in the middle; a constant divide of attention and affection.

You break away from George to gasp out a sorely needed breath and take a second to look into his eyes, seeing his dark, fixed gaze upon you. You don’t doubt that Fred would be wearing an identical gaze but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around to check for yourself.

“I don’t understand,” you say breathlessly, knowing that you were almost definitely going to ruin the moment but you couldn’t deny your need for answers. “I thought you hated me.”

You hear Fred snort from behind you, a sort of involuntary noise that escapes him as soon as he hears your words.

“If this is your idea of hate, I’d love to see how you think someone who loved you would act,” he mumbles, pulling your hair away from your neck to press butterfly light kisses to your neck, making your eyes close on their own accord. But you fight to keep them open, to implore George with your eyes so he’ll give you a straight answer.

“Never hated you,” he says with the hint of a frown, as if he’s offended by the notion. His hand slips to reach down for your hand , entwining his long fingers with your own and you can’t help but glance down, marvelling at the size difference between your hands. Fred pulls on your shoulder gently, sensing that you wouldn’t give in to him without answers and pulls you down until you’re laying on your back, free to look between them.

“You see princess,” he explains, “Georgie and me made a pact that you were out of bound for both of us. Both fancied you like mad.” His hand cradles your hip whilst George keeps a gentle but firm grip on your hand, thumb swiping delicately over your knuckles.

“Thought that if you showed an interest in either of us, then we’d know who you preferred.”

“But you didn’t seem to like either of us.”

“So then the pranks started. Figured any attention from you was better than none.”

“I had pink hair for weeks!” You interjected, still simmering with annoyance.

“Honestly? I thought that if you looked different maybe I’d stop getting a hard-on every time I looked at you,” he says with a smirk, “didn’t work. Quite the opposite actually.”

You nudged him with your shoulder, causing him to drop down onto the makeshift cot beneath you all, earning a hearty laugh from him and his twin.

“You set this up didn’t you?” You break the silence with a gasp, realising that it wouldn’t be a coincidence that you’d been relegated to the small tent whilst the other guests were all sharing the big, much more comfortable tent.

The shy smile that George shoots you, mixed with his slightly pink cheeks tells you everything you needed to know.

“Might have pulled a few strings,” he mumbles through his sudden onset shyness.

“But if dad asks, you snore like a roaring Zouwu and we just so happen to be the deepest sleepers.”

“Fred!”

“We’re just so selfless, couldn’t have you disturbing the others could we?” He teases, tickling your hip.

“Yes it definitely feels like you’re being selfless,” you say with a smirk, rolling your hips to brush your ass against his still very obvious erection, earning a deep groan from him.

“So you don’t hate us?” George asks somewhat nervously, his hand slightly squeezing yours so your attention is diverted away from his very tempting twin.

“Could have done without the pink hair,” you argue, stating your point, “but I don’t hate you.”

“Elaborate,” Fred urges, his hand resting on your hip again, a sudden uncharacteristic nervousness hovering in his voice.

You sigh, knowing that you’d ruined it now.

“You both just make me nervous, like I’ll never know why you’re going to do next,” you say, averting your eyes slightly.

“Well if you want a full commentary of what I intend to do, I’d be happy to oblige,” Fred smirks, running his hands over your body, purposefully manipulating your answer.

“Fred,” you groan, half annoyed and half tempted.

“No more pranks,” George says suddenly, making your eyes flash to him. “Not on you.”

“Agreed,” Fred says suddenly, pressing his rather impressive tent to the curve of your bum as he shuffles closer. “At least now we can double down on the blokes trying to talk to her.”

“That was why Cormac fainted in the hallway on the way to Potions?!” You gasp, suddenly piecing it all together, realising they were the perpetrators all along.

“Your ours,” Fred says simply with a shrug, as if there’s no reason to argue.

“If that’s what you want,” George adds, throwing a quick but powerful glare at his brother.

“Wouldn’t want anyone else.”

[plasticfreckles]

🌙 the ~activity~ one solavellan enjoy🌙

He does not need to see her face to know that, somehow, her mind is not with them.

So he leans over her, ignoring the strain in his wrists from having them rendered immobile between their hips.

"Vhenan," he murmurs, and a shudder chases down her spine where his breath touches her skin. "Come back to me."

She shuffles to rest on her cheek, to look back up at him as best she can while still being planted face-down in the pillows.

"I am here." Her hips push back against his, underlining her words and taking him in further.

"Your mind is elsewhere." He leans up, sits back on his heels. The lack of her is wet and ice-cold on him. "Do you wish to stop?"

She turns, taking care not to hit his face with her foot.

"What makes you think that?" She reaches for him, pulls at his hand and curls it into her breast. Her nipple is hard and sensitive under his palm.

"I am claiming you, and you're not resisting, but you're not participating, either. Not anymore."

He had pulled her up from between his knees after innocent flirts, not so innocent touches and enough wine to alter the mind, trailing kisses down her front before gently turning her to her knees and taking her. Her face had sunken into the cushions of her own accord.

At some point, she had stopped rocking back to meet him, stopped struggling to breathe, stopped reaching for his hands in the crook of her hip and pushing down on the small of her back. Even stopped swishing her hair out of her face, over her shoulder and underneath her body.

"Do you require different touches?"

She blows a strand of hair out of her face.

"I.. I am afraid I will upset you. With what I have to say. And we're having so much fun."

"You aren't having fun, vhenan. But I cannot please you unless you tell me."

Something in his expression makes her lean up on her elbows.

"Solas, no. It's nothing you did wrong, I promise you." She climbs into his lap and kisses him, softly, gently, filled with so much affection it pushes the air out of his lungs.

"If you'd prefer to mount me-"

"Solas." The tone makes him pause. They both have to cross their eyes to look at each other, but they will both bear it for now. "I am a grown, independent woman. If I preferred to mount you, I would not offer to be bred like a dog."

It starts to dawn on him that maybe he should not force this conversation, that maybe she did not want to share this concern with him-

"Whenever I had sex before, it never lasted this long. They didn't. So, when you made me cum so often I lost count, and you're still not done. " A nod downward, the remains of their desire making the air cold on him. She draws in a breath, shallow and hasty. Like it was the first time they saw each other. "I started to wonder. How long is he going to take?"

She looks at his mouth now, hands curling loosely around his throat. More hair falls into her face; he brushes it away.

He doesn't say what he thinks, if you could wonder, I am not claiming you as well I should, as well you deserve.

"I suppose I'll just have to adapt to your stamina. A whole new world," she breathes into the space between their lips, one hand slipping down and thrusting up and down on him, but he holds her by her shoulders.

"A moment. How long has it lasted, before?"

It's a devastating information that is about to be uncovered, he can feel it. She hums in contemplation.

"The last one I had? I would not have gotten to the point to wonder. I wouldn't even cum unless I did it myself. He wasn't even that fresh. No excuse, really."

He groans, not entirely because of her motions on him.

"Foolish young men." The lot of them, to get to know Lavellan so carnally and not endeavor to worship her every freckle, to make her peak so often, so intense she can no longer tell north from south. To not take the time to learn what pleased her and then spend as much time as the world had to offer to turn that knowledge into action.

"I always thought it common knowledge that the one receiving peaks at least twice more than the one offering, and first, too."

Solas struggles to put voice behind his thought. Lavellan is too close, too eager, too skilled-

He steals the kiss that had lingered between them, finally. Fingers crawl from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, the other hand tightening its grip on him the way his fingers dug into her skin. Renewed desire wet-hot on his thigh where she grinds down with movements so subtle he almost thinks he imagines them.

"That sounds like so much fun. Show me."

"I will, so long as you promise to stay here, with me. Rest your mind. Let me draw your thoughts from your body."

"Take me. Whichever way you desire. Ea nar."

If there's an excited little chuckle from her lungs when she slides off his thighs as he rises, turns her back around and to her knees, wrapping her hair around his hand and wrist like a leash, he won't tell.

🌙

"ea nar" is what happens when u sit me in front of Project Elvhen too long. I've never been good at grammar, but the good thing is, if it is wrong, I can just say its on purpose bc Lavellan is still learning and Solas too horn knee to correct her rn :D

Ea: to be + nar = your, yours

also i read the The Truths Between chapter where they smash last night and it is hands down on of the best-ly written scenes I've read in my life and if Biowares invented video game men hadn't ruined me for real human men before that chapter in their fic would've done it <3

also i finished trespasser instead of working on my thesis and I need them to smash SO HARD in veilguard u got no idea

[yanderedbdimagines]

Hey! Could you write about a yandere Leon falling for a killer?

------

Of course! I received this request more than once now(about 3 times even), so I think I’m obliged to write a short scenario about it. xD

I hope you like what I have written here!

------

Leon Scott Kennedy

He couldn't quite trace the inception of these feelings or what had triggered his attraction to you. The onset had been swift, unsettling. His infatuation, like a malignant growth, had entrenched itself in his mind, disrupting every moment of respite from trials, fixating solely on thoughts of you.

Your presence was a constant weight, a haunting ache disrupting his focus, even amidst the life-and-death struggle he was meant to be embroiled in. If his emotions had any sway, they would have taken a different course.

This hotspot of festering emotions would eventually burst when he was confronted by a situation he never thought would happen to him. In the Disturbed Ward of the Crotus Prenn Asylum, he ran through empty patient rooms and scattered hallways, the smell of smoke thick in the air. Smoke that reminded him of a fire he couldn't see or feel. Maybe it didn't even exist, as the Entity's world often intermingled with the past and future of the location it had copied to create this arena.

