#fic: holy war

[aggressivelyaverage21]

@possibly-a-possum ‘a amazing take on Kiva, Beatrice’s dog from my fic Holy War and I am in awe

🥹🥰

[jedi-enthusiast]

My [completed] CodyWan Fic Masterlist

This is going to be a very long list of all my favorite CodyWan fics that are completed. Later on today or tomorrow I'll make another list for all of the CodyWan fics I enjoy that are currently ongoing/incomplete (because we, in fandom, need to start supporting authors during the writing process instead of only after, but that's a whole other post).

The fics are gonna be separated by Modern AU, Canon-Divergent/Canon-ish, Crack, and Canon But a Little to the Left. Full Disclaimer: this is going to be a very long list, so the triggers and descriptions will be brief--make sure you read the tags and warnings before reading!

I don't know who these authors are on tumblr, so I can't tag them, but I recommend that you guys tag them if you recognize them--because they deserve all the love <3 and I think, especially now, we need to let fic authors know that we appreciate them.

Modern AU

212th Street Coffee by thosewhowanderwithfire 

Cody runs a coffee shop, Obi-Wan comes in frequently with a different members of his friends/family and Cody learns a lot about his crazy life by eavesdropping.

bury me beneath the tree i climbed when i was a child by stormwarnings 

Obi-Wan's family life is messy, to say the least. Cody and his family work as firefighters/EMTs/etc. and Obi-Wan kinda just gets adopted into the family by constantly needing to call the firefighters/EMTs/etc.

Coruscant Story by TyeDyeBoogers

A mafia AU thing where Obi-Wan and Cody are both in different mafia families, but then they date each other pretending to be regular normal people (bc neither of them know they're in the mafia, much less different families), and then a bunch of stuff happens and drama ensues.

TW: Murder, Violence

cradle my name on your tongue by jynx 

Running from an abusive ex, Obi-Wan and Anakin move to a small town where they set up their tattoo and piercing shop. Obi-Wan quickly falls for Cody, the florist across the street, but bad things happen when Obi-Wan's ex just won't give up.

TW: Violence, Abusive Relationship, Drugging, Attempted SA (this doesn't go into detail, but it's still there)

Foreign Affairs by ro_moray 

Obi-Wan and Anakin come to America as foreign ambassadors, Cody is one of their bodyguards. Both Obi-Wan and Cody fall head over heels quickly, and there's some political drama via Maul.

TW: Violence (I think?)

Hey Bartender by Wxlves 

Obi-Wan and Cody both work as bartenders at Dex's, they become FWB, and feelings ensue.

I've Served My Time In Hell by TheSleepingOne (SleepingNebula) 

There's a zombie apocalypse going on and Obi-Wan is repeatedly fucked over by the universe in the form of being forced to spend time around his ex, Cody, and Cody's very protective family.

TW: Violence, Gore

Liminal Beings by ChubbstheFish 

Cody is the lighthouse keeper in a small town with his family. Obi-Wan and his family move into said small town and become close with Cody's family, but it quickly becomes clear that Obi-Wan and his family aren't exactly what they seem--aka human.

Not Denial by spqr 

Obi-Wan is a PI and Cody is the sorry moron who falls head over heels for him after meeting him exactly once.

TW: Violence

Seeker Prospector by brigitttt

Cody is a bounty hunter looking for his father, Obi-Wan is just trying to study dinosaur bones. The two meet, fuck, and then catch feelings.

TW: Violence, Mild Gore (I think)

We’ll Do This Together by MageOfCole 

Obi-Wan and Cody have a one night stand and Cody accidentally gets Obi-Wan pregnant (of the trans variety, not the a/b/o variety). Obi-Wan tries to hide this from Cody and his family, but Obi-Wan's family doesn't know how to mind their own business. Family hijinks ensue.

What…a sleep over? by Wixiany

Cody's family decides to host a party, but he needs to study, so he heads over to Anakin's brother's house to get some peace and quiet. He wasn't ready for how pretty Obi-Wan was.

You Gave Me the World that I Wanted by Legogirl22 

Cody has to take care of his family, so he swears up and down that he won't fall for the cute bookkeeper he keeps seeing. He fails. Miserably.

Canon Divergent/Canon-ish

A Ghost or a Man by smallandangry 

Obi-Wan makes a life for himself on Tatooine, eventually Cody finds him, and the locals get attached to both.

A New Life by cwiptids 

Rex and Echo hear about a clone on Tatooine...guess who they meet and take another guess as to who they're married to.

end of the road by adiduck (book_people)

Obi-Wan and Cody spar before Utapau and make unfulfilled promises.

Glimpse Of Us by fingerstripesofchaos 

Post-Order 66 angst fic, just like...loads of angst. This is not a happy fic at all, it made me cry.

TW: Suicide Mention/Reference

Haven’t Felt Like This My Dear by Bluebellstar

Cody gets a hangover and is a total baby about it, Obi-Wan is very amused.

little white truths by imperiousphasmid 

Obi-Wan gets injured and only family and spouse(s) are allowed to see him...I think you know where this is going.

Made by Walking by piotsa  

After Order 66, Quinlan finds Cody and then Cody finds Obi-Wan.

not dead yet by keylimemagpie (QuickSilverFox3)

✨ smut with emotions ✨

Our children our future (that we didn’t know of) by Feniksiara   

After Order-66 Cody finds out that the Kaminoans decided to use Obi-Wan and Cody's DNA to make Force-sensitive clones...then the Mandalorian dad genes kick in.

Standard Operating Procedures by galateaGalvanized

A mission goes wrong and suddenly almost the entire 212th is in love with Obi-Wan...except, it appears, Cody. Y'all know exactly where this is going.

all the world in my arms by biscuityskies 

Obi-Wan has nightmares after Kadavo, then shit goes to hell on a mission, and Cody worries--also Anakin and biscuityskies' OC Hex are little shits.

where the fields are painted gold by biscuityskies

The 212th end up crashing in the forest, so Obi-Wan and Cody get some "camping out in the forest" cuddles and also banter.

night spar by cabezadeperro (minigami) 

Obi-Wan and Cody spar at night, and there is a lot of tension. Not of the fun kind, though.

chain of command by cabezadeperro (minigami) 

Obi-Wan and Cody are undercover and eventually have to find some way to keep the people tracking them from finding them. If you've watched Marvel, you know where this is going.

In the Treetops by ebw_writes499 

After a mission on Kashyyyk everyone needs to go to bed, which they do...all the way up in the trees.

Caretaker by ebw_writes499 

On Tatooine, Cody gets sick and Obi-Wan has to take care of him. Obi-Wan is a worrier.

Love Despite the Distance by ebw_writes499 

After the war, Cody and Rex comm each other to catch up. Also Cody became a senator against his will.

Overworked by ebw_writes499 

Obi-Wan and Cody both had the same idea and that idea was "sneak off to take a nap."

Compartment Syndrome by elwenyere 

After a bad crash, Obi-Wan is knocked out and Cody is injured. Cody carries Obi-Wan through all the danger while reminiscing, certain that he'll be decommissioned after due to his injury.

TW: Mild Gore? (of the "description of injury" variety)

Good Soldiers by elwenyere 

A story about Obi-Wan and Cody throughout the War and after Order 66, with a happy ending.

Don’t Worry It's A Very High Threadcount by goldleaf1066 

Obi-Wan uses a blanket to warm up instead of Cody and Cody is very fussy about it. It gets a little angsty near the end, but things end good.

And Our Faces Toward the Sun by goldleaf1066 

The War ends and Cody and Obi-Wan share a kiss.

I'll Bend Your Light Around Me (A Sunrise At My Back) by goldleaf1066   

A sweet little story about Obi-Wan and Cody throughout the war, with a happy ending!

Stepping In, Stepping Out by goldleaf1066   

Cody and Obi-Wan take turns covering for each other when they oversleep.

With Both Our Hands Around It by goldleaf1066

Obi-Wan and Cody discuss their relationship while also participating in some extracurricular activities.

Crack Fics

Compulsive Honesty by afoundling 

Cody, Obi-Wan, and some of the 212th get dosed with truth serum and just have to let it run its course.

Fools and Idiots by BehindBrokenWindows 

Somehow everyone gets it in their heads that Obi-Wan and Padme are fucking, and Anakin is not happy when he finds out. We all know who he's really fucking.

Operation “who’s kriffing the General” by Sweet_bubbs 

Everyone finds out that Obi-Wan is in a relationship with someone, but they don't know who--but boy do they want to find out.

Resignation in more than one sense by BitterChocolateStars   

Obi-Wan tries to resign, Mace is a little shit (affectionate) and says no, and hijinks ensue.

Time to Celebrate by Kurosaki224   

Kurosaki's OC just wants to talk to his superiors after the war and ends up seeing a lot more than he wants to.

Rex finds out by The_neurodivergent_nerd   

Exactly what it sounds like.

The Trickster by The_neurodivergent_nerd  

A long dead Sith lord has a great sense of humor.

Canon But a Little to the Left

closed together by numbika 

Obi-Wan is blind AU where Obi-Wan and Cody get stuck in an elevator together.

I Got My Head Checked by frostbitebakery   

Sith Obi-Wan AU where Cody falls in love with Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan changes the course of the War because Cody and his brothers make him realize he still has his heart.

TW: Violence, Self Harm (of the "making a sith" variety)

Marriage in Disguise by bjjones   

Oops! Looks like to make peace with Mandalore, the Jedi will just have to send Obi-Wan to get married to Cody, son of Manda'lor Jango Fett. They totally weren't dating before this.

We’ll Meet Again by little_dumpling

Obi-Wan doesn't become a Jedi Knight and instead works in the MediCorps and becomes a doctor, then he ends up meeting Cody on Geonosis.

TW: Medical Gore (I think?)

