#i know i'll fall even though i'll try and hope to float | about

[futsuucmplx]

hoshi has extremely vivid dreams, often lucid dreams. sometimes they're just common and normal ones, but more often than night, it more the turmoil she's been so heavily pressing down taking form. it's not uncommon for her to wake up halfway off her bed cause of a particularly distressing one. these dreams have also made her develop a phobia of butterflies. for the record, these dreams aren't just reliving trauma, at least, not completely. these dreams are weird and distressing because of the feeling behind them and the subconscious messing with a, frankly, already frayed mental state

[the-greatest-8]

Obi-wan has had visions before, even when he was in the creche. It was a simple fact by now. Master Yoda had even offered comfort before, after a particularly difficult one. Obi-wan was well aware the risk of reading too far into them- because that simply wasn't how they worked. 'Always in motion, the future is.' Obi-wan knew this.

However- Obi-wan had one vision, one, that he hoped so desperately would become true. It always started the same, he would feel so light, so free- It was a comfort he has clung to in his darkest moments. He would be in bed, warm, and content. He would hear the sound of rustling next to him, before arms would wrap around him. Obi-wan always remembers how he sinks into, how he'd fall back asleep. That's how the vision always ends. It was never enough- not enough information.

Obi-wan wanted so deeply to know how to make that vision real. He knew it wasn't proper; He was just a man though, he tried so hard to follow all the rules- but oh, how he wanted. That feeling never left, even during the war he was in now. If anything, it made him wish even more, for a warmth to keep him grounded around all the deaths. Around all the sorrow after battle, Obi-wan just wanted to feel safe, like in the vision.

It wasn't often, he wouldn't mope, not when he was needed at his best. It was moments like this, however, when the desires in him felt suffocating. The last mission him and his men went on was successful, very successful. Morale was high, and so a stop into town to celebrate was made.

Obi-wan had been corralled into joining, as had Cody. It was enjoyable, even, he drank plenty with his men as they all laughed and told stories. Obi-wan was even sporting a buzz, he was happy, he had realized. Here, with his men, next to his loyal Commander. It made him pause for a second, surprised. Cody, vigilant as ever, took notice and sent him a look, feeling questioning in the force.

Obi-wan smiled at Cody, "I'm fine, Commander, I simply was surprised at something." Obi-wan said exasperatedly. Cody hummed, "If you don't mind me asking General, what was it?" He asked, and sipped his drink. Obi-wan huffed, "I just realized I'm enjoying myself, that's all my dear." He says. Cody smiled then, a soft expression that momentarily made Obi-wans heart flutter.

"I'm glad, sir, we've all noticed you've been tense." Cody said, his worry in the Force being replaced with a soothed, content feeling- and the gentle flames of fondness. Obi-wan almost stuttered, his face flushing slightly. Obi-wan felt warm, his heart raced while he worked on keeping his face straight.

The Force was entirely unhelpful, almost mockingly it made him more aware of how soothing Cody feels to him. Obi-wan decided then he was far to sober for this, and ordered another drink. He doesn't remember a single thing after.

Obi-wan awoke feeling warm, and content, surprisingly without a hangover too. He must have filtered his blood through the force before bed, he thinks distantly. He was sleepy, not entirely certain what woke him, so he just let himself feel. He was floating in soft feelings, he felt light and free, his troubles seemed all the more distant. Obi-wan doesn't remember feeling like this, not in a long while at least. Obi-wan hears rustling next to him, and before he can panic about another person in his bed, strong arms wrap around him and pull him close. "Go back to sleep, General.." a half asleep Cody mutters, before he fully succumbs to his rest once more. Obi-wan pauses, his heart thudding in his chest, and face ablaze.

Obi-wan decides this is a dilemma for future Obi-wan, and sinks into the embrace. He fleetingly thinks about his vision, but is unable to put more thought into it as he drifts off once more. A smile on his lips.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Authors note-

Honestly I'm not sure I'm happy with this one. Maybe I'll try again later, but I had to write my idea down or I wouldn't be able to to remember it lol. Hope you like it 😊.

[pedroshotwifey]

Trouble in Paradise (Part One)

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada

A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3

*******

You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down. 

After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”. 

You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky. 

“Sweetheart?” 

Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.

You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back. 

“Be down in a minute!”

Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way. 

You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—

You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise. 

You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to. 

It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times. 

His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door. 

He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm. 

“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.” 