He sensed your familiar pursuit, a silent chase aided by the Entity's eerie gift. Even the crimson illumination that bathed him vanished, appearing fleetingly as he narrowly evaded your surprise assaults, relying on sharp instincts and quick reflexes.

After leaping from a second-story window, he heard the distinct whistle of air through a narrow gap—the hatch. He altered his trajectory, yet his foot snagged on an unseen obstacle, sending him crashing to the ground, soon bracing for an imminent strike that never came.

Whipping his head around, he met your empty gaze. Your head tilted, eyes drawing to where his heart should be. A shake of your head, eyes narrowing, a souring expression of disappointment before shifting your focus. His gaze followed yours toward the by now opened hatch. Momentarily distracted, in that split second, you capitalized on his weakness, seized one of his legs and effortlessly dragged him toward it. A display of astonishing, violent strength that left him awestruck, the familiar gush of darkness soon blanketing Leon. Releasing his limb, it dangles in the gaping maw.

"Get out," your growl slices through the air, an angry rasp carrying an unspoken warning. It is clear that compliance with those two simple words is his only option.

You don’t even give him the time to react as you stalk your way back into the fog, the hand holding your weapon shaking with an emotion that could be anything but good.

Why did you let him go? Why didn’t you hook or kill him when you had the chance?

The questions linger in Leon's mind as he lay there; dazed, bewildered and entranced, the echoes of your command still reverberating in the air. The fog swallows you up completely, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the chilling uncertainty of your motives.

For a moment, he struggles to comprehend the abrupt turn of events. Your actions defied logic, a departure from the expected outcome in this twisted realm. But amidst the confusion, a realization dawns on him—a flicker of understanding that perhaps you weren't governed solely by the Entity's ruthless whims. Perhaps you are still human enough to show any shred of mercy. Perhaps you could even… Leon bites his bottom lip, almost breaking through the sensitive skin.

Regaining his bearings, Leon struggles to rise, his limbs protesting the sudden exertion. With a sharp inhale, he surveys the desolate surroundings, the eerie silence amplifying the storm in his mind. The kind of storm which could lead him to the kind of downfall he may never predict, and will shred him up from the inside out.

With a breath, he surrenders to the beckoning darkness beyond the hatch, a plunge into the unknown, propelled by uncertainty and a faint hope that your uncharacteristic act might hint at the possibility that you can love care.

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 4

I'm back with our boys, I just couldn't leaving the poor people reading Royal Pain hanging like that. I'm an author, not a monster. So it's a little longer a chapter to make up for the wait.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

We get hints of plot and backstory. Enjoy!

***

The sky was starting to lighten and Steve groaned.

“Make time stop,” he murmured into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie chuckled. “Sorry, princess, but you promised Lucas that you would be back at dawn.”

Steve grumped, but crawled off his boyfriend and stretched. “Who would have thought vampires have better stamina then werewolves.”

Eddie’s answering grin was positively feral.

“Who’s to say I wasn’t like that before I got turned?” He winked at Steve as he pulled on his clothes.

Steve laughed. “I’ll guess I’ll never know.”

Eddie straightened up and looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

Steve shrugged. “A couple things, really. Like I don’t know what you were like before you changed and I won’t know if it’s just you or all vampires that are that good, because I don’t intend to sleep with anyone else. Ever.”

Eddie finished putting on his clothes and put his arms around Steve’s waist from behind. “You are very romantic for someone who comes from a race that is infamous for fucking everything willing.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Everyone says I’m too romantic for my own good, for the pack’s good.”

Eddie kissed Steve’s throat without so much as the hint of teeth. “Too bad, baby, because I am into that shit.”

Steve moaned. “If you keep that up, I won’t make it back to the compound in time.”

Eddie chuckled again, his warm breath huffing against the skin of Steve’s neck. He let go of Steve’s waist. “Go on, sweet cheeks,” he teased. “I’ve got to report back to my uncle before the sun fully comes up.”

Steve nodded and waited until Eddie was in the sky before he transformed.

*

Steve made it to the pack compound before the first true ray of dawn even peeked over the horizon.

Lucas huffed out a wolfy laugh. “Cutting it little close, aren’t we?”

Steve shrugged. “What can I say? I’m horny teenager that hasn’t gotten laid in over a year. So sue me.”

Lucas rolled on the ground laughing. “Come on, it’s time for Murray to do guard duty.”

Steve nodded. “Can you have Erica and Holly play nearby while he does his watch?”

Lucas sat up and nodded. “Still don’t trust him?”

Steve shook his head. The alpha watched as the scrawny wolf that was Murray’s alter came oozing out of the woods. He bowed his head to Steve and kept it down as the alpha and younger teen passed him.

As the two wolves went further into the forest that surrounded their home, they could feel the gaze of the older wolf on them.

*

Eddie made it back to the trailer park well before the sky lightened enough to hurt him. He smiled at the structure that had been his home since he was young. It didn’t look like it held the most dangerous and powerful vampire in Indiana. But looks were deceiving for both the man and his home.

Wayne had been turned in Kentucky around the beginning of the 18th century. When he sided against the South’s right to own people, he was chased out of his home into Indiana, only barely a couple decades into statehood.

There with the help of Dr Martin Brenner, the coven Dominus and Clarence Harrington, the alpha, Steve’s great, great, great grandfather (werewolves live longer, so not as many generations between Steve and his ancestor as there was between Eddie and his) and the reason it’s called the Harrington Pack, founded Hawkins as a safe haven for the supernatural and humans alike.

Wayne looked rough, because he was born rough. The oldest son of a farmer. He had six siblings but of those six, only two lived to adulthood. Abigail, and the youngest, Lawrence. When he was attacked, he fought back, getting the vampire’s blood in his teeth, accidentally starting the turning process.

He learned how to hunt and be a vampire all his own, breaking all the stereotypes of a turned vampire being feral.

Because of his rough looks it made people underestimate him, so he dug into that hard. He moved with the poor and disenfranchised wherever the people in power put them. He finally settled in Forest Hills. His trailer looked as rough as the man himself.

But it was built like fortress. Not a single ray of light pierced its metal hide and the windows were mainly for show. It was a tough old thing, too. Eddie had heard stories of tornadoes ripping through the area only to be the only thing left standing.

Eddie wasn’t sure what it was made of, but it was home. He slipped into the trailer like a shadow to find his uncle waiting for him.

“Cutting it pretty fine, aren’t you, boy?” Wayne asked from his comfortable arm chair.

Eddie grinned. “You know me, I like to push the boundaries as far as I can.”

Wayne scoffed. “And one day it’s going to get you killed.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Wayne got to his feet and gave Eddie a hug.

“I’m glad you’re home, Ed,” he murmured. “I worried that Hopper had finally crossed a line he couldn’t come back from.”

Eddie nodded, “It was a near thing, Uncle Wayne, but Steve had finally healed enough to use his alpha voice and force submission.”

“I worry that he had to use it all,” Wayne said.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie said cocking his head to the side, “at least Operation Vamp Out was a success. So there’s that at least.”

Wayne pulled back, putting Eddie at arms length to see him properly. “You got the alpha to do what exactly? Because this shit’s important, Ed.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully, “I’m not sure I feel comfortable telling you about that, if I’m honest.”

Wayne’s eyebrows went up and his eyelids fluttered to a close. “You fucked him, didn’t you? You fucked the alpha of the Harrington pack.” He opened his eyes.

Eddie pursed his lips to try and hide his smile, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed him.

“Hop was against it until I said you were my maker,” Eddie hedged.

“Yeah, because that meant he wouldn’t have to fight off Bill Hargrove for the pleasure.”

Eddie frowned. “S’that because the Dominus is a racist piece of shit who is absolutely grinding his fangs to powder because his half-sister is dating a werewolf?”

Wayne chuckled. “The very like.”

“He’s also very scared of you,” Eddie said moving to sit on the sofa, “Hop I mean.”

Wayne’s grin was vicious in its unfurling. “That’s because Hop knows what I’d do to him if he toed out of line.”

“I’ve always wondered why you didn’t do anything about him when he drunk off his ass most of the time.”

Wayne knelt in front Eddie and took his hands gently. “Because around the time Sara died, you came into my life. You were already a frightened little boy who was thrown into my care, not know what kind of vampire I was. Would you have warmed up to me as well as you did if I had torn Jim Hopper to shreds?”

Eddie blinked up at him, his mouth wide with shock. “No.”

“There, you have your answer,” Wayne said softly. “I couldn’t deal with a wayward alpha when I had a sweet boy to look after.”

He moved to sit next to Eddie on the sofa and bumped him with his shoulder. “I can’t be everywhere and I’ve learned that I can’t throw my weight around like I used to. I’m actually worried that I’m losing control of the town.”

“Is this about Jason and the other boys?” Eddie asked.

Wayne nodded. “It never should have gotten as far as it did. Let alone to the attempted murder of the pack’s alpha. And Sheriff Powell has been fractious to put it mildly.”

Eddie pursed his lips and then licked them slowly. “It would be better if Hopper was police chief again.”

Wayne nodded again. “Powell as sheriff is bad for the town. I’ll talk to Mayor Roberts and see if we can’t at least get him suspended for not taking a threat to the Harrington Pack alpha seriously.”

“Have Steve and Billy with you,” Eddie suggested. “Especially Steve. Because at least he can show the mayor the scars that the silver made.”