What came after by galateaGalvanized  http://archiveofourown.org/works/29595831 

Obi-Wan has gone full Sith and is on Mandalore, Cody and the 212th go to get their general.

[librathefangirl]

Sneak peek from "A Brother Is a Brother (No Matter the War)"

The truth was... Zeldris missed his older brother. As much as he tried to ignore it, it was there like a deep ache in his bones. There was a void in his hearts that only seemed to grow with each passing day. The demon standing in front of him was no longer his brother, but when he spoke his name in that way, it was easy to forget. Hours ago, things would have been different. Now, it was harder to associate the burning hatred in his veins with the worried gaze and soft thumb brushing tears from his cheek. Meliodas had always been the one person who could make him feel safe in the castle, especially when Zeldris felt insecure and vulnerable. Zeldris had never felt more vulnerable than he did in that moment; poisoned and used.

[baddest-batchers]

Not So Secret

Tag warnings: MDNI (younglings begone), slightly suggestive, small hint at intimacy, very passionate kissing, confident/soft Tech, overall fluffy sweetness

This is a little prequel ficlet to “More Than Life” I debated posting this because I just wasn’t happy with how it was unfolding so I’ve rewritten it a few times and am finally ready to share it!

Just for a little backstory, Jayla is my Jedi OC. She’s newly knighted and she’s been assigned to Clone Force 99 as their semi permanent Jedi general. Big surprise she is head over heels in love with Tech.

I hope y’all enjoy!

Taglist: @techwrecker

Needy, desperate, unabashed wanting.

Those four words were the only way to describe the hot, open mouth kisses Tech was placing down Jayla's neck. Her soft whimpering at his increasingly wanting touch was only fueling the fire that burned low in Tech's core.

The pair found themselves taking every chance to express their affection in increasingly heated ways whenever the rest of the Batch had vacated the Marauder. This precious time that they would get alone was always seemingly too short and they found themselves having to quickly disentangle themselves from each other before Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, and Echo would return.

"Tech!" Jayla's voice came out breathy and hot against his ear. "They're coming—Tech, my love, we have to—“

"Yes, I know. I can hear the unmistakable sound of Wrecker's footsteps." Tech said into the soft spot between her neck and shoulder.

He pulled back slightly to take a longing look into her face, still flushed from his kisses and eyes filled with desire.

“We will have tell them sooner rather than later, mesh’la.” Tech said in a lowered voice. The sound alerting whomever was occupying the cockpit that the main hatch had been opened sounded.

A disappointing sigh escaped Jayla’s lips as she glanced at the Marauder’s blinking console, “Sooner would probably be better, wouldn’t it?” She said while returning her gaze to Tech’s handsome face.

His goggles had become slightly askew amidst their passionate kisses. Jayla reached with both hands that had previously been resting on his chest plate to fix them back to their proper position on his face. Tech did not let her go as she did so and looked at her with a soft gaze through his now corrected goggles.

“Ah, thank you, cyare.” Tech said in a low voice. Before Jayla could fully retract her one hand, he gently brought her fingers to his lips, pressing featherlight kisses to them. The redness that had begun to dissipate from Jayla’s cheeks suddenly returned as Tech continued to trail tender kisses slowly down to her wrist.

“My love…” She began in gentle protest, knowing the rest of his squad would appear at any moment. Tech’s eyes remained locked with hers as he continued to trail kisses almost to the end of her forearm. His gaze wandered over her soft festures as he relinquished her arm from his grasp. Jayla wrapped both her arms around Tech’s middle and pulled him in a bit closer.

Both of them exchanged soft smiles as they stood enveloped in each other’s arms. After a moment Tech spoke again, “Sooner would most likely yield better reactions, especially from Hunter.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind Jaya’s ear before resting his hand on her waist again.

A beat of silence fell between them and nothing but the hum of the ship’s standby systems could be heard in the cockpit until Jayla sighed a bit heavily as her head came to rest against Tech’s chest plate.

“What is it, mesh’la?” Tech took notice of the slight tenseness that had settled in her shoulders as she tightened her arms around his middle.

“Do you think Hunter would report me to the Jedi Council if we tell him about us?” She said as she lifted her head to look up at him.

Tech considered her question for a moment, his amber brown eyes taking in the concern that had appeared between her brows.

“I do not believe Hunter would do such a thing, as it has become clear that other Jedi have conducted romantic relationships with regs and the like throughout out several battalions.” He placed a soft kiss between her brows to smooth the crease that had formed there.

Tech was not wrong, he seldom ever was, and he had discovered after some digging around on a few anonymous holonet forums that romantic relationships amongst Jedi generals and clones were becoming more common as the war dragged on.

In the end, Tech gathered that while romantic relationships between superiors and subordinates, let alone the Jedi and anyone for that matter, were expressly prohibited by the GAR regulations, following the rules had never been his nor his brothers’ forte. Besides, Tech thought to himself, when had they ever followed orders?

“If you would prefer it, I will talk to him about our, ehm,” He cleared his throat shyly while his face flushed ever so slightly, “relationship.” The unexpectedly pleasant situation Tech had found himself in with Jayla was still so new to him. He never expected to fall in love, being that he was born and bred to be a soldier and nothing more. But she had shown him that he could be more than just a soldier, more than a small part in the war they were all fighting. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Besides, Hunter is more than likely already aware of us, given his enhanced senses.”

A new blush crept up into Jayla’s cheeks as she laid her head down again on Tech’s chest plate. Falling in love was as foreign to her as it was to him and it was something that neither of them expected to happen. Jayla had tried to bury her feelings in the beginning, being that she was a Jedi and attachments are forbidden, blah, blah, blah. But she soon realized, much to her surprise, that what she felt for Tech was so much more than just a simple crush or attraction and denying her feelings was no longer possible.

“He definitely knows. Stars, it’s not like we’ve been trying terribly hard to hide ourselves from your brothers anyway.” She admitted softly against him.

“Yes, well, half heartedly sneaking around them is rather difficult within the confines of the Marauder.” Tech mused as he traced circles through the fabric of her tunic on her back.

Jayla lifted her head from his chest and smiled at him while bringing her arms to wrap around his neck. “I’ve never been good at sneaking around, anyway.”

Her eyes drifted down to his lips as he drew her up into another longing kiss. It took everything inside Tech not to continue kissing her, but his brother’s voices could now be heard on the other side of the cockpit doors.

A loud knock on the cockpit door pulled them from their perfect little bubble, accompanied by Wrecker’s booming voice.

“Hey, are you two done makin’ out in there?? It’s time for our next mission debrief!” Wrecker teased. Tech and Jayla could hear Crosshair snickering and Echo stifling a chuckle at their brother’s loud teasing.

“Oh, Tech, they all definitely know!” Jayla giggled while pulling back from him to cover the grin that had spread across her face.

“Indeed, it would appear that they do.” Tech chuckled. He snaked his arms tighter around Jayla’s waist, “Perhaps, being that my brothers are aware of us and what we are up to, and if you are amenable, we could stay in here until the last possible moment so that I may continue to kiss you.” Tech had lowered his voice so that his brothers, who were undoubtedly attempting to listen through the cockpit door, could not hear his bold suggestion.

“Tech!” Jayla half squealed his name, trying to keep her voice low. Her heart raced at his sudden suggestion and her cheeks flushed pink.

“Yes, cyare?” Tech’s eyes were half lidded behind his goggles now and his voice barely above a whisper.

Jayla half heartedly tried to say something to the effect that they shouldn’t keep the others waiting but she couldn’t seem to get the words out. She was too lost in his soft brown eyes to try and protest again. Her eyes drifted down to his lips then back up to his eyes as she lifted herself up to her tiptoes to meet him as he closed what little space remained between them.

Another loud knock resonated around the cockpit. “Yes, Wrecker, we are coming,” Tech broke their kiss just long enough to say.

“Alright, you two, you both can suck face later. We have a mission to get to.” Hunter’s voice caused Jayla to bring both her hands to cover her face in shy embarrassment while her eyes flitted back and forth between Tech’s.

“Kriff, there’s no hiding from them now, is there?” Jayla giggled as Tech reluctantly released her form from his grasp.

The corners of Tech’s mouth pulled into an amused smile, “I am inclined to agree with you.”

He took her hand into his own as they walked the few steps to the cockpit door.

“Shall we, cyare?” Tech asked, clear affection radiating in his tone while his other hand hovered over the door panel.

Jayla nodded up at him with a soft smile on her face before dropped her gaze down to their intertwined hands. Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, she brought herself up onto her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“There’s no turning back now.” She smiled up at him, his eyes reflecting back the confidence and kindness she had come to admire so much.

Tech’s eyes roved over her soft features once more, spending a lingering moment on her delicate lips. An almost mischievous smile tugged at his mouth as he leaned down to meet her.

Before Jayla knew it, Tech was mere inches from her face, the look in his eyes was as suggestive as it had been before they were interrupted by his brothers.

“One last kiss, since it will be several rotations before we are alone again.” Tech whispered before bringing his free hand to cup her cheek, pulling her into a deep, wanting kiss.

•••

[crazylittlejester]

whumptober day 15: alt prompt: shiver

summary: Warriors was allowed to be fun and silly, he was allowed to do stupid things too. If he wanted to start a snowball fight, then so be it!! Just... MAYBE he shouldn't have started it so close to the lake

[necrotic-nephilim]

https://www.tumblr.com/necrotic-nephilim/763098417058775040/no-thoughts-only-jaytim-fucking-in-titans-tower?source=share

+

https://www.tumblr.com/necrotic-nephilim/760168597014413312/bftc-jaytim-fuck-nasty-in-their-batman-suits?source=share

every time these 2 are left alone to fit it ends like this❤️

it ABSOLUTELY does. i love that i have gotten to write a BftC fic and a Titans Tower fic that is just. JayTim fucking nasty. i think these two should end every fistfight with them having sex in increasingly risky places. it's the only way they should resolve their fights from now on, ty for coming to my tedtalk.