Smooth, you think. 

“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret. 

He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember. 

You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?” 

Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.” 

Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues. 

You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.

Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier. 

When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?

Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that. 

You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. 

You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—

You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth. 

“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?” 

Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel. 

“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight. 

“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—” 

“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—” 

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.” 

In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad. 

“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”

You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.” 

He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.” 

You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs. 

“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.” 

*****

Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?

You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what? 

God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation. 

It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel? 

Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with. 

You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door. 

“Come in,” you call, unmoving.

“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.” 

You sit up at this. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.” 

Oh thank God. 

“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.” 

You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input. 

Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction. 

“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.” 

He gives you a hug and closes your door. 

You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case. 

*****

As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03. 

The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake. 

Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now. 

“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.” 

You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand. 

You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front. 

It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry. 

“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down. 

“I’m hungry.” 

Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?” 

You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation. 

Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX. 

He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him. 

“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.” 

He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing. 

Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first. 

“By the window, darlin’,” he says.

You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later. 

“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains. 

Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful? 

“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward. 

The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you. 

You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.

For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination. 

But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers 

through your earbuds. 

You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes. 

He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.

“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.” 

You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him. 

“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.” 

He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too. 

The speaker dings again:

“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.” 

Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was. 

******

You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane. 

You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming. 

There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise. 

You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into. 

You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up. 

“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.” 

You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.” 

He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting. 

“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”

Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area. 

“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.” 

You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.

You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan. 

“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles. 

You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace. 

“What all are we going to be doing?” 

Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?” 

“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?” 

“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.” 

You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues. 

“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.” 

Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel. 

“Sounds easy enough,” you say. 

Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”

“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.” 

You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours. 

Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep. 

******

Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.

Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)

Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember Me? (Part four)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: very small chapter, but I felt like adding more to this part would not be good, so I'll try my best to write the next chapter quickly. Though I will not make any promises as my exams start from Wednesday, and I need to study for them.

•○🌑○•

Y/n glared at the redhead at her doorway.

She wanted to tell him to leave, but she couldn't turn him away now that her son had seen the visitor.

Eris smiled at Fin, stepping closer to the threshold, and Y/n almost slammed the door in his face in a panic that gripped her. Eris's eyes flew to her, and he raised his hands. He gave her a look that said no harm intended.

She hesitantly inched the door open, wondering about what his motives might be in visiting them, especially in the dead of the night. It also didn't help that her son was so eager about a stranger.

She'll have to have a chat with him.

But for now, she let Eris in.

He stepped in, nodding at her before again turning to Fin, grinning.

"It's good seeing you again."

Due to the heavy rain outside, Eris was dripping wet, droplets of water cascading down his body and dropping everywhere from his soaked clothes. And she wouldn't clean it, especially when the person making the mess wasn't welcome.

"I hope you realise you are making a mess. You will be cleaning it."

Eris blinked at her as she shut the door and turned to him, her arms crossed across her chest. "You're talking to me?"

"I don't see anyone else I could be talking to. You are soaked and dripping water everywhere. I will not be cleaning it."

"Oh, alright."

And despite everything, she watched intently as his clothes dried up, his body glowing lightly. Even the small puddle that he had created on the floor hissed and vanished, as if it never existed.

Fin gasped, staring wide eyed at the display of magic. "How did you do that?!"

"It's my magic, young one."

"Really?" Fin stared at the Autumn Court's High Lord in wonder.

"Really." Eris smiled.

"What else can you do?"

"Hmm. I have fire magic, so I can do anything related to it."

Fin giggled, grabbing Eris's hand and tugging him into the living room.

Y/n sighed. She really did need to talk to her son.

She could do that later. At the moment, she decided to follow them. But after she made some tea. It was late, and she could feel a headache coming.

By the time the tea had brewed and she poured it into two cups, Eris had made himself at home on her couch. He was leaning back, nodding along as Fin showed him his toys.

Eris glanced back, realising Y/n was back. He straightened, still nodding along to Fin, but now looking at her.

She set a cup down in front of him, leaning against the doorframe leading towards the staircase that led to their bedroom.

She just watched as Fin and Eris played, Fin mostly running to his toys box, bringing out a new toy, handing it to Eris, and then running back to get something new.

Within a few moments, there was a pile of toys next to Eris on the couch, and never once did he stop paying attention to the little child speaking enthusiastically. He didn't seem to notice anything other than Fin.