“That’s a good idea, Ed,” Wayne said. “I’ll get right on that.” He bumped Eddie’s shoulder again. “You’ve got a good head on you. Maybe in a few years, I’ll have you take over as leader here.”

Eddie blushed and ducked his head. “Only if that means you’re still around. I don’t want to lose you.”

Wayne pulled him close. “I won’t leave you. Not if it’s in my power.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him and buried his head into his neck like he did that first night all those years ago. “I love you.”

Wayne kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too, boy.”

*

Mayor Roberts was pissed. He had especially placed Danny Powell as sheriff when the whole town thought Jim Hopper was dead. But the man had placed him between a rock and two vampires and a werewolf alpha all chomping on the bit for justice.

Justice that was rightly deserved. Hunters were like vigilantes. Outside the law, but respected by those who thought them necessary. Hunters that were very much barred from the town of Hawkins for a reason.

To be honest he was a little surprised it took five days for the three men in question to darken his door.

Wayne Munson walked in flanked by the teen leaders of the coven and pack. Billy Hargrove stood on the elder vampire’s right, while Steve Harrington stood on Wayne’s left.

The young werewolf looked more than a little worse for wear, he winced when he moved into the room, favoring his left leg. The leg Roberts was told had not only been shot with a silver bullet but caught in a silver foot trap.

It was inhumane what those boys did to Steve, but it was thing to hear about it and it was quite another to see its effects.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Roberts greeted solemnly. “I’m sorry we have to meet like this under these circumstances. Please have a seat.”

Harrington looked like he wanted to but when Munson and Hargrove didn’t he couldn’t without looking weak in front everyone. Something the alpha could not do.

He shifted his weight to his foot, straightening his spine so it looked as though he was standing on both legs equally.

Hargrove caught the movement and smirked. Munson ignored them both.

“We’ve come to see what is being done,” Munson said gravely.

“Jason and Patrick are both eighteen and will be charged with the full extent of the law,” Roberts said. “Andy, Chase, and Josh are all underaged and it’s trickier. Josh and Chase are only sixteen, while Andy is seventeen.”

All three supernaturals winced.

“Try Andy as child,” Steve said, “and then force the younger two boys to do community service in both the pack and the coven. Six weeks with each sect.”

Wayne and Billy looked over at Steve in shock. Mayor Roberts raised an eyebrow.

“What is the basis for that assessment?” the mayor asked.

Steve properly straightened up and all the boy next door persona dropped away to reveal a very powerful alpha. “I was there. I could tell that the two pups were only along for what they thought was prank. They are young enough that if they see what being in coven is like, what being in a pack is like, I believe they can change.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down.

“Andy was a more willing participant,” he continued seriously, “but perhaps one that could be persuaded that he was in the wrong. The other two knew full well of what they were doing and should be punished for it.” He looked up at Mayor Roberts, fire burning in his eyes.

Hargrove let out a long whistle. “Got some brains on you after all. I agree with alpha Harrington’s assessment and terms.”

All three men looked to Munson who was considering it. He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “It is sound judgment but I would like to add one thing, if I may?”

Mayor Roberts nodded. “Go on.”

“That the justice for Steve concerning the fate of Jason and Patrick be placed in my hands,” he growled.

The other three men blanched.

“They are still boys,” Mayor Roberts said, twisting a tissue in his hands nervously.

“I won’t kill them,” Munson promised. “But it’s time again I showed this town why I am its master.”

The mayor gulped, but nodded. Munson lowered his head slightly and then back up, not quite a nod, but an acknowledgment nonetheless.

Munson turned on his heel and walked out, the alpha and Dominus close behind.

***

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister

[matchadobo]

matchadobo's 500 followers event!

forced proximity

"if you seriously propose that i sit on your lap, i'm gonna fucking kill you."

"never figured you for this much of a cuddler."

"a word from you about this and i'll set you on fire."

hurt to comfort

"i still smell you on my sheets, i still remember your favorite songs, i still remember all of your little quirks, i still remember the feel of you under my palms, i still remember your smile, and i still can't get you out of my head. even though you forgot about me right now."

"if i had three lives, i'd marry you in two. the other life, i would be writer trying to pen you into existence."

"show me all the parts of you that you don't love, so i know where to begin."

fantasy

"been chasing me for weeks, and this is how you flirt? if you wanted to get under my skin, you should’ve skipped the silver and brought rum." (vampire x hitman)

"it'd be unbecoming for the captain of my knights to get caught sneaking out of my chambers at dawn, is it not?" (knight x king/queen) click here for the fic!

"for someone who claims to hate me, you sure can't stay out of my waters. afraid you'll miss me?" (mermaid x pirate) click here for the fic!

he puts you in your place (smut driven)

"you act like a brat all day and you expect me to do nothing about it?" click here for the link!

"you're in no position to tease baby, remember that."

"oh please, you like it when i tell you what to do."

modern au

"i told you not to get too close to me." (mafia)

"oh alright, but you bet your sweet ass i won't be doing it for free." (tutor au)

"are you confessing or do I need to sweep you off your feet to make it happen?" (soulmate au where bells keep ringing if you're with your s/o until a confession happens)

RULES

follow my blog rules! in case of special requests that fails to follow my blog rules, it will not be considered upon creating the request or it will be considered void. i'll try to find a way to partially meet the request and align it to my rules, otherwise it'd be void. like what happened in this hc. (not blaming the person who requested, just demonstrating what i'll plan to do)

this will be strictly a kidd x reader event, it could be poly with another one piece character but the pairing of 'kidd x reader' shall remain.

once i have accepted a request, the dialogue starter and a prompt genre will be crossed out in this post. a dialogue starter can only be accepted once. meanwhile, a prompt genre will remain open until all the dialogue starters are crossed out.

i only write for gender-neutral (they) and afab (she) readers. indicate in your request your preference, otherwise i'll decide.

smut, fluff, angst, etc. are welcome.

the event will be open until all the prompts and dialogues are crossed out.

HOW TO REQUEST:

select one (1) prompt genre (from #1-5) and choose one (1) dialogue starter. inclusion of more than one on each will result to a void request. if you want to request more than one prompt/genre, make another request.

include your special requests if you have any (it's fine if you don't, and if your request violated my rules; it'll be up to me in that case 😼). special request/s may include a particular ending for the request, a particular preface, story flow, established fact about them, a little alteration/modification in the dialogue starter but the inital intent is still there, personality trait, or if kidd/reader will say the dialogue.

requests will be accepted on a first come first serve basis. i won't be picky this time 🫰😚

place your requests on my ask box.

sample format: "i'd like to request forced proximity with the 3rd dialogue. make it a gn reader. i'd like an angst where kidd will say the line. maybe make it a happy ending."

click here for masterpost link

[sufferingsokkatash]

Since I’m pretty new to tumblr, I felt like sharing some silly/fluffy zukka hc snippets that I haven’t put into writing form or they’re too short to turn into fics.

Zuko once made the mistake of calling Sokka his ‘panda lily’ and, despite being grown and kind of mature now, Sokka still sulked for an entire day because it wasn’t manly

The gaang go on a camping trip for old time’s sake but Zuko and Sokka keep Toph awake with their tent shenanigans, so Toph stands outside their tent at dawn and yells: WAKE UP FALL, proceeding to cause a mini rock fall around their tent. Our two favourite dumbasses cling on to each other, thinking it’s a real rock fall in the middle of the damn woods. Sokka laughs at the ‘wake up call’ pun later around the campfire

Zuko leaves a scroll of parchment under Sokka’s pillow for him to find and he titles it: Things of Utmost Importance to the Firelord. Sokka panics when he finds it and unrolls it more, thinking he’s been a terrible consort, but it just says: Sokka and Druk (Zuko rethinks this stance at 2am when Sokka is practicing boomerang throws in his sleep while Zuko is trying to cuddle him and Druk is singeing holes in their pillows because he’s dreaming about chasing Momo)

When Aang finally regales them all with the tale of Zuko rescuing him from Zhao dressed as the Blue Spirit, Sokka is super annoyed that this hot sounding alter ego with really tight black clothing, swords, and flexibility to make him faint is now at the bottom of Lake Laogai. He carves Zuko a new Blue Spirit mask based on Aang’s story and it looks nothing like the original. Zuko forgot to mention the one he threw into the lake was a copy

If anyone else wants to share theirs, please do, I love reading them on here ❤️

[jonathanbiers]

a list of liminal spaces/situations where reality feels a bit altered to use as inspiration or writing prompts!

feel free to also use as an ask game if you like!