[skyphloxx]

ok so um. here is a scenario ive had in the drafts for literally over a month and forgot to post. maybe with a second part idk?

i've been thinking way too damn much about clegan and johns dog coded ass and his feelings around body markings. like, hickeys and bites and bruises etc. bear with me this post got really long lmfao.

fuckin. ok. so in a scenario where john and gale are fucking on the side pretty early on after their arrival at thorpe abbots.

everyone knows bucky is a slut, right? bucky can show up with hickeys and bites and red marks and nobody will question it. he might get jeers or crooked grins, they’ll laugh and say he must’ve slept with every girl on base and half the women in london by now, but it’s expected.

buck, though? everyone knows buck’s got a girl. and maybe he wouldn’t be the first guy to say as much and then fold after months of being away from home. but everybody who knows him knows that buck cleven isn’t like that. and anyway, it would be a little odd considering how consistently he turns down any woman who makes a pass.

you see where i'm going here right.

gale can bite the fuck out of john and leave him with bruises purpling from his neck all the way down to his thighs. when they’re alone together it’s the only time he gets to loosen that iron grip he has on himself, be anything less than carefully composed and controlled. outside gale is the fearless leader, who will sometimes joke and rib but has no vices, no faults. with john he is a hungry, wanting thing, all hands and mouth and teeth.

bucky loves it at first. being desired so much kinda drives him wild, knowing that gale wants him so bad, that there’s so much heat simmering under that cool surface. but there’s also something about the act of leaving marks on him that feels like gale’s staking a claim. that bucky allowing himself to be bitten is showing allegiance, or acquiescence, or maybe ownership. something of gale is left there, written across his skin, even if nobody else knows it. the marks say that gale can do what he wants with john’s body, that john is his. he’s painted his name across john’s neck and chest.

bucky doesn’t object to this feeling. like, at all. on its own, that part is amazing. the problem is he can’t do it back to gale. buck is so paranoid about being found out, and the communal living of the barracks adds extra complications. and john understands his fears, of course he does, he knows damn well what happens to men who get blue tickets, and he’ll respect anything that’ll help buck feel safer about what they’ve been doing. he’s pretty sure he’d do anything to keep buck coming back, he needs him that badly.

he fucking hates that he has to be so careful. he wants nothing more than to give it right back to buck, to bite the same kind of lurid purple bruises across his skin. he thinks all too often of how buck would react, his shiver at the scrape of john's teeth on sensitive skin and the low breathy noises he'd make. hates that he can't have that. but mostly he hates how he can't stake any claim over gale he way he feels that gale has over him. if buck can do what he wants with john's body, if his bites mean that john is his, then the inverse must also be true: bucky can't do the same, and gale is not his. he has no claim to stake.

which makes sense, really. as far as claims go, someone's already beat him to gale. that's the whole reason the no-markings rule was established.*

it ends up serving as a little reminder to bucky: that the arrangement he and gale have worked out to keep each other sane during all this? it's temporary. when the war ends buck will be going back to build a home and share a bed with someone, and that someone won't be john. he can't forget that however much gale seems to want him in the moment, he's committed elsewhere. john is a way for him to distract himself from everything else going on around them. he thinks sometimes gale does it as much to distract john as himself. taking pity on him or something. he knows buck still loves marge more than anything. he uses her letters like a lifeline, sniffs her perfume off the paper like it might send him back to her if he works hard enough at it.

someone with a better sense of self-preservation than bucky might try to break it off, disengage, try to soften the blow when it inevitably comes, but.

the marks also remind him that he is gale's. has been. is. will be. for as long as gale will have him. bucky needs him in a way that he doesn't bother to deny to himself anymore. his chest feels heavy with it when they’re together. he knows they're on borrowed time, but that just means john's going to borrow as much of it as he can. avoiding leaving bruises or not using his teeth is nothing, really, he would do so much less (or so much more) if gale asked him, any number of humiliating, desperate things to keep gale wanting to touch him, fuck him. it's fucking pathetic, how much he needs that. john's own stupid hurt feelings are nothing, compared to how much he'd endure for it.

so of course he never brings this whole dilemma up to buck as something that bothers him. he would not dare risk throwing a wrench in their arrangement, which is perfectly functional as it is. they've made it this far via mostly unspoken agreements, mutual willingness to not talk about it more than they need to. john will not even entertain the possibility of breaking that or scaring gale off or somehow ruining what they have. he is already so well versed at suffering in silence, and really this trade off isn't bad. he used to fucking dream of this, the taste of gale's mouth or the feel of their skin pressed together. he can stand being reminded it's temporary. he can stand knowing he's pathetic.

(bucky is a lying liar to himself. he is full of resentment and frustration. he will pretend he's not full of resentment about this for as long as it's physically possible to. gale knows something is up with him but won't say anything too specific about it for the same reason john won't - they don't talk about it if they can avoid it. that's the whole point of unspoken agreements.)

*bucky has not considered that gale would be similarly paranoid even if he was not openly in a relationship and loyal to it (loyal in heavy air quotes lmfao) if not even worse, just because gale cleven is a high-strung freak underneath all the calm collected shit.

[midnight-melancholiaaa]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Andor (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply 

Relationships: Kleya Marki/Mon Mothma, Mon Mothma & Vel Sartha Characters: Kleya Marki, Mon Mothma, Luthen Rael, Vel Sartha 

Additional Tags: Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, well. with a little extra blood., Assassination Attempt(s), Bodyguard, Murder Wives, what if i cleaned your bloodstains. and buried a body with you. and we were both girls., no kissing just bloodied homoeroticism, actually, Almost Kiss, mon character study with a monkleya hat, Character Study, Introspection, Flashbacks, 14k words of mon being stressed, but she gets a sexy not-italian villa. as a treat., Planet Chandrila (Star Wars), can i tag the pervasive ghost of mon’s childhood as a character, ft/ vel tea drinking cameo, i hope you like subtext. there’s a lot of it, Extended Metaphors, i promise we get to the murder eventually, i just need my lesbian shenanigans to have Overly Considered Plot, Chandrilan Culture & Customs (Star Wars), some inspiration from legends, talk to me about chandrila i’m normal i promise

Summary:

And so, the body. An exercise in compartmentalisation, in camouflaging reality.

  And yet a moment later, the moonlight would shift and pool liquid over the contours, fabric rustling in breeze-kissed transience, settling into an almost-breathing mouth, and it could be nothing but a body.

  It disconcerted her. How easily a life could slip from something to nothing, and back again.

 ____

 Or: Mon Mothma, and the final loss of innocence.

[oftenlyshitposting]

wolfwren vampire/werewolf au | mini fic

sabine, as a juvenile vampire, used to wonder what it was like to interact with other supernaturals. back at the stonewalled confinements of the wren bastion, sabine is more used to briefly interacting with other vampires; mostly the staffs or other members of clan wren, distant relatives and whatsoever.

occasionally, a band of merlin would visit the bastion, bringing vials of potions and elixirs to supply the majik ritualists or to perform some kind of blood majik ritual that the clan wren has always done. but, merlins are typically still human. they've just been blessed and often transformed through their majiks into in-between creatures.

sabine always wonder what it'd be like to meet other actual supernaturals; something that she and tristan used to wonder about together. tristan had always wanted to meet the elusive woodland elves, he's fascinated by their connection to nature and how nature appear to follow their will.

personally, sabine wonders about werewolves.

sabine knows that despite being civil with each other, werewolves and vampires aren't exactly the best of kins amongst supernaturals. werewolves are much more tribal and nomadic than vampires; they also often does not regard blood lineage, unlike vampires who must stay pure in order to keep their full vampirical blood majik powers.

sabine often envy that; to not be so tied to blood lineage and to not be demanded to bore full-blooded borns to be considered as a someone. the downfall of living in the wren bastion was that everyone knows she is the humanborn vampire; the disgrace of clan wren and house vizsla.

that was decades ago, sabine fled the bastion so many years ago to live far, far away from them.

now, sabine wonders less and less about interacting with werewolves; borderline regretting everything.

for the past few weeks, sabine has been travelling with this... enigmatically annoying rogue werewolf; shin hati. the rogue werewolf had stormed into her cottage one rainy night, in her true form nonetheless. if her materialising in her living area didn't baffle sabine, the sudden barrage of hunters arriving certainly did.

the werewolf had been chased by these suspiciously strong hunters, only managed to maim half of their party. sabine had to reluctantly aid the wolf at fighting them off because if she didn't, the hunters would've slain her and eventually came to slaughter sabine too.

six hunters came, and five of them were slaughtered by the wolf's and sabine's claws as the monster within sabine fed from their dying carcass. one of them miraculously managed to escape with half of his limbs still in tact to his body. sabine's cottage was a mess, and so was the wolf's true form. the first thing sabine instantly noticed was the scent of rotting flesh under the wolf's thick mane, and the black spreading under her skin. she'd been poisoned with a type of lichen; the slow and painful kind.

"wolf, you need to return to your human form," sabine commanded, earning a glare from the injured shifter in front of her. sabine held her head high against the werewolf. "you are injured. i can help."

the wolf's voice was gruff and harsh as she coughs out blood, "i do not need your help, bloodsucker."

sabine rolled her eyes, ignoring the insult as she went to her cabinet to grab her healing vials and a long iron rod which she tossed into her fireplace. with her back facing the wolf, she then spoke, "you've been poisoned with lichen. it will rot your flesh before you see the first light of dawn." sabine turns, her gaze sharp and serious. "unless you let me help you."

the wolf's glare was unyielding and unbroken, and in the dim of the stormy night with only her fireplace lighting up her cottage, sabine almost felt fear from looking into the wolf's vermilion eyes. her glare was broken when the wolf winced in agony, and sabine's eyes shift to her wound to see that it's beginning to rot further.