Which was cute.

Y/n didn't know where that thought came from, but it did.

•○🌑○•

Y/n sighed. It had almost been an hour since Eris had arrived, and Fin showed no signs of stopping.

Eris had, at some point, begun to make figurines out of his fire magic, making little animals float above his hands before making them run through the air around a giggling and squealing Fin.

By midnight, Y/n's restrain snapped.

"Finnian. Its time for bed. Come on, let's go."

Fin looked up with placating eyes. "Please mama. Just a few more–"

"You better get back to the bedroom young man, before I yell at you. We both know we don't want that." She said, gentle but stern.

His eyes filed with tears and he dropped the toy he was holding in his hand into the box. After that, he simply waddled away.

Y/n watched his every move until he disappeared upstairs, guilt gnawing at her heart. She sighed before turning back to her unwanted guest.

He sat there looking extremely uncomfortable. He sat at attention when her eyes met his, looking ready to bolt.

She walked closer, her arms folded across her chest. He stood up quickly when she entered his personal space.

"Eris." She regarded him coldly. "I don't know what you want with me or my son. I don't know why you are so interested in our lives. But I do know that I will not be tolerating your bullshit until you give me a good reason not to gut you like a fish. You hear me?"

He nodded, opening his mouth. She didn't give him a chance.

"Good. Now get out. And don't show your face until you have a good reason."

She made to turn away, but Eris interrupted her.

"I can't leave. Have you seen the rain outside? I'll catch a cold. And where will I go–"

"There's plenty of places where you can crash for the night. For instance, an Inn in Velaris could surely accommodate you. And as for you being wet, you can perform your little party trick to dry up."

"Come on, it's just for one night! I'll leave in the morning. Please, he would want me to stay."

Y/n sighed deeply. "Eris. Get. Out. If you are so desperate to spend time with my son, then you can come back later. For now, I not letting a practical stranger live under the same roof as my son."

The two of them had a staring competition for a few moments before he caved.

"Fine." He turned away, walking out of the door. She slammed it shut the moment he stepped fully over the threshold.

She leaned back against the door, staring up at the ceiling. Tears of frustration pricked at her eyes.

Why was it always her?

It wasn't fair, her life being filled with hardships.

First she got pregnant with the child of a male she thought loved her, then she had to run away from home when she found out she was with child. She had to live in a cottage all alone, never stepping outside for fear that her father would be waiting to capture her. She raised her son all by herself, knowing nothing about how to care for a baby.

And now, she had run into the father of her child, who wanted nothing to do with her, had no hand in raising the child, but still thought he was entitled to him.

And a practical stranger was so invested in her and her son's life that he was showing up to their door in the middle of the night.

Life was just great.

She let out a frustrated breath before retreating to her bedroom, where she found Fin lying down, facing away from the door. If she hadn't been paying attention, she would have thought that he was asleep.

But he wasn't. She could hear faint sniffling sounds coming from him, and her heart broke in her chest.

She hadn't yelled at him by any means, but she knew she still hurt his feelings.

She slowly tiptoed behind him, lying down and then snaking an arm around his small frame.

"Hey." She whispered. He stayed quiet.

When she tried to tug him back towards her so she could hug him, he wiggled away angrily. "I'm sorry. Could you consider forgiving me?"

He shook his head, his sniffles increasing.

"Please tell me why you are angry my love."

She tried to tug him back again. This time he let her.

He was quiet for a few moment as she combed her fingers through his hair. "You didn't let me play with him. You almost yelled at me."

"I'm sorry for that." And she was sorry. Because she knew it wasn't his fault she was insecure and scared of trusting others. "Really. Please forgive me?"

He turned to look at her, his face red and wet, tears lining his eyes and lashes. "I wanted to play with him mommy."

"You can play with him some other time. It was getting late and you could have gotten sick if you stayed up long. I'm still sorry for almost yelling."

He nodded, scrunching his tiny little face. "Okay. I forgive you."

She held back a grin, feeling bad for wanting to laugh at his despair. No one should blame her though, kids were just funny like that.

"Thank you very much."

"Where is he now?"

"He left. He is staying somewhere else."

"Why? He could have stayed here with us."

"Baby, do you remember what I told ypu about strangers?" When he nodded, she continued. "He is a stranger to you, is he not?"

Fin stayed quiet.

"You should not trust strangers so much."

"But you know him mama. He is not a stranger if you know him right?"