mirrors in a dark room

playgrounds at midnight

when you're moving out of a house and checking your room when it's almost or completely empty and sorted out

rest stops on highways

a room lit by candlelight only

an empty laundromat at night with the washing machines still on

deep in the mountains

churches at night

abandoned gas stations

hospitals at midnight

abandoned warehouse

out-of-commission lighthouses

empty parking lots

rooftops in the early morning

early in the morning wherever it’s just snowed

trails by the highway just out of earshot of traffic

schools during summer

bowling alleys after close

a cornfield next to a long country road

being the last person awake at a sleepover

hospital waiting rooms

airports at night

foggy cemeteries

abandoned prisons

hilltops in full moonlight

empty barns

marshes

a body of water shrouded in fog

hiking/biking trails during winter

winter twilight

back allies between houses

empty roller rink

dirt roads on fall evenings

libraries after closing

the woods during a rainstorm

roads covered in snow

train stations after 10pm

the air outside right before a massive storm

the woods just after twilight

the beach in winter

the bottom of swimming pools

secluded back corner of a library

windy roads at night when you can only see what's immediately in front of you

empty skatepark on a warm night

anywhere immediately after a really bad fight

the lakeside anytime between 2 and 6 am

firework shows when you’re sitting on the grass

being the only one downstairs on christmas  

stepping outside in the early morning when it has just snowed

when its dark and you see snowflakes falling down in the light of a lamppost

that one clear spot in the forest with trees surrounding it

a parked car in a snow/thunderstorm

corn fields with the wind blowing over them

malls about to close for the night

woods at twilight/dawn

being on a train after midnight

theme parks at night

being alone in an elevator for a few minutes

looking down at the trees from up high

the ferry about to take off in the middle of the night

tree houses

4-6 am on a winter morning

the feeling of being chased

condensation coming out of your mouth when it's really cold in the morning

arcade just after close

stepping out on an unfamiliar metro/train stop

greenhouses that have been left to grow alone

biking/walking on the main road when it's dark and no cars are around

foggy swamp

bakery just after opening, everything is fresh and warm and the sun hasn't risen yet

hotel corridors in the middle of the night

foggy mornings in a meadow

flickering streetlights

long, dark hallways

the middle of a park when its snowing

train tracks in the forest

bonfires in the quiet

a little lake in the middle of the forest

lonely swings swaying with the wind

the woods on a night with a full moon

rest stops

empty metro stations that are usually crowded

gas stations on long mountain roads

the old part of a city when you’re the only one in the street

under an old bridge

knowing you're not alone in a space where you can't see anyone around you, like a forest

junkyards

a dimly lit stairwell

empty sidewalk outside of a small venue when you can hear live music through the walls

corner store in a small town

parking garage at night

an empty field with old/out-of-commission industrial equipment/large machinery

graffiti'd train car

[starsreminisce]

I smelled jasmine first—then saw stars. A sea of stars flickering beyond glowing pillars of moonstone that framed the sweeping view of endless snowcapped mountains. “Welcome to the Night Court,” was all Rhys said. It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.

The sunlight danced along the curve of the silver teapot. I kept my eager nod to a restrained dip of my chin. “But you will find,” Rhysand went on, pouring a cup for me, “that our nights are more spectacular—so spectacular that some in my territory even awaken at sunset and go to bed at dawn, just to live under the starlight.”

Imagine the awe Elain would experience when she finally visits the Day Court, especially considering her penchant for sitting by the sunniest windows, chasing shadows away.

If Feyre was in awe of the Night Court's beauty and how its nights were spectacular enough to alter sleep schedules, then the splendor of the Day Court would likely leave Elain utterly mesmerized.

And the realization that her mate would one day rule over such a magnificent domain would only add to the wonder and significance of the moment.

[bunnidid-reviews]

I treated myself to a couple of fictional DID books for my collection \o/ I’ll be reading Chasing Dawn, and I finished Elle(s) last night

A quick review of Elle(s) since I saw it mentioned elsewhere(which is why I bought it):

- the art style is really good! Its like if one of those Discovering DID movies were made by Pixar. So far its not got any of the typical triggers, so it’s a very safe read.

- its short and a little awkward with the panels; I did a lil bit of beep boop research and apparently this is one of the first comics this person’s ever written. The pacing is a little rushed, but it gets the story across

- the switches really aren’t gimmicky; its obviously not in anyones favor and have pretty realistic triggers(most of which are overwhelmed noping out, which.. mood)

-the hair color change is obviously for visual effect and not something that actually happens for her friends to see

-the inner world portrayals are really neat. The art that went into this is just so lovely. I think I saw a review of someone else saying the inner world was ‘too much’ but I really mean it when I say there wasn’t all that much, nor was it out of place =v= (i think people get antsy when they see innerworld portrayals, especially people without CDDs, and use it as a means to ‘prove’ others are faking, but hey ho just my opinion)

- overall pretty sneat so far. I only have the first book, and have the second one preordered. It seems like the artist is still working on the series, so we’ll see where it goes!

[coraniaid]

Another AU idea, if you're not bored of these already! Spike, for whatever reason, doesn't come back to Sunnydale. (Maybe the flights are expensive or something.) What alternative bad guy could be an interesting new Scooby? (You know, like Dracula, or Glory, or Sunday, etc. etc.)

PS: Faith isn't a bad guy, so she doesn't count! :)

As I think I've mentioned on here before, if I ever get around to writing a sequel to my S3 AU fic Coexist (which, to be clear, is not very likely to happen), I would probably have Sunday be the vampire who gets captured and then chipped by the Initiative.

But just to be a different (and to keep my options open if I ever do end up writing such a sequel), let's go with somebody else: Willow's vampire alter ego from The Wish and Doppelgangland. There are, I guess, a couple of objections to this idea: namely that the last time we saw vamp!Willow she was (a) in another dimension and (b) dead. But these are easily dealt with, I think.

How I see this playing out is that everything in Season 4 happens much the same way it does in canon for the first few episodes (Spike either comes back for The Harsh Light Of Day but then not a second time, or we can replace him in that one episode with somebody like ... I don't know, Lyle Gorch?). Oz and Willow still break up, as in canon, and Oz leaves town after Wild At Heart. Then:

We go immediately into Something Blue [skipping The Initiative for now, and skipping Pangs forever because it's trash]. Willow still casts her will-be-done spell and things play out as much as like canon as they can. Obviously that's pretty different, with no Spike -- we probably need to rename the episode for a start -- but Willow can still make Giles blind and Xander a literal demon magnet. Let's say her suggestion for Buffy is a bit like Dawn's wish in Season 6; she's upset about Buffy going patrolling and not staying with her, so she unwittingly says something that makes Buffy both unwilling and unable to leave the dorms (but it takes them a while to figure out this is what's happened). The other key difference is that, while mourning the end of her relationship with Oz, Willow brings up her doppelganger from last season and says she had a point that "this world's no fun". "Why," Willow says, "She should come back from wherever we sent her so I can tell her she was right." Cue to vamp!Willow in the Wishverse, just about to be staked (again) ... only to vanish and reappear in Willow's dorm room. [With some work, you could play up the fact that human!Willow didn't realize Oz could hurt her so badly with the fact that vamp!Willow was about to be killed by him.] Before our Willow can say anything, her counterpart escapes into the night (and Buffy can't chase her, because of the wish Willow made about her, which is something that helps them figure out what's going on).

At the end of the episode, Willow breaks the spell as in canon. Everyone assumes that this sent vamp!Willow back to her original dimension again -- especially when she doesn't show up to cause any more trouble -- but it doesn't. Instead she gets captured by the Initiative, just like Spike did in canon. And a couple of episodes later, she breaks free again ... only to discover, just like Spike did, that she's been chipped and can't hurt anybody human. She probably finds out a little bit sooner that she can still hurt demons and vampires: in fact, given her MO in Doppelgangland she probably only finds out she can't drink from living humans after she's already taken control of the current vampire gang in Sunnydale and tried to attack the Bronze (again). When that doesn't work (and after her reputation has taken a bit of a blow as a result) she tries the Drusilla approach of being a power behind the throne for a bit (not hurting anyone directly but getting a proxy to lead the other vampires in attacking humans and bringing her fresh blood from already-dead victims), but unfortuntately for her credibility the only vampire she can find who's willing to take orders from a vampire who can't hurt people herself is Harmony (who I guess was dating Lyle Gorch in this AU but broke up with him pretty quickly). And between that frustration and the fact the Initiative quickly show up again looking for her, she doesn't have much choice but to throw herself on the Scooby Gang's mercy [which we know, from Season 3, that they're likely to show her, especially if she can give them any information about the Initiative].

Cue sitcom-worthy plots wherein human!Willow is going to class and (mostly) spending her nights in the dorm room she shares with Buffy and sometimes going home to visit her parents and trying to keep her new relationship with Tara hidden from her friends, while vamp!Willow is sometimes hiding out in a crypt somewhere and sometimes hanging out with Anya and sometimes pretending to be human!Willow in Buffy's dorm (to escape both the Initiative and Harmony). Harmony has at least three conversations with human!Willow which she walks away from thinking she's been talking to vamp!Willow (Harmony thinks vamp!Willow is the coolest person she's ever met but the feeling is not quite mutual). Riley is briefly convinced that human!Willow is the missing "Hostile 17" he and his men have been looking for, then is persuaded that Willow is 100% human and not a vampire at all, then almost immediately runs into vamp!Willow and assumes he's still talking to human!Willow. When Faith temporarily steals Buffy's body in Who Are You? she also completely fails to clock that vamp!Willow and human!Willow are different people (though she figures out almost immediately that both Willows are crazy about Tara). She does get on a lot better with the vampire version of Willow than the human one, but she assumes this is just because Willow has mellowed out a lot since high school. (Faith only learns the truth when she comes back in Season 7.) Anya can tell them apart easily and thinks it's weird that other people can't. She and vamp!Willow get on like a house on fire (which really highlights how much Anya and human!Willow don't); they trade stories about various atrocities they've committed when they're bored (they agree that Anya's are better but Anya cheers vamp!Willow up by pointing out she's a lot older and had more time to practice being evil).