"wolf, come on," sabine almost pleaded, unsettled by the scent of rotting flesh, "you're dying. let me help you. you won't be indebted."

sabine watches as the wolf appeared to waver and argue with herself. she finally relented, shifting slowly back to her human form. sabine watch as her fur began to shrink, and pale ivory skin of a human replaces it, along with her height shrinking to that of a human posture. werewolf transformations are something sabine had never seen before, let alone one from a true wolf.

the wolf is now a regular human, a woman who looked physically around sabine's age. bone-white textured hair falls short just above her broad yet slender shoulder, her skin pale from the injury if sabine had to guess. she's taller than sabine, slightly. she looks... young.

the wolf spoke, voice less gruff, but still harsh, "make it quick."

sabine instructed the wolf to sit next to the fireplace. with a more proper lighting, sabine can now assess the injury. the main injury comes from some kind of stab wound on her shoulder, which was where the lichen poison spread from. the flesh in the stab wound is rotting beyond repair, and sabine already knew she had to cauterize it to prevent the poison from spreading further. she grabs the iron rod, the metal end burns in an angry glowering orange.

"i'll need to burn the lichen from your flesh," sabine carefully says, furthermore warning the wolf, "this will be painful."

"just do it."

sabine nodded, sprinkling a black ash powder on the burning metal, before pressing the searing iron into the wolf's flesh. the wolf's eyes bolted into a rabid glare as she let out a bloodcurling howl of agony, skin and flesh sizzling. the wolf's eyes then shuts tightly as her face contorts miserably, teeth gritting and a restrained groan slips past. sabine knows the lichen is slowly burned out, and just as she knows its all gone from the wolf's skin and flesh, she pulls the now cooling rod away from the shapeshifter's wound.

the wolf's body seized violently, a sheen of sweat covering her skin. her breaths are laboured, borderline heaving. sabine worked quickly, spreading a mix of herbs to counter the poison, then dabbing a cloth with a healing ointment from a green vial and covers the wound with the cloth. she grabs another vial, uncorking it and brings it to the wolf's pale lips.

"drink," sabine gently instructed, her voice barely above a whisper as she guides the vial's rim to the wolf's mouth. she carefully tilts the vial to allow the contents to pour into the wolf's mouth and down her throat. sabine was meticulous to support the wolf's head as to not choke her as she drinks in the potion.

the wolf coughs, "it tastes like a goblin's fresh shit."

sabine huffs a brief amused snort, but didn't comment on it. she went to grab a thread and needle, briefly sanitising the needle over the fire. she began stitching the wolf's wound close, making sure she works quickly to spare the wolf from further pain. the wolf grimaces as sabine stitches her, breathing in sporadic sharp breaths.

"breathe slowly, wolf." sabine places a palm against the wolf's bare chest, right on where her heart is. she finishes stitching the wound, putting away the needle.

the wolf's eyes found sabine's, and now that she isn't in her wolf form, sabine finally noticed the wolf's human eye colour. they were the same shade as the ocean under her cliff; brilliant greenish blue, captivating and hauntingly serene. at that moment, sabine knew she could drown and get herself lost in this rogue werewolf's eyes the same way she always gets lost gazing into the ocean.

sabine didn't even realise her palm was still firmly placed on the wolf's chest, until the wolf's hand grabbed hers. their eyes broke away from each others', and sabine instantly withdrew her hand, mildly flustered now that the vampire realised that the wolf's upper body is mostly naked. to hide her flushed cheeks, sabine opts to grab a loose shirt and a blanket from her room. the wolf's eyes are continuously fixed on sabine's retreating form.

"here, put this on," sabine hands the shapeshifter the tan coloured shirt, eyes averting from her naked figure.

the wolf tilts her head, coupled with a faint smirk, somewhat teasing. "you do not enjoy looking at a naked woman?"

sabine groans softly. "just put it on, will you? you might get cold."

the wolf, to sabine's mild peeve, laughed somewhat mockingly. "never met a prudish vampire before. aren't the lot of you seductive?"

sabine scoffs, but decided to return the wolf's humour. "all i'm hearing is you think vampires are irresistible."

the wolf's face soured, scowling in a manner sabine dared to guess into disgust. she puts on the shirt, finally covering her naked chest and her wound. sabine sighs curtly in relief, no longer having to dart her eyes around to avoid looking at the other woman's chest.

"so, wolf–"

"i have a name, you know," the wolf interrupted, her tone amusingly flat.

"i didn't hear you mention it."

the wolf shrugs. "my name is shin. shin hati."

shin. sabine thinks the name suits her, and having a name to assign such a memorable face definitely helps her mental records better. she smiles, "you can call me sabine."

shin tilts her head, curious. her pale brows dip to a furrow. "i had assumed you were a member of one of the large houses."

sabine dreaded this, but chose to play it off. she crosses her arms in front of her, questioning. "now, what makes you say so?"

"you carry a regal energy within you. i can tell."

"good to know you smell aristocracy in me," sabine sarcastically jeered, rolling her eyes.

shin threw her an unimpressed look. "you are not as funny as you think." she then admits, "you are confusing. i smell human blood in you, but you are certainly of a large house. what are you? a kryze?"

"no. but, you're right about the human part."

shin's eyes widen, only for a fraction of a second, but it wasn't quick enough that sabine would miss it. "you were turned?"

sabine deadpans. "quite nosy, aren't you?" when shin stays static, the vampire shrugs it off, not really in the mood to tell her whole background. "yes, i was turned. i was humanborn, my father was human, while my mother was a countess."

"a countess? so you are a highborn."

the vampire shrugs, starting to grow uncomfortable. sabine opts to get up from her seat by the fireplace, grabbing a bottle of wine from her cabinet. she takes only one cup, unsure if shin wants to drink. she still feels shin's eyes on her back as she pours her wine.

"you smell like a vizsla. i met some of them a few moons ago, they have a very distinctive smell." shin's tone is mocking as she mentions house vizsla, but sabine can hear her figuring out the pieces slowly. "you belong to clan wren."

sabine sighs into her cup as shin delivers the final culmination of her thoughts. this was one of the reasons why sabine often avoids meeting with supernaturals despite her personal want to interact with them. the wren blood is still so strong within her, that supernaturals can still sense it even if she hasn't even tapped into her lineage's powers for years. sabine nods meekly, not bothered to deny shin's allegation.

"i was. not anymore."

shin's eyes flashed with something briefly. "how long have you been living here?"

"a few decades," sabine replied curtly, frowning in confusion, "why?"

"well, one hunter escaped," shin stated, in a matter-of-fact manner, as she drew her knee close to her body and leans one of her arms over, "and i am willing to bet my head, he will return with a larger band for retribution."

"whose fault was that?" sabine retorted, annoyed.

"i know, wren, not the point." shin's tone was bitter as she hissed out sabine's clan, not appreciating sabine's attitude. "i am going to leave by sun up. my travel is due north. i suggest you to leave this place as well by tomorrow eve."

sabine sighed, knowing that fact already from the moment they slaughtered the hunting party. to leave this cottage and move again had never been an option sabine thought about for the past few peaceful decades, but living the nomadic life isn't something new for her. and if she has a travel companion, things should be easier than alone.

"okay, wolf. we can leave by sunrise."

shin frowned. "sun up? do you have a death wish? you will burn and die."

sabine laughs. "i do appreciate your concern, wolf." the vampire smirks when shin grumble at sabine's lack of name usage, evident from the dipping of her brows when sabine only calls her 'wolf' instead of her name. "but, i'm not a full blooded born, remember? as long as i wear thick shades, the sun won't kill me."

shin eyes her, brows still slightly furrowed. if sabine had to guess, she looked like she's debating with herself. again. the vampire wonders if that's an actual werewolf thing, or if that is just a shin specific quirk.

"you speak as if we will journey together."

"you're due north. i've got nowhere to go." sabine shrugs as she points out the obvious. "i might as well just join you until we have to part ways."

shin crosses her arms. "what makes you think i am willing to take you with me, wren?"

sabine steps closer towards shin, feeling something awakening inside her the closer she gets to the werewolf. shin is looking up at her from the floor, gaze hard and unbroken; it makes sabine feel drawn magnetically to her.

"didn't you say vampires are irresistible, wolf?"

shin growls, lunging towards sabine to grab both of her wrists and pins the vampire down to the floor. sabine shot an amused, almost teasing, smirk back at shin when she bared her fangs at sabine.

"do not test me, wren. i will not take you with me." shin snarls at sabine, gripping on her wrists to further cement her point. it mildly irked her when she watches sabine's unfazed reaction.

sabine catches shin by surprise as she flips the werewolf over to her back, this time pinning shin by the neck as she anchors her weight down on shin. she couldn't exactly understand why she felt the need to be aggressive and dominating with shin, but she revels in the shock and frustration on shin's face.

"i don't care if you'd take me or not," sabine hisses as her grip on shin's neck tightens, leaning forward to lower her face closer towards the werewolf's, whispering, "i'm going with you. end of discussion."

shin's breaths are laboured in gasps, surprised by sabine's display of strength over her. she gasped a large intake of air when sabine released her grip of her neck, shooting a venomous glare at the vampire sitting on top of her.

"get off of me," shin growled, pushing her torso off the floor. she shot sabine a disgusted glare when the vampire winked flirtatiously at her. sabine watches as the werewolf groans reluctantly, "fine. but, if you slow me down, i will chain you to a stake at midday and leave you to burn."