When Oz comes back later in the season, we briefly tease the idea that having two versions of Willow might be a way of resolving Willow's putative love triangle (especially by having vamp!Willow delightedly refer to Oz as 'puppy' when he first starts to transform into a werewolf again). The problem is that both Oz and Tara can always tell the two Willows apart, and neither of them is attracted to vamp!Willow at all. (The fact vamp!Willow remembers a version of Oz trying to kill her is not, as it turns out, much of a problem.) Adam still tries to recruit vamp!Willow to sow dissension in the ranks of the Scooby Gang, but she isn't very interested in trying [she's not interested in playing second fiddle to some other demon] and wouldn't be very good at it if she was. Adam gets Harmony to do it instead, and she is surprisingly successful at it at first (in part because she doesn't think of herself as doing anything untoward: she's just helpfully pointing out facts [cf. that Cordelia quote about tact]). Harmony still can't tell vamp!Willow and human!Willow apart though, so she cheerfully tells human!Willow that she thinks she [i.e. vamp!Willow] has done a great job infilitrating the gang and all Willow's friends already like her much more than the original, which she means sincerely and our Willow does not take well. Vamp!Willow figures out what's going on (and decides to tell the Scoobies about it, mainly because she's annoyed that Adam is trying to take 'her' rightful place as the town's Big Bad). But not before Harmony tries to give her the speech which she'd planned to give human!Willow (which is mostly the same speech about how great vamp!Willow is, actually, but Harmony makes the point of telling her that she's not as smart as vamp!Willow "so you shouldn't even try to stop Adam's plan, because there's no way a loser like you will figure out he's going to have all the demons be captured bythe Initiative then stage a break out and hope they all kill each other").

Vamp!Willow also follows canon!Spike's lead in falling for Buffy in Season 5. She is, if anything, even more mortified on realizing this than Spike was. Buffy and human!Willow try very hard to pretend this doesn't make things weird between them, not entirely succesfully. This gets even more difficult to do in Season 6 when vamp!Willow and Buffy start hooking up.

[liberandi-causa]

The Novice and The Serpent

Her flames had not quite died, just yet.

Protagonist pants, amid the struggle to keep her speed, to be faster—faster than the thing that gives chase relentlessly, of a slower pace, yet consistent. A stalker who looms closer should the Protagonist stops to catch her breath.

Desperation began to fill her eyes, the dark woods offer little to no help of her plight nor did it console the fact that she's there.

No longer in a dream—as real as that damned deal earlier had been.

Or perhaps, she could climb up. Hide until dawn arrives—then her soul to be left intact, preferably without an alteration of its ownership. After all, the deal says only to escape its grasp until the sun sets its first light, without specifically mentioning hiding as something she wouldn't be permitted of doing.

But on a gloomier prospect, Protagonist knew well why that thing didn't act clever despite its immense power, nor did it gain speed; as It meant to tire out Protagonist—to catch her at last when she no longer possess the strength to continue even a mere walk.

Her thoughts juggled when she slows down. Sounds of broken branches heard just nearby, enough to send her once again on a state of most alert. What once had been stable, is now in disarray.

By the stars, what did they say?

A barrier, you dimwit!

She stopped in a sudden halt, direction turning to her back — to where the footsteps were. Hands forming the shape to invoke a protective barrier, while her mouth chants an ancient draconic tongue.

And that thing, finally, showed itself.

A raven-haired beauty with dark red lips and a hauntingly beautiful black dress, made as if tailored to her figure. Her locks extends to her waist wrapped in a belt studded with black diamonds, and the rest of the dress covers partially of her feet, leaving a slight opening on the front.

Antagonist smiles, a pale hand raised to the air as if palpating an invisible wall that separates them by a few short metres.

"Given up already?"

"Restrategising more like." Protagonist snorts.

"Dearest, you and I both know that giving up isn't such a bad idea." Antagonist slowly walks around the barrier, "I'd make a loving partner in exchange of course, to an eternal subjugation to my affections."

"See, that's where you're wrong. Bad idea starts from wherever the word subjugation is used."

Antagonist lets out a laugh, almost sinister-like in the ambience of the dark forest illuminated merely by the moonlight.

"So, what's the new strategy like?" Antagonist's voice turning more joyful.

"Ah, had you been on my side and let me go, I'd let you in on the whole plan."

"Aw, a little hint then, love?"

Protagonist frowns, "I emerge in victory and you to grant me whatever it is that I wish per our agreement."

"Are you sure?" Antagonist braves another step, only to be blocked by the barrier.

"Positive. I mean, look at you now," Her head tilts, gesturing at the protective wall standing firmly, "The outlook doesn't look that grand at you, huh?"

Dark mist gradually appears from the tip of the Antagonist's fingers, engulfing completely the barrier. Then, translucent cracks gradually forming; earning a panicked look from the Protagonist, prompting her to turn away and run.

However, before there was any momentum to propel her feet, a pair of arms pull her backwards into an embrace. Protagonist half-expects to lose her balance, only to find something forced her to lean on her back on something—

Fuck.

"Love, you should know well that as someone older than a dragon—a dragon magic will do the least to stop me."

Protagonist turns her head, only to be greeted by a gentle kiss that commands her to sleep.

[homie-one-kenobi]

Fine Line

For @diviluscorner​ 💕                                                                   AO3 Link

2023′s @cloneficgiftexchange​

Pairing: Wolffe x Reader

Prompts: I’m pretty sure your general hates me // It’s the price we pay to feel // Me hogging the bed is FALSE information (slightly altered) 

Warnings: war is hell // typical clone wars violence // injury // angst // swearing // Order 66 :)

Words: too many (6.1k)

NOTES: I am an angst & graphic war writer, so this took me a LOT longer than usual, because I had to change the plot like 5x so it didn’t end up sad or too gory 😂I ended up combining all of my original plots into a series of points in “your” life. I also didn’t underline the prompts in the story because I felt it took away from the experience.

Alright, good luck. 

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

I’m going to die here, you realize as you stand on your first battleground, watching as artillery fire blocks out the first dawning rays of light. Through the trees comes the first wave of the Separatist army, the sun reflecting off the vast metal in front of you. They’re going to slaughter us all. 

“Commander, look out!”

Wolffe shoves you hard and you stumble into a bush, just as a blaster bolt embeds itself in the tree where your head had just been. The enemy fires again, but this time you block it with a lightsaber, the impact sending adrenaline coursing through you. 

You frantically rush the offending battle droid, ducking under its outstretched arm and jamming your lightsaber up through the groove between its chin, the metal plating melting into its head. The droid jerks slightly before falling towards you. It falls in pieces at your feet, and you gag in horror at the sight. Another enemy falls near you, showering you with splatters of oil and bits of smoldering gears. 

You remain frozen on the battlefield, lightsaber limp at your side, staring at the droid at your feet.

Wolffe roughly grabs you by the front of your robes. “Wake up, Commander!” He shakes you desperately.

A bead of sweat trickles down your temple and you furiously blink it away. The deep breaths you're taking do very little to calm your racing heart as the battle wages on around the both of you. Blaster bolts whiz by your heads and explosions rock the ground, throwing you both off balance. 

Wolffe snatches the lightsaber from your limp grasp and holsters it back onto your belt; he grabs your elbow and starts running perpendicular to the company line, skimming the outskirts of the forest and dragging you along with him.

The Separatists start pounding the Republic troops with more massive shells, their aim getting more accurate. You both keep running, but there are so many soldiers in the way.

Another blaster bolt whizzes past your shoulder, but you’re too terrified to consider the consequences of if it had hit you. The place behind you is obliterated from the artillery fire; the bombardment wreaks hell on the Republic line. Barely ten yards in front of you another shell hits, and the impact sprays dust and debris in your face. Momentarily blinded, you trip and stumble into the crater; you cough up dirt and grass as you try to orient yourself, the lightsaber on your belt digging into your ribs.

Wolffe yanks you up and you keep running. The second Republic company line attacks at the sound of the chant “For the Republic!”, the clones pouring from the trees around you. A clone runs into you and you both fall; the clone rolls before scrambling back up and running back into the fray. Wolffe pulls you up again. 

There are too many soldiers. You’re knocked down again, and you tumble out of Wolffe’s reach; you scramble back up and continue on alone, fearful that wiping the dirt from your eyes would slow you down. There is a battle droid who gives chase, firing every time it gets a lock on you. It gets closer and you zig-zag to avoid the target lock, fumbling for your lightsaber, but drop it. You leave the lightsaber in the grass and escape as a few clones stop to attack the battle droid.

Wolffe finds you again, and he grabs your hand. You hold on with all that you have. 

"Don't let me go," you hear yourself screaming.

"Never," he answers, shouting over the sounds of battle, but all you can hear is your heavy breathing and the battle cries of the soldiers and the artillery and the gunships and the screaming.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

“History is a lesson in humility.”

You blink, pausing your petting of a curious manka cat and calmly turn back to face Master Plo Koon. A mild gust of wind rustles through the airy Jedi Temple and wraps around you fondly like an invisible embrace. Your pale linen robes flutter to the rhythm of the breeze, amplifying the faint chill that crawls up your arm in pleasant goosebumps. Towering pine trees dress the horizon alongside blooming flowers of various shades. The stone of the temple is warm from the sun shining through the trees.

“In the last century alone, the Republic has fought seven wars. And we did not win all of them, even during our Age of Great Peace,” he says. He waves his hand, and the manka cat snarls before slinking back into the tall grass to hunt for its next meal. 

“How upbeat,” you mutter, turning to completely face him. 

If he had heard you, he does not acknowledge it. “The Republic used to span into the Outer Rim. The High Republic was the birthplace of modern civilization, and Coruscant the center of the galaxy. The planetary delegates have brought their culture and methods of good governance to the Republic, thus strengthening us.” 

You tilt your head. “Why did relations sour between the cartels like the Trade Federation and the Republic? What happened? What did they want from us?”

“With all of these cultures, not all relations were peaceful,” Master Koon explains. “The Trade Federation is ambitious and has always wanted more, even if it was nominal.”

He draws his lightsaber. “Show me Form V, Djem Sho variation.”

You comply, unhooking your new lightsaber and holding it with both hands above your head, angling it back at a forty-five degree angle. At his nod, you lunge forward with the signature avalanche attack, slamming your lightsaber down with as much force as you can muster, and Koon turns to block it. As he does, you bring your leg up to round-house his unprotected head, stopping inches before contact. You pause, and Plo nods in acknowledgment.

“Continue.” he instructs, parrying a swipe at his side. You track his movements, deflecting blows before they fall. He launches himself up and over you, narrowly avoiding the swing of your lightsaber. He lands lightly on his feet, ready to continue.

“Shein Form.”

You adjust quickly, holding your lightsaber with two hands near your head, like a baseball bat, your dominant leg held back to allow powerful step-through strikes. 

You stab and slash, trying to find an opening in Plo's defenses. But every time you reach for his heart, your blade is driven out of line. He effortlessly deflects a rain of streaking cuts, forcing you to give ground. He leans into a thrust at your gut, which you deflect, stopping his attack and bringing you both to a stand-still. “You will have to do better than that.”

“Sorry,” you say, struggling to get through his defense. You feint an attack for his face before dropping to sweep his legs out from under him. Plo Koon leaps over you again and you roll away.

You barely get your lightsaber up in time to stop Koon from slicing you in half. You do your best to ground yourself and dispel the energy of the blow evenly across your body and into the ancient tile. The tile cracks under the force, but the Jedi isn’t done. He shifts his lightsaber, pointing his blade towards your hilt and jabs, causing you to drop your lightsaber to protect your hands from being cut off. You do a back-spring to get some distance between you.

When you touch down, he’s already there. You leap back further, adopting a defensive stance, but Plo spins, slashing at your leg. You manage to evade the blow, but his lightsaber is already swinging at you as you right yourself. Frantically, you call on the Force and stop the attack mid-swing. You breathe a sigh of relief, only to realize he had your lightsaber as well, which was currently pointed at your neck.

“Why did you lose?” He asks, keeping your lightsaber aimed at you.

“I was distracted.”

“Yes, but not what I was looking for. How did I know how to beat you?”

You wrack your brain, struggling to find an answer. “Well, you’re taller than me, and–”

“Then Master Yoda would not be the Grand Master, now would he?”

You suppress a growl. Master Koon was frustratingly vague and deliberately obtuse. He would dance around answers, and liked to make you circle around the answer like a pterathki vulture before giving you a morsel of understanding. 

Your brows furrow. “You had asked me to change forms mid-fight.”

Pleased, he continues. “Tell me about the Shien variant.”

In the course of your research that Master Koon had assigned you, you had discovered that Form V was created from Form III, and Shien was the first variant to be developed, devised as an anti-blaster form, allowing the user to deflect blaster bolts right back to their attacker. 

“It’s built for defense, but unlike Form III, this form attempts to create an opportunity to attack, and relies on counterattacks to gain the advantage. It also requires an enormous amount of physical demands.”

“So, why did you lose?”

“It requires both speed and strength, but I–”

“It is not you I am critiquing, I am critiquing the Form itself.” He says. After a moment, he elaborates. “How many people can you defend against with Form V?”

“Theoretically, a multitude.” At his nod, you continue. “So I lost because I’m using a form made for multiple opponents, not one. And because the form requires speed and physical strength, I no longer have the agility–”

“To fight one opponent. Very good,” he praises. He hands your lightsaber back to you, and you clasp the cool metal in your palms. 

Master Koon steps into Form V Shien, and you follow suit. He nods.

You lunge.

He parries, blocking an overhead attack and directing it into the temple floors. You spin and whirl around each other, like dancers at a ball. He feints to the left and then spins to the right, trying to catch you off-guard. You are not fooled, however, and effortlessly dodge his attack. You remain in a low stance, your body poised and ready to strike.

“You are doing well,” he says after a moment. “Let us put Form V’s real use to the test.”

You’re not sure what he means as Koon swings his blade at your legs, but you jump back into the air and somersault over his head, landing in a crouch. You strike at his legs, but Plo leaps high and spins, bringing his blade down. 

The force of the blow sends you stumbling backwards, and he takes advantage of the opening to deliver a barrage of wild attacks, driving you backwards. You desperately try to defend yourself, but Plo is relentless, driving his blade towards your chest. Just before the blade can make contact, you twist to the side and break Form V. Plo tries to disarm you again, pointing his blade towards your hilt again and jabs. 

You drop the lightsaber with one hand, duck under his attack, and catch your lightsaber with the other hand. You swing upwards, nicking the hood of his robes before leaping backwards. A noise behind you makes you glance backwards, just in time to see a stun bolt heading your way.

“You’re resisting the Force. Let it flow through you.”

You’re almost positive Master Koon hates you.

But it is not Master Koon that you see when you wake up, but Wolffe kneeling over you, his softened brown eyes searching your face. “Are you hurt, Commander?” he asks.

“You must learn to let go,” Master Plo continues, “if you’re only focused on the enemy’s weapon, you’ll always be on the defensive. Look past the weapon.”

Wolffe grabs your chin, turning your head left and right to check for injuries as he soothingly runs a hand through your hair before cupping your cheek. Without meaning to, you lean into his caress. 

He minutely strokes your cheek with a thumb before freezing. He shakes his head quickly, as if clearing his thoughts, and continues to search your body for injuries… shoulders, wrists, arms… you halt his frantic hands, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Wolffe, I’m okay.”

He stands and offers you a hand, before clearing his throat. “Be careful next time, Commander. I don’t have time to pull you out of every battle; for the Republic to win, we need well-trained soldiers, and we need the best.”

Seemingly oblivious, Master Koon continues his lesson. “Precisely. In the confusion of a fight, your mind must be still and as steady as a rock. You must be grounded in your center, able to see and control everything around you…” 

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

His thighs are struggling to keep him upright, the loss of blood from his thigh wound finally getting to him; his pistols are shaking in his hands. A sea of droids remain. The rocks dig into his knee guards as he collapses, and the droids surround him. There were 10 of them, blasters crackling with plasma discharge, all of them aimed at his heart. Wolffe closes his eyes.

There is the sound of someone landing hard next to him before blasterfire surrounds him, but none of the bolts hit their target. He hears a blaster bolt hit flesh, a yelp of pain, just before the zinging sound of a lightsaber and the roar of a rancor surround him.

You crouch above him, snarling at the droids as you block their shots. Your lower back is smoldering, the skin around the wound blackened from the plasma bolt. The linen of your robes is still sizzling out. 

He watches your form twirl above him, your lightsaber reflecting so many bullets that the two of you seem to be surrounded by a barrier of light. You move with a grace that belies your wild appearance, dodging and deflecting blaster bolts, seemingly untouchable. 

There is an otherworldly presence about you, as though time itself had slowed down for Wolffe to fully appreciate you. In his periphery he sees the jungle rancor that you’ve commanded grab droids and crush them into the dirt. He feels his breath catch in his throat as he watches a bead of sweat trail down the side of your face, past your eyes, and down your gleaming neck.

With a final cry, you twirl on one foot and bring your lightsaber down in a powerful slam, cracking the ground below you and sending the remaining droids flying backwards. The clay dirt kicks up around you both. The air is silent except for the echoes of artillery fire in the distance. Your lightsaber encircles you as you call the rancor back to you, chest heaving as you wildly scan the area for any additional attackers. Your eyes are feral, your teeth bared. Seeing none, you quickly deactivate your lightsaber and holster it, dropping to your knees in front of him.

Then there seems to be two of you with him. Wolffe blinks. Now there’s three. And now one. Wolffe blinks again and you push his hair back to check his head. He may or may not lean into it. Then you notice the gushing wound on his thigh and you pale. At least he thinks you do, he can’t quite see straight. 

You return to the rancor and seem to speak to it. It must understand you, because it disappears back into the jungle from which it came, and you approach him again. 

“This is going to hurt,” you say. 

You’re pretty, he thinks, before blinding pain is all he knows as you lift him into a fireman’s carry, his entire body slung across your shoulders as you march your way across the active battlefield. Despite the blasterfire around you, nothing seems to come close to him. His mind is hazy, but he swears there was a plasma bolt coming right for you, but somehow it swerves just out of line so it misses both of you. You might be a wizard or something, he swears. So pretty and cool.

You chuckle. “You’re pretty and cool too, Wolffe.”

Of course I am, he thinks. You laugh again.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

“You could have died, Commander.”

You and Wolffe stand together in the soft glow of the explosion's fire, which paints a mysterious and unearthly orange and gray across the night sky. The glow of the flames wrap around you both, bathing you in warmth as the flickering light dances between you. Everything is illuminated, making Wolffe's armor look like a sunset.

You glare at him. “Look, we needed those cannons destroyed, and we didn’t have time to wait for permission! I can take care of myself!”

Wolffe tears his helmet off and pins you with furious eyes, his cybernetic implant glowing orange in the light. “I don’t care what you can do – I almost had to watch you get taken down by farking cannon fodder!” His hand has found your gauntlet to keep you rooted in front of him, and his grip tightens as you angrily try to free yourself. He notices his fellow vod approaching and acts quickly by dragging you behind some crates.

You try to shake free from his grasp. “Let me go, Wolffe,” you demand.