"promise?"

shin's eyes turned vermilion as she barks, quite literally. sabine laughs, she hadn't known shin is rather exciting to rile up and tease. the pointed tips of shin's ears are dusted pink, a rather jarring contrast to her werewolf alpha eyes.

they didn't speak much afterwards the whole night as sabine goes to catch a brief sleep in her couch, whereas shin continued feeding the fireplace with more wood to burn. sabine had told shin to eat whatever choice of cured meats in her cabinet before she slept, and shin had helped herself wolfing down a large smoked vennison leg by the fire.

by sun up, they were already long gone from the now empty cottage. sabine had burned all of her trinkets down to erase any trace or proof that someone had lived in this cottage for decades. shin suggested they burn down the cottage, but sabine vetoed, reasoning that the building can still be used as a shelter.

they travelled further up north where the climate has gone colder and dryer for the past few weeks, sparing sabine's hypersensitive eyes and skin from the blazing southern sun. they had run into a few other supernaturals; namely a number of stray vampires, small packs of werewolves, a few goblins, and a single merlin living deep in the redwood forest.

sabine observed shin's behaviour and personality deeper as they travel, studying the werewolf. most of the time, shin prefers to stay in her true wolf form as opposed to her human or werewolf form because it allows her to travel further and faster. however, her true form is a beast by nature and required a lot of energy, which substantially demands her to consume more food for energy.

shin doesn't speak much about her past, not unlike sabine, but sabine had guessed that shin's history isn't too different from her own. the rogue werewolf mentioned briefly about her master; the alpha wolf who turned and took her under his tail. shin would have a flash of fondness skirting across her expression as she speak of him, but it would soon be replaced with the seething hatred sabine had grown accustomed to seeing.

in a way, it reminds sabine of her own mother.

"why did you run away from your clan's ancient seat?" shin curiously asked, leaning against the wall of the cave they are camping in; the crackle of the fire between them was the only consistent noise. the werewolf is holding a leatherskin bottle of mead by it's throat, aquamarine eyes fixed on sabine.

sabine chews on her stewed meat, slow and avoidant of shin's question and piercing gaze. she sets her bowl down, huffing contemplatively. "why should i stay in a castle full of vampires who disregarded my existence as a humanborn? a disgrace, as they said."

"is your mother not the countess? is she not the head of your clan?"

"yes, she is. was. i'm not sure."

shin's brow quirked. "did she not ever punish the vampires who held no respect for you?"

"it's not that simple, shin," sabine sighed. "i'm a very rare case of a humanborn, especially in clan wren. my mother was in the hottest seat of the clan, and if she acted brutishly, she will be deposed."

shin's face was stony, but sabine can sense her pity and frustration. sabine doesn't comment on it. shin took another few gulps of her mead, and if sabine dared to guess, her mind is running a few hundred thoughts at the same time.

"you are a powerful creature for a humanborn," shin spoke slowly over the crackle of the fire between them, voice level as always, "and yet, i have never seen you feed on human blood for the past few weeks we travelled. you starved yourself, and you have been burying your other half."

"astute observation." sabine ignored shin's elusive compliment for the monster half within her with a sarcastic comment. she almost grinned when shin rolled her eyes, undoubtedly vexed.

"that makes you a fool."

sabine glares at shin. "thanks."

"you may hate your monster half, but you must remember that it is a part of you. it should serve you as your strength, instead of your demise." shin's voice was sagacious yet gentle as she speaks; as if she had learned it for years. she takes another swig of her mead, before finalising with, "remember that it will stay as your foe, until you treat it as your friend."

shin's words echoed in sabine's mind the whole night, as she stays up in watch as her werewolf companion sleeps. it does make sense that she views her vampiric half as an illness for as long as she's been turned; seeing it as a curse she must rid instead of a power she could embrace.

when the first light of dawn began to rise, sabine had grown drowsy as she tucks herself into her black cowl's hood and shifts deeper into the cave. shin awoke half an hour after, stretching out the cave in her werewolf form and took off sprinting, sabine presumed to go hunting.

sabine had her very first experience in a full blue moon the next week with shin; and it is unlike what she heard. she knows that the werewolves drew more of their power from the moon, especially during full moons. she heard that blood moons exaggerates the werewolves' aggression and hunting need, just as how vampires are affected strongly by the phase.

full blue moons are when werewolves, specifically alpha werewolves such as shin, are at their peaks.

shin had already shifted into her werewolf form when the moon began to rise; sitting at the patio of the unoccupied wooden cabin they found in the middle of the great northern pineforest. sabine watches from inside; shin was sitting cross-legged with her back strictly upright, basking under the moonlight.

"you can come join me, wren," shin calls to her from outside, eyes closed and still moonshining.

the full moon had grown larger and much bluer, bathing shin under it's bluish shine. shin's eyes are open now as she looks at sabine, who remained by the window. the werewolf's body language is inviting, but not demanding at all. sabine couldn't tear her eyes away from shin's; bright vermilion bathed under soft blue of the moon that makes her eyes purplish.

shin appears almost exalting in sabine's eyes.

when the moonrise reaches it's peak, shin was already in her true wolf form. she soaked all of the blue moon's light and energy, appearing larger and regal. her bone-white fur flows beautifully in waves; almost jarring in contrast to her vermilion eyes and knife-sharp canines in her mouth.

sabine isn't entirely sure if blue moons are supposed to enhance all werewolves' beauty or if this is just a shin specific feature that she's just lucky to see, but sabine is sure travelling with shin had satisfied the curiousity of werewolves from her youth. shin may have not spoke much, but sabine only needed to observe her to learn from the alpha werewolf.

shin begins to slowly shift back into her human form as the blue moon sets slowly from the horizon, returning to it's regular yellowish hue. sabine was still watching her from inside the cabin, leaning outside through the window, growing slightly drowsy.

"the blue moon is affecting you too, isn't it?"

sabine blinks as she registers shin's voice. the werewolf is still sat in her place, but her body is now fully facing towards sabine and her eyes are much too soft that it unnerved sabine out of unfamiliarity.

"i'm getting sleepier," sabine replied, her voice only above a whisper.

shin rises to approach sabine, kneeling in front of the vampire, observing her for a good minute. her eyes narrowed, a mix of confusion and frustration. "you have not fed. i reckon it's already been five days since you last fed on blood."

sabine's brow quirked, dismissive. "you notice we haven't run into any hunters or passed any towns.

"there is a town on the foot of this forest." shin raised her head towards the sky, nose catching whiffs of... something. she then grimaces, seemingly disgusted. "the town is a hub of low-lives. a den for filthy criminals and offenders."

sabine mirrors shin's disgust, scowling. "i would rather burn in the sun."

shin groans, husked and exasperated. "wren, please."

"no. i don't want to feed on disgusting lowlife criminals." sabine was unmoving in her spot, refusing to feed despite the monster inside already growling incessantly for her next meal.

"you are unbelievable."

shin glares at sabine who stays dismissive, head lulling into her arms and eyes slowly shut in drowsiness. sabine's skin is so much paler, and her eyes are starting to sink in; a telltale sign of exhaustion and lack of blood feeding.

when shin spoke, sabine didn't expect her to say: "fine, you can feed on me tonight."

sabine's eyes bolted open, scandalised. "pardon?"

shin jumps inside the cabin through the window sabine was leaning out from, to sit across of the half-blooded vampire. the somnolence in sabine's systems were instantly thrown out as shin began untucking her tan shirt and holds her hair up to reveal most of her neck down to her collarbones.

"you have to feed, sabine," shin's voice was so much softer than usual, neck tilted to the side. the way her name rolled out of shin's tongue sent warmth down sabine's abdomen, and it doesn't help calming her flushed cheeks.

"i-i... i'm not gonna feed from you, shin!"

shin clicks her tongue, vexed. "just get on with it."

"no!"

"sabine, for fuck's sake." shin then grabs sabine by her cheeks, forcing the vampire to open her mouth and reveal her fangs and brought her closer to the skin of her own neck. "just feed."

sabine pushed off of shin by her shoulders just before the sharp points of her fangs punctured shin's delicate ivory skin, her breaths laboured as she grows equally irate. her eyes began to flicker from the vampiric ruby-reds and back to her bright brown. she shoved shin's shoulder with her fist, harsher than sabine would've liked.

"are you insane? i could end up killing you!" sabine yells as she tries to control her vampiric half.

"no, you won't. you will only drink my blood, not draw out my wolf powers." shin takes off her shirt, going completely chest naked this time, her stellar blue eyes are steel against sabine's, unbroken. "drink as much as you need. i promise it will not kill me."

sabine was indisposed of the idea to feed on shin's blood. what if she couldn't restrain herself from overly indulging on the feed? wouldn't that kill shin? what if shin couldn't handle the prickling of sabine's fangs? she was about to argue again when shin claws at her own neck, drawing ichor so sweet to sabine's nose that she couldn't resist anymore.

"drink, sabine."

sabine's eyes are already glowing bright ruby and her fangs protruding from her lips as she eyes shin for one final consent, which the werewolf alpha assured with a firm nod. sabine crawled towards shin, sits herself on the werewolf's lap, and began lapping on the dripping blood from the area shin clawed at. sabine places a firm hand on shin's fleshly column.

shin hisses a sharp breath through her teeth when sabine's fangs pricked her skin and deeper into her flesh, as she begin feeding on shin. sabine had never tasted anything sweeter than shin's ichor-flavoured blood; not even the finest honeyed wine in her old cottage's cabinet.

drinking from shin is erotic and sensual.

sabine could hear shin's laboured breaths as she leans their weights on her propped arms behind her back, and she could feel the wolf's arousal echoed in the pooling warmth in sabine's underbelly. her grip on shin's neck tightens as she struggles with her monster to control the feeding.