Wolffe drops his helmet into the dirt and pulls you into a crushing embrace, clawing at your robes. He buries his face into your hair and takes a deep breath, the sound washing over you like a wave. Your fingers instinctively curl around the straps of his heavy chest plate as his gloved hand follows the curve of your waist before pressing flat against the small of your back, the other coming up to caress your cheek. 

Each exhaled breath entangles you. He rests his forehead against yours, watching your lips. Your breaths intermingle, and he’s so close, he’s so close. When he speaks, his voice is raw from an unleashed wave of emotions. “I can’t let you go. I–I can’t…”

The air between you feels like lead with every breath dragging you to the core of the planet. You feel like if this moment were to last any longer it would be enough for an eternity. As he inches closer, seconds turn into unworldly minutes; heartbeats speak more than simple words ever could. Your voice is hoarse as you answer. “It’s…”

Your lips graze his slightly. He shudders against you, his breathing ragged. His lips brush yours. They linger a little longer this time.

You try again. “It’s the price we pay…”

To feel.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

It was him or the galaxy, you realize. 

Wolffe was teetering off the edge of the bridge in the datacenter with only you to hold on to, death's arms opened wide below. 

The Separatist ultimate weapon, stored in a cartridge on this ship, was threatening to be unleashed unless you could retrieve its plans in time. 

You hold onto his hand with all of your strength. You feel a wave of terror wash over you as the ship you’re on begins plummeting towards the planet below. As you desperately hold onto Wolffe, a dozen node cartridges fly from the vault's datatree behind you. The one you need starts to tip and slide out of its node. You and Wolffe are running out of time. 

Everything seems to move in slow motion, except for your pounding heart that thunders against your rib cage. 

The cartridge falls onto the bridge and begins sliding towards the edge, and you frantically reach towards it. It’s too far away and it falls just out of reach. It tips over the edge, and you call on the Force, stopping its movement at the last second.

Wolffe is too heavy and is pulling you down with him, the bridge support is digging into your already-bruising skin. Your grip is weakening. The seconds seem to pass by slowly before you gain the courage to look at him. His eyes are dull with sadness, but his voice is resolute when he speaks: "You need to let me go, Commander."

A memory flashes in your mind with crystal clarity; his strong arms wrapped around you, the smell of his aftershave, and his snarl that forms when defending you. You shake your head vehemently, not trusting your voice to not break. 

"The Republic is at stake! It’s either me or the galaxy– please, let me go." 

Tears spring to your eyes as those words strike a chord deep within you. Struggling against an onslaught of emotions, you can barely contain one last plea: "Don't say that– don't you dare say that! I can save you both!"

You can feel the pain from the bridge support radiating heavily into your skin, and you try to readjust, but it causes you to slip, and the plans fall further. Wolffe gently pries your fingers from his hand as you scream at him.

“You were a good friend, Commander. I will miss you.”

Friend. Friend.

Another memory: hands intertwined, caressed cheeks, and stolen kisses. An “I love you”. 

This isn’t real. 

This isn’t real.

You open your eyes, blinking into the light of the Council room. The sunlight pours in from the grand windows, creating a contrasting warm yet solemn atmosphere. Master Plo Koon kneels across from you, hands resting in his lap as the rest of the Council looks on. 

The only sound to be heard is Master Yoda's cane tapping gently against the soft carpet beneath him as he approaches you, the sound echoing through the chamber and carrying a finality that is almost tangible. His face is grim– they've seen everything. Master Plo bows his head as he contemplates this new knowledge, while you remain silent and still before them. 

You have failed the Jedi Trials. This is the price you pay to feel.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

“I miss you. I miss having you near me.”

Wolffe’s holo flickers on the dusty holocom. The tooka-cat that was sleeping in your lap stretches before covering its face with a paw, and you stroke its fuzzy violet pelt as it goes back to sleep. “I miss you, too.”

He sighs loud enough for the mic to pick it up. “I know the war is almost over, it’s just…” He quickly turns towards a noise behind him that you can’t hear, and then you see a hologram of his back. You hear a muffled “No, sir” and something about reports before a few seconds of silence. Then his face returns, disgruntled from the encounter. 

“That was the General.”

You send him a rueful smile. “How is he?”

“I think he still looks for you, even after the Council told him to leave it be.” 

“Do you think he suspects you?”

He sighs again, wiping a gloved hand over his face. "Most likely– given our history. But he hasn't said anything yet, and I think he wants you to stay hidden until–"

Your perimeter alarm sounds and you whip around to the radar. A large spot blinks on the edge of the map and skirts along the perimeter. It’s moving too fast for it to be a stray animal. 

“What’s happening?” Wolffe says, panic lacing into his voice.

“Perimeter breach.” You stand, dumping the cat onto the ground, and grab your blaster rifle from its mount on the wall, slinging it over your shoulder. “I’m just going to check.”

“Okay, but…” He fumbles for words, his shoulders already showing his telltale signs of stress. “Take the pistols, too.”

You chuckle, sending him a lazy salute. “Yes, sir.” You sling your holster around your waist and cinch it tight, glancing up at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be safe. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can.” His eyes caress your face, memorizing every detail, and you do the same. “Just… come back to me.”

“Always.” You glance back at the map. The red spot on the radar is starting to move closer into the perimeter. “I’ve got to go. I love you.”

“I’ll see you soon, cyare.”

You shut off the holocom and wrap your hair and cover your nose and mouth in a scarf to protect from the dust. You take a deep breath and exit the farmhouse, stepping out into the sunshine of rural Naboo, your adrenaline fueling your determination. 

You climb up the rickety ladder onto the roof of your home as the wind kicks up dust around you. You crawl on your belly towards the ledge and take out a pair of monoculars and pull the rifle off of your back. 

The sprawling grassy plain stretches on for miles around you, and another gust of wind stirs up more dust and sways the tall grass like an ocean current. The air smells sweet with earthy aromas. The only sound is that brought from nearby birds soaring over the golden, dusty expanses.

The monoculars finally pick up movement to your left, and you zoom in. Eleven speeder bikes fly over the grass towards your farm, the Devaronian pirate at the front continually barking orders to the other men. 

You watch as they draw closer, and you put down the monoculars and close your eyes. You draw on the Force, feeling every grain of sand that touches your face, every gust of wind that caresses each blade of grass. Your mind touches the wildlife surrounding your farm, their presence like a living heartbeat, and you urge them to help you. They all answer the call: the bogwings soar overhead in flight, the herd of gualaars gallop across the land towards you, while the long-legged ikopis stand ready for battle. A narglatch appears below you, and you drop onto its back and grab onto its blue spiky mane, feeling its fan-like tail swish back and forth as it anticipates your command, its claws digging into the dirt. 

Suddenly, you hear the cries of the pirates and explosions as the bogwings attack the raiders, snatching a few from their speeders and flying high into the sky. With a cry, you urge the narglatch into battle, and it takes off, each stride bringing you closer. 

The herd of gualaars arrives, knocking the lackeys off their speeders and trampling them into the dirt. Quickening your pace, blasterfire lights up the horizon and your sight blurs with all the commotion around you– fire, raiders, claws scraping against speeders… with the ferocious movements of the other wildlife and a cacophony of howling noises surrounding you, the narglatch launches itself at one of the speeders. You leap off its back in midair and take steady aim at the Devaronian. With one clean shot of the rifle, you bring down the raiding party's leader. 

Not even thirty seconds pass after you send the all-clear signal to Wolffe before he calls you. His chest plate is soiled with clay dirt, and a new blaster burn glows across his right pauldron. Past his helmeted face you can see stray plasma bolts and his brothers rushing into battle.

“You’re okay,” he simply states. His voice crackles over the comm. Around him, screams and shouts fill the air.

“Wolffe, are you in the middle of a battlefield?!” You ask incredulously. 

“I had to see you to–” His voice is drowned out by an explosion nearby. Heavy clay dirt rains down on his armor, yet he remains looking at you through the comm. 

“Yes, I’m okay, but please get down–”

"Marry me."

Your words squeak to a stop, your mouth hanging open as you stare at this holographic image. Against the backdrop of blood and sweat that surrounded him, the words felt so surreal; but the intensity in his voice was clear, an unspoken tenderness hidden beneath the force of war. 

A clone behind him falls into view before scrambling back up and into the fight. Wolffe continues, his pace quickening as he rushes to push out his sentence. "It won't be anything official since us clones aren't citizens of the Republic, but I can get us rings, and–"

"Yes."

"Yes," he echoes. "Yes," he repeats, and you know he’s smiling underneath his helmet.  

"Yes," you answer again, beaming at him.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

His call brings a smile to your face, but when his face appears on the holocom, your smile dissolves.

“Wolffe, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“We’ve found General Grievous.” 

You sit up straight, your eyes wide. “Oh my– that’s it, isn’t it? It’s really–”

“The 212th is going to apprehend him. It’s over,” he breathes. “It’s over.”

He looks away and his comm retreats behind his back. There is a moment of silence before you hear a “right away”, and it’s another moment before you see his face again. 

“I’ve got to go. We’re taking back Cato Neimoidia once and for all.” He stops, his face falling slightly.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, brows furrowing.

“I’m not sure…” he trails off. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do after this… I’ve– We’ve– been bred for war. What do we do when there’s no next battle?” 

His words hang heavily in the air between you, as if a pall of smoke settles on both of your shoulders. You search for words that make sense as his soft brown eyes look to you for guidance. Both of you had been so young when it started— too young— sent into war before you had a chance to understand what it all meant.