"fuck, sabine…" shin husked out in a strained moan, the sound was so much sweeter in sabine's ears than her own blood tasted in her mouth.

sabine's tongue laps against the rapidly-healing bite wound on shin's neck, savouring whatever taste left of shin like she had been starved for decades. her eyes remained rubies, half lidded and heavy with so much lust and arousal.

shin's vermilion eyes are mirroring the same as her.

the wolf's thumb pads over sabine's lips, smearing scarlet on the pad of her thumb and on sabine's lips. sabine couldn't help the ecstasy of moans when shin captured her lips with her own in a ravenous kisses; the kind so insatiable with just flesh and must be met with teeth and fangs violently.

shin's blood was mixed with sabine's own from the pricklings of shin's canines against sabine's lips; the taste mingling in their mouths like saccharine, a sinful yet divine ritual between two powerful creatures of the supernaturals. the more they kiss, the less significant oxygen becomes.

"shin…" sabine gasps between kisses that smeared red all over their tongues and lips.

sabine's own hips have begun moving on it's own consciousness against shin, her nails raking deep in shin's back. the wolf groans against their hungry kisses at the welcomed pain, the sound immediately swallowed by sabine's throat.

shin broke away from their kiss, vermilion eyes so clouded with lust and breaths laced with arousal that it made sabine burn from the inside with untamed carnal desire to feed on shin in so many different ways than just drinking her ambrosia-sweet blood.

sabine doesn't even remember how they ended up where they awoke the next morning, entirely stripped to only skin and haphazardly strewn fur blanket over their overlapping limbs. the air had the unmistakable sweet scent of sex and blood, and sabine's memories began to flood back in.

shin had brought her to climaxes so sweet and high, that sabine swore she felt herself combust from each waves of pleasure on the wolf's fingers, mouth, thighs... anywhere that sabine could remember. sabine also remembers the deliciously erotic noises the alpha made as she made her reach such explosive peaks that triggered her own against shin.

when shin began to stir awoke, her lips immediately chased after sabine's, tasting the remnants from last night, granting a lazy smirk against sabine's lips.

"you were right, wren," shin sleepily gasped in between pecks against sabine's lips.

sabine hummed, curious. "about what?" she had to choke back a sharp moan when she feels shin's thigh slotting itself against sabine's sensitive center, teasing her over the edge.

shin has risen up as she crawls backward to spread sabine's thighs wide, peppering her sensitive limbs with a balance of feather-light kisses and knife-sharp grazes of her canines on the silky smooth skin. if sabine was choking back on her moans earlier, she definitely howled out loud moan when she felt shin's tongue on where it makes her almost see stars.

"you vampires are quite irresistible."

[mrmissmrsrandom]

I made purchases and since summer is approaching, I’m opening up commissions! If you like my work and have money to spare, consider contacting me. :) Currently have two slots open.

[swordlux]

The Command | Cú Chulainn x Reader

A romantic reimagining of the scene from EP 19 of Fate/stay night: Unlimited Blade Works, "Idealism's End", with you in place of Tohsaka.

Major spoilers ahead for the anime.

To Lancer with love <33

***

I could feel the loyalty in his stance—and it made my heart break. I knew Lancer would do all he could to resist the order, but even he wouldn’t be able to disobey a command written in his soul. It was like the cruel hands of fate had wrapped around both our necks.

*** The Command

The ropes bit into my skin. I turned my head away from Shinji’s taunting face, doing my best not to show my distress. Anger flooded me from the tips of my toes; how I wanted so badly to punch this young fool. I bit my lip instead, near snarling as his uncouth hands explored my thighs.

“I love a girl with nice legs,” he said, running his hands further up my thigh.

That comment and the fact that he was practically drooling were enough to push me past my limit.

I pulled against my restraints, ready to snap.

Then, all of a sudden, as if my thoughts made it appear, an invisible fist flew into the air and smashed into the side of Shinji’s face.

I watched my long-time rival’s cheekbone cave as the rest of his body caught up with him, and he went flying across the room.

For a second the only explanation I could think of was that I had tapped into some undiscovered talent, or that the air itself had adjusted to my will.

That was when he appeared—the tall, bright, handsome blue form attached to that fist.

“Lancer!” I cried.

Lancer’s expression was that of smug disinterest when he punched Shinji, but he turned now to me with concern flickering in his red eyes. “Are you alright?” he said.

“I am now.” It was the truth. Seeing Lancer standing there brought such relief to my limbs. I didn’t even notice the bounds around me anymore. It also brought up a deeper feeling that had been stirring in my chest every time I saw the man as of late. I wanted to throw my arms around his strong waist. The sight of him there confirmed all the feelings that remained unspoken in the air between us. It was clear he was stepping out of orders being here.

“Quite the situation you’ve got yourself in there,” he said, smirking now. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say the look suits you. Allow me—” He reached his spear for my binds, about to release me from captivity when a deep voice rang out in the dim chamber.

“Hold up, Lancer.”

The voice stopped us cold.

A man appeared in the shadows behind Lancer—a man whose sight would’ve made me feel sick on a normal day, and in this situation, it made me feel as if I was about to fall off the edge of a roller coaster.

He stepped into the light. The sight of the gold cross hanging on the front of his chest nearly made me hurl.

Kirei Kotomine. Lancer’s master.

I looked at Lancer with panic. He tried to reassure me, but I could see fear mirrored in his beautiful rubies.

He turned to Kirei. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that,” Kirei said, never breaking his composure. “I don’t remember ordering you to come to this young maiden’s rescue.”

“I don’t need an order to do something any honest knight would do.”

“Oh, is that what this is?” Kirei looked between us with amused curiosity. “You’re telling me you have no personal feelings here?”

Lancer bit down on his tongue. It was taking everything for him not to reveal the truth.

Kirei continued. “It’s true I ordered you to cooperate with them, but I never ordered you to get emotionally invested.” The love of my life’s master closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them, I saw nothing but malice in those bottomless pits, and I knew exactly what would come next. “Well, seeing that it’s too late, there’s only one thing to do now.” Kirei turned and looked me straight in the eye. “Kill her,” he said.

Lancer’s face turned white at the order. In it, I saw an absolute dread that must’ve been mirrored in mine. My stomach sank. Just as we’d reunited, just as I was sure we’d get to explore more of whatever this was between us. Our time was cut short by the knowledge that what would happen next was inevitable.

I looked into Lancer’s eyes—those deep, passionate, loving eyes—and knew this was a fate I could accept. I had to accept. No matter how painful, if I was going to die, at least it would be at the hands of one I loved.

I knew it would wreck Lancer, so I tried to show my acceptance in my gaze. Go ahead, don’t get yourself in trouble because of me. I’ll love you always.

But Lancer had already made his decision. His resolution was apparent in the strength of his warm voice. “I refuse,” he said. “If you want me to, you’re going to have to use a command seal.”

I could feel the loyalty in his stance, and it made my heart break. I knew Lancer would do all he could to resist the order, but even he wouldn’t be able to disobey a command written in his soul. It was like the cruel hands of fate had wrapped around both our necks.

“Lancer,” I pleaded.

“Very well,” Kirei’s words rang out, trumping my pleas, and the chamber grew colder with their resonance.

And then came the words I never saw coming—the words that struck me right in my core and made me feel as if the sun had fallen out of the universe—

“Kill yourself, Lancer.”

“No–!!!” My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. The order seemed to shake the walls—every part of my being resisted this dreadful fate.

My death, I could accept. But this…

Lancer resisted the order as best he could, but even his strong hands couldn’t slow the turning of the spear toward his own heart.

I screamed and pulled against my bounds, but the rope held me in place. And so I reached for Lancer the only way I knew how.

I reached for him with the whole of my being, with my will, with my desire to keep him alive so strong it could burn all of me. I screamed his name with every fibre of my being—every ounce of my soul. I felt at the red tips of his existence. I reached for him through the darkness, ignoring all worldly restraints, so his spirit would have no choice but to feel mine.

And then the chant spilled out of my lips, smooth as a summer song, as if I’d been rehearsing it for this moment. And through the words I bled all of the passion I felt inside me.

“My fate shall be your sword… If you will submit to this will and this reason, then answer!”

I could feel the moment Lancer caught on. The force that was tied around him loosened.

I pulled him closer, both of us now working to fight the order that still tore at his soul. We fought together. I sang the enchantment until my throat was sore.

And then–

I felt it break. Kirei’s hold on him snapped.

With a violent backswing, Lancer's spirit tumbled toward mine.

I caught him, the force knocking all the air out of my lungs.

The red marks of allegiance on Kirei’s arm shattered and disappeared as if they were always as delicate as glass.

The same marks appeared on my arm now, but they felt strong and burned with red life and passion.

Lancer was mine.

I looked down at the new command seal with a strange feeling of completion. The connection between us glowed like a warm amber in the air. It was the feeling of reaching nirvana. A connection so wonderful it seemed too good to be true.

I locked eyes with Lancer.

Lancer was mine, and I was his, but more than that, he was saved from that awful fate.

Before the emotions of joy overwhelmed me, I reached for Lancer’s spear—the one that almost killed him—and turned it on the one thing that could threaten that joy.

Kirei was still looking at his arm in shock as I approached him.

It was at the last moment that he looked up. He only had a second for recognition to dawn before I pierced the spear into his heart.

The man who was once Lancer's master fell to his knees.

I pulled the spear out and watched him choke out his last few breaths in confusion.

"Sorry, but some fates are meant to be twisted." 

I turned back to Lancer and threw my arms around him.

He returned my tight grip, and for a second, I thought we were going to squeeze the life out of each other.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” he said. He pulled away and tilted my chin up to him. “Be mine, forever.”

“Forever.”

He kissed me. The kiss was deep and hot, combined now with the sensation of our connected souls. I felt it tingling in the center of my forehead.

“I love you, Lancer.”

“I love you too.” He laughed. “I guess I should call you my master now.”

“Master, partner, whatever you need me to be”—I grabbed both his hands—“I’m yours. And I’m sorry. I used your spear without asking.”

[whollyjoly]

for some reason i can't explain i know saint peter won't call my name

nothing that lives, lives forever - an immortal soldier!alton more au

(1.1k of snippets from my old guard(ish) au where alton more is old, too old, and has been living and fighting far longer than anyone should. full description/other thoughts at the bottom. tw: blood, violence, mentions of death)

Alton clicked the lighter closed, running a thumb over the silver case. The night was warm, sticky in a way that he never could get used to. He sucked in a breath from the cheap cigarette, letting his head fall back against the rough side of the barracks.

It was quiet. Typically, there would be no end to the commotion coming from the small building, one of many that littered Camp Toccoa. The wall of sound was ever-present, no matter if it was shouting or laughing or snoring. But whatever the cause, there was always noise. 

No matter if it was a blanket of noise he knew well, unchanging except for the language and the scenery. Soldiers are soldiers, and some things are a constant. It could almost be comforting, if it didn’t also mean that the need for soldiers was a constant as well.

However, tonight was a Saturday, and it was one of the few weekends that Sobel had allowed Easy the use of their weekend passes. Almost every man in the company had jumped at the chance to get off base, to travel home if they could and spend time with loved ones. The ones with farther-flung hometowns had spirited off to Atlanta, happy to spend their time drinking and dancing and fucking instead of slogging through another run, three miles up, three miles down.

Normally, Alton would have joined them in their carousing - it was easier to pass the time with the effortless camaraderie built during a training camp than bored and alone. 

But today had been a bad day. The sound of swords and the shift of sand beneath his feet followed him out of his nightmares, the humid summer of Georgia morphing itself into the baking, dry heat of the desert. 

His shouts must have been real, because when a hand came to shake him out of his dream, the first face he saw was not that of a grouchy NCO, but of a blood-caked Saracen, eyes alight with righteous fury. 

Alton didn’t think. He had grabbed the knife from under his pillow, an old thing that had been sharpened more times than he could begin to count, and was on the man in less than a breath, pressing the blade into the side of his neck. The familiar thrum of blood beat against his fingertips, the grit of sand scratched his gums. He knew what he had to do, had done it a thousand times, a thousand thousand times, what was a little more bloodshed spilled across his feet-

Alton had blinked, and came to himself in a rush.

Instead of an unnamed Saracen, the ashen face of Johnny Martin stared up at him, eyes wide behind the knife.

Alton drew back his hand, retreating almost as quick as he had lunged earlier. He mumbled a quick curse and apology as he stepped out of arm’s reach from the man. It wasn’t until Martin’s eyes widened even farther that Alton realized his tongue was slipping out Arabic of all things.

Usually, Alton was better about remembering himself, who he was almost as important as where he was. But for whatever reason, his demons had decided to catch up with him that night.

After a quick smile and some quip about the Krauts in his dreams, he managed to wave an only-slightly-mollified Martin off. The shorter man apparently hadn’t forgotten it though, if his watchful eyes during chow that morning were anything to go by.

Alton was just glad that no one else was awake to see it, at least. That was the last thing he needed.

And so, instead of joining in on a weekend of broads and booze, Alton found himself waving away the invitation by an eager Smokey and bemused Alley. When the horde made their way out of the barracks, fantasizing in bawdy terms about their planned misadventures, he felt like he could breathe easy.

Fucking finally.

~~

Alton took another drag from the cigarette. He watched the smoke curl, up and up until it faded into nothing amongst the darkening sky.

The lighter was a welcome weight in his hand, grounding him to this time, this life.

The design was worn by now, details barely visible after a half century of worrying. It still managed to amaze him, sometimes, what people could do with the smallest of canvases. Alton didn’t feel the same wonder however, wasn’t as mesmerized by the beauty man could create as he once was.

But in the quiet moments, he could still appreciate the time some French craftsman took to transform a hunk of metal into a small token carried around by a dead man.

Luz had spied the lighter one weekend, and laughed at him for using something so old-fashioned. Alton just shrugged, not caring to admit that he was still getting used to having a light at his fingertips. It wasn’t all that long ago when he was still lighting a pipe with a flintlock pistol, and not so long before that when he would carry around a flint and steel.

Time was passing all the more quickly these days, technologies changing and advancing, and everyone was obsessed with needing things to be quicker, cheaper, simpler. Alton scoffed. He could hardly find it in him to care.

He glanced down at the lighter in his hand, shifting it back and forth in a practiced motion and watched as the light skittered across the sides. 

It had shown flowers, once. A veritable garden of carnations, daffodils, and lilies of the valley, with leaves spilling across the front panel onto the back. They represent good fortune, he was told. Good fortune, luck, and hope. 

When the merchant described it to him, eyes ablaze with a passion known only to those with wares to sell, Alton didn’t try to hide the snort that escaped his throat. 

Fortune and Luck had abandoned him long ago, and hadn’t returned since waking up in a battlefield abandoned by all but the dead, sword in his chest and blood in his mouth. 

And what the fuck was Alton supposed to do with hope?

It was the quote on the back that had caught his eye, all those years ago in a street market in Reims. The beveled edges had faded with time, the familiar letters Alton traced were more memory by now than any physical mark. Une vie honorable est une vie éternelle.

An honorable life is an eternal life.

Alton couldn’t help but stare at the message, both then and now. He hated that goddamn word. Immortal. Unending. Eternal. 

They were such flowery words, used by people who craved what they couldn’t have, what they shouldn’t. The romanticized idea of the everlasting, the fountain of youth, the gift of life! Alton was sick of it.

This wasn’t life. He was a fucking dead man walking. And he sure as hell didn’t do anything honorable to deserve it.

months ago, while thinking about the absolute insanity of the almost...cavalier? attitude we see alton more have over the course of the series, an idea hit my brain: what if there was a reason nothing seemed to phase him - not panzers, not being a breath away from a car wreck, not bastogne, not speirs? what if this wasn't his first war? that thought spiraled me into a minor insanity that is this: my immortal soldier!alton more au, loosely inspired by the movie the old guard (2020). the idea is that, once upon a time, there was a soldier in a land many centuries ago. one day, he died in battle. and then, he woke up. and then he died. and then he woke up. over, and over. drawn to countless battles, conflicts, and wars, each one etching itself into the core of his soul. a never-ending cycle...until one sweltering summer, where he found himself at a training camp at the foot of a mountain. anyways. at some point, i plan on writing this as a full story, but that is admittedly a long ways away. however, in celebration of alton more's birthday today, i wanted to post my favorite scene that i've written for this au! it's set sometime at the beginning of the story, in the early days of camp toccoa. mostly, it's just a character study of this version of alton more. hope you enjoyed! and of course - happy birthday alton more!

(song insp.)

taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs @land-sh @ronsparky @panzershrike-pretz @theredrenard @kyellin

[librathefangirl]

Like Oxygen to a Dying Flame

ao3 | The Seven Deadly Sins | Chapter 1/1 | 2.0k+

“We can’t do this." It wasn’t just fear speaking. It was logic. The realistic part of him that still lived in the shadows of what was and not what they wanted it to be. That had come here today with the simple goal of never seeing Elizabeth again. It wasn’t simple. It was the furthest thing from simple. He had been a fool for thinking otherwise. "We can try.” Elizabeth’s words were a tentative whisper carried on the wind between them.

Another fic I started this summer. This one is based on this prompt by @unboundprompts: "It's not meant to be." "Why not? Because that's what they told us?"

Just some early Melizabeth angst and fluff :)

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

Strands of gold flashed across Meliodas’ vision as he shook his head. He stepped backwards, almost falling over, stumbling down the stairs. This was… He ran a hand through his hair – a familiar and anxious motion – but it did little to tame his wild locks. He probably looked haggard by now. Hardly the epitome of the next demon king he was supposed to be. He hadn’t felt like him in a very long time. He resisted the urge to pace. His hair was a worse mess than usual, a testimony to how many times he had dragged his hands through it since arriving at Heaven’s Theater just some hour ago.

Meliodas shook his head again, “We can’t do this.”

Elizabeth was still seated on the stairs, watching him with those big eyes of hers that just asked you to let them drown you. Meliodas had gotten lost in them enough times that he knew he would. He probably already had. She didn’t say anything, letting him work through his thoughts and the most recent bout of panic. It wasn’t the first time. Part of Meliodas was grateful that she allowed him to do this on his own. Her voice, her touch, even just her presence so close to him – it all set fire to his skin. It made his hearts simultaneously yearn and split in two. Another part of him wished she would just wash away all his fears like she so often did. He didn’t know how to do… this.

“We can’t do this.”

It wasn’t just fear speaking. It was logic. The realistic part of him that still lived in the shadows of what was and not what they wanted it to be. That had come here today with the simple goal of never seeing Elizabeth again. It wasn’t simple. It was the furthest thing from simple. He had been a fool for thinking otherwise.

“We can try.” Elizabeth’s words were a tentative whisper carried on the wind between them. She seemed almost as unsure as he was, yet still somehow, she fell on the side of hope. Gods. For anything that had ever had any value to anyone, Meliodas wished he could take that hurt and hesitation from Elizabeth’s voice. It didn’t belong there. He never wished to bring her misery, nor to see her uncertain like this. She was his stronghold – and here he was, slowly chopping it down. 

“To what point?” Meliodas barely spoke louder than her. He wanted to believe, but daring to dream of a different future was somehow scarier than accepting the past. He told himself it wasn’t worth it. That it would be better for both of them if they just… gave up. That it would hurt less. His words betrayed him though, carrying a soft desperation; a want for her to prove him wrong. To prove that this was worth it. That they could actually be.

“It’s not meant to be.”