“We’ll just have to figure that out together.”

He nods, and he forcefully expels a deep breath that he had been holding onto in anticipation. You hear a muffled shout in the background and Wolffe nods at the voice. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you soon, cyar’ika.”

He holds his hand up and you follow suit, intertwining your hands with his holographic ones. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The emergency beacon flashes on your communicator, filling you with a frenzied joy. The Republic did it. Wolffe is free. You answer, your congratulations forming on your lips.

Wolffe is a picture of stress, his figure huddled in on itself; his eyes were sunken with worry, his shoulders stiff and tight with exhaustion. It takes him a moment to process who you are before launching into frantic instructions, his voice heavy with fear. "Pack your bags and leave Naboo immediately." 

“w–What–”

“You get onto the nearest shuttle, buy a ticket under a fake name, and–”

“Wolffe, slow down. What's going on?”

“Something's wrong. My brothers…” he trails off, his eyes searching for something before returning to you. “They killed him.”

Your blood runs cold, but you prod him anyways. “They killed…”

“They killed General Koon… and I’ve overheard them. They’re–” He snarls. “They’re looking for you. You need to get out of there– leave no trace, do you hear me?”

You sputter, incredulous. “Me? What about you? You’re on board with them!” You frantically reach for him, your hand passing through his digitized form. “What’s going on– what did I do? Why do they want to kill me–” 

“They won’t,” he says with a finality that makes you want to believe him, his voice sending an undeniable chill through you. He quickly glances over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go. I’ve sent you coordinates. Meet me there. I won’t be able to contact you from this holocom again.”

He searches your face desperately, memorizing every detail. “If I don’t–”

“Don’t,” you interject, your voice quivering as your Jedi trials flash in your mind. “Don’t you start.”

“I want to get married to you, and do mundane things like garden and laundry with you.” His lashes glint in the fluorescence of the Triumphant. “I will make it back to you.”

You choke on a sob, nodding incoherently. “Okay… okay. I’ll wait for you.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll see you soon, cyare. I love you so much.”

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The dry heat was oppressive, radiating off the salt flats and saturating the air with parching temperatures as you nail another board into place. A bead of salty sweat trickles down your forehead only to evaporate at once; in this arid landscape there is no reprieve from the blistering sun above. 

Surrounding you are endless stretches of dry salt flats, the searing heat of the sun reflecting off their white surface, leaving it to glitter in the sunlight. According to the local exiles, in the next few weeks these fields will partially flood with water as the wet season begins, transforming this region into something new altogether. The only wildlife that resides here are joopa worms, creatures the size of leviathans, that roam the region and prey upon settlers. 

Seelos was barren and dangerous, but you stayed. And you waited. 

Days turn into nights, and the wet season is almost upon you, the aroma almost palpable in the air. You meditate underneath the cloudy night sky, bathing in the cosmic glow. A gentle breeze blows through the silent flats, the coolness seeping into your bones and reemerging in the form of a quiet tranquility. 

The perimeter alarm sounds nearby, and you stand and climb down from the roof of your home and into the garage. The red dot blinks lazily as the signature on the screen slowly makes its way towards you. Your brow furrows. 

You snatch your monoculars from its hook as you sprint out the door and into the darkness. Your hands shake as you mash buttons on the monoculars, smacking it a little as it boots up too slow. You need to–you must– have to see. You grip them tightly, your knuckles turning white as you hold them up and peer through the lens.

You can hear the radar light blipping frantically as you take in the figure slowly approaching. White armor glints in the partial light of the moon, and you can make out familiar markings on the chestplate and gauntlets. You drop the monoculars and start running, adrenaline rushing through your body like a freight train, anticipation building with every step towards him. 

The cool breeze whips your face as the clouds break above, rain droplets falling onto the salt flats and hitting you. The figure starts running too as the rain begins to pour. You can feel the droplets on your skin and taste the salt in the air. You're so close and you give a cry of joy as you rush into Wolffe’s arms. Then he's holding onto you tightly, his shoulders trembling as he cries into your hair. You reverently kiss his shoulder, his chest, and his hands. You rain kisses on his face as the rainstorm drenches you both. 

His warm breath is on your face and he grabs your face with both hands and kisses you with all he has, not caring that your noses bump and teeth clash, each kiss communicating an ocean's worth of love more than words ever could.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The metal from his wedding band catches in the lamplight and you huff a laugh. “Still wearing the ring to bed, I see.”

“Always.” He curls up behind you, burying his face in your hair. “I like the reminder that you’re mine.”

You hum softly, enjoying the warmth he radiates. “And that you’re mine.” You glance over your shoulder at him. “But most people still take their rings off when it’s bedtime.”

“I’ll take off the ring at night when you don’t hog the bed.”

“I do not!” You playfully try to shimmy away from Wolffe’s embrace, but he holds you against him. “Hogging the bed would mean I’m selfish, and that’s not the Jedi way.” 

“You’re not a Jedi, so there goes your entire argument.”

You decide not to dignify that with a response.

He lets out a sleepy chuckle and kisses your shoulder. “Your silence is as good of an answer as words.”

You bite your lip, trying to think of a comeback. “Remember our wedding night?”

Wolffe groans, throwing his head back for dramatic effect. “Don’t remind me. It was so embarrassing.”

You hide your chuckle. “I thought your ‘moves’ were… endearing.”

“I drew hearts on my boxers with a red pen.”

“And it was,” you involuntarily let out a snort of laughter, “unique, and–”

“Alright, alright– you win. Cheater.” He settles on his back and you turn to rest your head on his chest. 

The room is silent for a moment before he speaks again, his gentle words filling the silence. “After all we’ve been through, I am… eternally grateful that this is how it ended up.”

You close your eyes to revel in the moment. You open them as he lifts your chin towards him and kisses you delicately. You sigh contentedly as you pull away, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Promise you won’t let me go.”

He lightly brushes his thumb across your knuckles. “Never.”

[stellanslashgeode]

WiP Wednesday on a Friday

Here's a sneak peek at the start of the Vampire Hunter AU. I'm inspired by @charmwasjess and their own WiP to get this underway.

  Autumn leaves crunched under her feet as Ahsoka reentered the long-abandoned power plant. The sky was turning vivid orange and purple behind her; but the rising sun did little to subvert the gloom of the building interior. The leaves were the only sound, and the dawn’s light and whatever anemic light penetrating the dust and cobweb patina on windows to the exterior provided the only light. 

  Ahsoka sought to swallow the knot of nervous energy in her throat and reached for the glowrod attached to her belt. She shined a vivid bright white LED beam cutting a blade through the gloom, light bouncing off every dust mote.

  She could have called out to her partner, but the plaintive exclamation died in her windpipe, blocked by that knot of grief at her trachea. 

  “Go on in, Ahsoka. That fiend must be asleep by now.”

  She was retracing steps she had taken with Barriss a week previously. Ahsoka looked over her shoulder as if she could see her companion, her fellow Jedi vampire slayer at her side.

  She looked up from her trusty datapad and smiled brightly. Her adorable Cupid’s-bow lips gently curled into a sly smile just for her. Just for her. Like lucious ribbons securing a present for her to unwrap. The screen left dual rectangles of reflected blue light on her glasses. Her stupid sexy glasses. She had her hair tied back in a bun and covered with a kerchief. 

  Otherwise she was dressed like an office secretary. Ahsoka never could grasp how she refused to alter her costume for missions. Ahsoka had her combat gear on, her plate-reinforced vest with the stiff metal collar over her throat. A garlic garland strung across her shoulders like a feather boa. She was holding her stake already, even here at the door in morning sunlight.

  And Barriss in a blouse, pencil skirt, kitten heels, and hose like it was a Tuesday at the office.

  “You’re sure she’s in here.” Ahsoka sought to intone it as a statement rather than a question.

  “According to my data this is the central point where the attacks originate. We are doomed to chase down its victims in villages all over the province unless we slay the monster inhabiting this old plant. Exterminate the queen, and the nest withers and dies.” 

  She pushed up the tortoiseshell frame of her glasses casually with a pinkie finger. Ahsoka was suddenly struck by the urge to grab her wrist and take that delicate digit into her mouth and surround it with her warm wet tongue. But she banished that urge lest her fellow Jedi hunter read her thoughts or emotions.

  She nodded and gave her a half-smile. “Okay.”

  Ahsoka was scared, but having Barriss here both as support and as a loved one to protect bolstered her. This wasn’t their first rodeo. As Jedi Knights they had joined a holy army of the light in opposition to these Sith bloodsucking freaks. Their masters had paired the two together after they showed how effective they were as a team. Perhaps they had also noted the attraction that grew by the day when they were together? Perhaps. Perhaps they sought the knights to overcome the temptations of the emotions and the flesh by serving the light together as a dyad.

  But damn, she wanted to kiss her right now. In this lull before confronting a great evil. Just to reassure each other and to get Ahsoka’s blood pumping rearing for the fight.

  “Let’s go, then. For light and life.”

  She tilted her head and her smile grew. Ahsoka’s heart leapt into her throat.

  Ahsoka sighed. She was returning here a failure and alone now. Barriss was either dead or a creature subverted by evil. And the best option was death. It would be a blessing to find her corpse inside.

  She spent a few days and dreamless nights at the tavern, in the room they rented together, in the one bed they had vacant, drinking herself into a stupor each night and secretly wishing to be awakened by Barriss’s fingernails tapping on the exterior of the third-floor window. Asking to be invited in.