Elizabeth had lit a fire of hope in him, pulling him out of the darkness – but that didn’t erase the shadows. And Meliodas' flame was dying, barely surviving under the boot which was slowly suffocating it, stealing away that which kept it alive. All his life, he had been taught to be the boot and not the flame. Hope was a dangerous thing. Meliodas didn’t know how to keep it alive. Not when the entire world seemed to be standing against them. It felt impossible. 

“Why not?” Elizabeth’s voice rose in volume, channeling her hope into something else. There was a sharpness to her words. Not angry, but defiant; she was breathing oxygen right into the dying flame. Asking – no – demanding to know why it had to die, why they had to.

She stood up, walking down the steps to rejoin him; “Why not? Because that’s what they told us?”

It was a bold thing to say. Challenging everything they had ever been told, that had even been. Challenging the very balance of existence. It was a stupid thing to say.

“Ellie…”

Her name was a plea on his lips; a secret, a fear, and a longing so deep and so hopelessly forbidden. It wasn’t allowed to exist, let alone be vocalized like this. This was the kind of thing that got people killed. It was treason. It had always been treason. Just their presence here together was grounds for a banishment straight to Purgatory. They had been toeing that line ever since they had started meeting up in secret like this. Ever since they chose friendship over fighting.

And yesterday they kissed.

Meliodas found himself standing right by her side again. Too close. All he had to do at that moment was lift his arms and he could hold her. He longed to do so. His hands trembled at his sides at the mere thought. Every step he took always seemed to bring him closer to her. Constantly gravitating towards her like a moth to a flame; entranced by its deadly beauty. He wasn’t sure when that had started, nor how to make it stop. He didn’t even know if he wanted it to. He probably didn’t. He wanted to never have gotten to know her, because that would be far easier. Losing her now would be a completely different thing. 

Elizabeth’s hands trembled too, but she reached up anyway, cupping his face between them. She had always been the braver one. Brave enough to choose peace on the battlefield, brave enough to dare think they could ever be more than what they were supposed to. She was his hope and his courage. People had always called Meliodas brave, but it was easy to do what was expected, it was a lot harder to do this.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Meliodas reminded her, but he placed his own hands on top of hers. Holding her, holding him. Hands cradling the person they should really drive a sword through. Things would be simpler if they just did. Enemies didn’t have to wonder if their love would break the world. But it had been a long time since Meliodas had been able to see Elizabeth as his enemy. She was far more than that. She was his enemy and his lover, his courage and his fear. She was his hope and she would be his end. She was just as much a part of him as he was himself. He wasn’t sure who he was without her anymore – or maybe he did, but he just didn’t want to remember. Meeting Elizabeth had changed everything.

“I know,” Elizabeth whispered. “But…”

“I don’t want to stop,” Meliodas finished, closing his eyes to escape the intensity of hers. It was the truth. It shouldn’t be, but it was.

“Yeah,” Elizabeth agreed, leaning her forehead against his. Meliodas could feel her on every inch of his skin, in every pore of his body, in every fiber of his being. There was no him without her. Not then and there. Not for a long time.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? The worst part about everything. How much Meliodas actually wanted this. The way he ached with it. Elizabeth was the oxygen to his dying flame, and had been for far longer than he had dared to admit it. The kiss had just proved it, brought it all out for the universe to see. But… a demon and a goddess? It was unthinkable. Yet, they were here. He could still feel her touch under his. They were here and they loved each other.

It was the opposite of everything their parents had tried to teach them.

Now, Meliodas had never put much value in his father’s truths. He had obeyed his words, but not because he thought him right. His father was probably wrong about more things than he even spoke about. To Meliodas, it had been a means of survival. Meliodas hadn’t known another world could exist. He hadn’t known that he had a choice. Not until Elizabeth. The Demon King, the Supreme Deity; they were the gods who chose the fates of their people. Not because they were especially wise, but because they had no one to challenge their views. And that was exactly what Meliodas and Elizabeth were doing. They were saying the all-powerful gods were wrong, while lacking the power to back it up. It was beyond foolish. Suicidal even.

“Then what if we just… don't stop?”

“What?” Meliodas blinked his eyes open, meeting Elizabeth’s gaze. There was fear in those bright blue waters, but there was hope there too. Like a lone sailor boat braving the stormy seas to reach the safe haven beyond. Elizabeth never seemed to lose her hope.

“What if we don’t try to stop?”

“I-...” Meliodas wasn’t Elizabeth. His hope was a raft at best, being swept here and there by the storm; floating, but just barely. He stepped back – the distance between them making his skin feel ice-cold. He dragged a hand through his hair, shaking his head again. “Continuing would be madness.”

Oh, but Meliodas wanted nothing more than to do just that.

“I think we’ve already passed madness,” Elizabeth said, her voice matching his whisper, but where his was teetering on despair, hers held onto that cautious hope. She was right, of course. Meliodas had kissed a goddess. He had kissed the daughter of the Supreme Deity! A sane person would never have let it gotten this far. Perhaps all they could do was keep going. Meliodas couldn’t ever imagine going back to how things had been before Elizabeth. If you couldn’t go back, there was only really one option left…

“How would we even do that?”

That was it. With five words he had sealed their fates. There was no going back. There hadn’t been for a long while, and now they were admitting it. Now he was admitting it, holding onto that hope and praying it was enough. With Elizabeth by his side, it almost felt plausible. Meliodas stepped closer to her again, feeling her warmth against his skin.

“I’m not sure,” Elizabeth confessed, but she was smiling; hopeful and gentle. She carded a hand through his hair, fingers playing with a strand by his ear. “I guess we just keep going until we figure it out.”

It was probably a horrible plan – it wasn’t even a plan – but Meliodas knew he would follow Elizabeth anyway. Her hope was intoxicating. It had pulled him out of the dark, had allowed him to believe he had a choice; it had made him hope too. There was no turning back for him. He would do anything just to have her soft, loving touch on him. It really was maddening. They were both mad. It was the only explanation for this because Meliodas had meant what he said, he really had. They shouldn’t do this. But they would. Meliodas didn’t really mind being a hypocrite about this. Not if it meant he could keep Elizabeth like this. Have her close, feel her warmth. Love her.

He was a hypocrite and a traitor. And that treacherous part of him only seemed to be growing, because Elizabeth bit her lip in thought – still trying to solve the problems and unfairness of their world – and all Meliodas could do was think about how much he wanted to kiss it. He wanted to be with her. In every way she would allow him to be, for the rest of their lives. And even beyond that.

If Elizabeth was the oxygen to his flame, Meliodas was turning into a wildfire, consuming everything that used to be his life, leaving nothing but the bare foundation to rebuild from.

Meliodas let out a soft groan; “You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days, princess.”

“I’m sorry…” Elizabeth mumbled, and Meliodas shook his head before she could think him actually serious.

“Don’t be.” Meliodas leaned his head back against hers. “I’d rather have death with you than continue living without a life.”

[noneknxws]

hello I’m on a roll (also psa this isn’t jaytim)

“What’d you say?”

Tim looks up from the alley cat, who’s face he’s got cupped in his hands. Jason stares back at him, the front part of his helmet up so Tim can see the glaring eyes facing in his direction.

“Love you too?” Tim repeats awkwardly, scratching the kitty behind the ear. He turns his back to the cat, because Jason doesn’t deserve his attention nearly as much.

Jason’s silent for a few seconds. “Right after I told you you’d get rabies from that thing.”

“Shockingly enough, Jason, I care about you.” Tim picks up Sprinkles, as he has now dubbed the feline, and carries her back to his brother. “You’re like a scraggly stray cat. You’re really annoying, but I feel like I have to drag you out of the blood pile you’re sitting in.”

“Quarter of it’s my blood,” Jason points out, scowling. “And I didn’t call you for a simile. I called Dick ‘cause he has the nearest safe-house, but you-“

“Showed up for both,” Tim finishes easily as he dumps a purring Sprinkles onto Jason’s lap. “Because this family sucks at sticking together, and knowing who would or wouldn’t. So I wanted you to know I’d stick with you.”

They sit in silence, apart from the noise of Gotham and Sprinkles’ gentle hum.

“You know I’m allergic to cats, right?”

“Obviously. Just because I care doesn’t mean I want to see you suffer sometimes.”

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Yall Danny pretends to be a dead mermaid just to fuck with people who don’t know anything about ghosts

People seeing his ghostly trail and calling it a tail. Maybe some dudebroblondechick asks “so do we all loose our legs when we die?” And hes just shocked for a moment before realising the gold he has struck. “I am a dead mermaid whos tail was stuck in trash floating the in ocean.” Maybe hes really acting it up “I couldnt escape and died” as he wipes a nonexistent tear.

Well enough people have asked about it that it’s a whole thing on the web. People claiming no hes not a mermaid look heres a photo with legs and then people saying that the leg photos are doctored by the government to hide the mermaids from the public. The mermaids we are clearly at war with because why else would our government keep letting us pollute like this. It’s clearly a war tactic to basically enlist people without having them know but having them consume so much plastics.

The attempt to remove plastic straws? Clearly a cry for help from the mermaids reaching out to humanity on California duh.

Sam loves it because now more people are becoming aware of their own part in polluting the world. But she also hates it because most of the crap going around is borderline flat earth esk theories. “Why did it take the illusion of having a big naturals mermaid bf to get people to start cleaning up the oceans”

Anyway long story short the most popular theory is that Phantom has both legs and a tail and is actually a catboy alien ghost cover up.

[alms4oblivion]

Friends with my Ex

The thing that first got me to write Warrior Nun fanfiction (as opposed to reading it endlessly) was the idea of what would happen if Ava and Beatrice fell in love with someone else. What would that look like? How would that happen? How would they navigate a friendship, with everything that had passed between them? How would their separate relationships bring out the aspects of their love that were most precious and beautiful? By the time I was done, I had this: angsty, funny, fluffy at times, and with the happiest possible ending I could think of for a post-canon fic (and the happiest such ending I've seen so far).