He got her there.

"Yes darling, but I don't know him well. I'm not saying you should not play with him. I'm just saying you should be careful around other strangers. And I am also trying to understand why you like him so much."

He played with his fingers for a couple of moments before answering.

"Because I don't have anyone to play with."

She stilled, then whispered. "What?"

He nodded, not meeting her eyes.

"I don't have any friends, other than Sam and Nyx. And I don't even play with them that much. I feel very lonely mama."

Her heart cracked for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

She realised that in her need to protect her baby from the evil of this world, she had kept him from the happiness and joy too.

And that would simply not do.

"You have me to play with." She pointed out weakly.

"But you have been very busy and you seem very stressed all the time. I didn't want to disturb you."

She beat back the tears that threatened to clog her throat. "I will never be too busy to play with you. And you don't have to worry about disturbing me. Ever." Then, she added. "If it helps, Eris is going to come by tomorrow. I told him he can come to play with you."

She didn't know if that would happen, considering the verbal lashing that she gave him before kicking him out. Though she did hope he came by, because nothing was more important to her than Fin's happiness. And as for his safety, she was there to protect him.

He instantly brightened. "Really?"

Smiling, she nodded. He squealed before burying himself in the pillows, smiling at her.

She just hoped Eris would not leave Velaris without meeting Fin.

•○🌑○•

Part 5

Taglist: @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @nightless @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @cult-of-enji-todoroki @moonlwghts @laurenzitaa @wallacewillow0773638 @12358

[griefabyss69]

A Day After

Written for @steddiemicrofic!

[ AO3 ]

'TIME' wc: 485 | rated: T | cw: Canonical character death, Grief

Steve writes to Eddie.

Even though he wakes up every single day, celebrates holidays when he's supposed to, and shows up to work when he's scheduled, Steve never feels the passage of time.

It's like he's stuck outside of it; like maybe whatever affliction the Upside Down had, he has it too, and he's made of nothing but mold and rotten water.

I dunno though. he scribbles in his notebook.

It seems like it's just me, nobody else feels the like, weight of all of it. Once the graves were all shut with dirt it's like everyone forgot how many fresh ones there were, like it got erased from their minds.

What does that make me? Too caught up in the past, right? It's the new decade tomorrow and all I can think about is four years ago. I shouldn't write to you still, but I keep doing it anyway.

Robin says she's gonna make me do psychotherapy, but it doesn't feel like it's all just in my head, it feels like I got some of those spores into my DNA or however that works. Now I'm just another demo-whatever without the gruesome teeth.

I dunno.

There's always unfinished business, right? But I can't figure out what the hell it is that I need to finish up. I want to move on but anytime I try nothing happens.

Maybe I died too. Maybe I'm a ghost and don't know it. Ghosts get stuck in loops too, maybe I'm just ghost-hallucinating it when I change the calendar.

Whatever. I know I'm being a downer. Maybe something good will happen soon. I promise if it does I won't forget you.

Goodnight Eddie. I'll write to you tomorrow.

Steve closes his notebook and buries it under everything else in its drawer. It'll be time to buy another one soon, this one is getting full. He has a shoebox of the old ones hidden in his closet under a bunch of porn mags. He hopes that somewhere Eddie's ghost thinks that's funny.

He gets ready for bed and doesn't look himself in the eye when he brushes his teeth. Despite how crazy it is, he still thinks maybe someday he can show Eddie some of the letters he's written to him. Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps him going, even though when life feels more normal he's too embarrassed to even think about it.

As soon as he falls asleep that night, just like every night, invisible fingers brush against his cheek and soft invisible lips press a brave kiss to his mouth.

Eddie lays at the edge of the bed and Steve instinctively makes room for him, though he technically could just float or literally share the space. He passes through people quite easily. He watches the furrow between Steve's eyes ease away with satisfaction.

"Hang in there," Eddie says with a voice like staticky TV snow. "Something good is coming."

[transformee]

The Naughty List

“The f- uh, can I help you?” Rick wasn’t sure how else to respond in the moment as he walked into his living room to find a large man in a red costume hunched over next to the fireplace.

“Oh, wonderful! Yes, perfect timing as a matter of fact. I was hoping I could wrap up this last stop quickly.” The man put his gloved hand on the mantle and hoisted himself upright, leaving little doubt as to his identify as he turned to face Rick. The beard, the belly, the suit – it was all there.

“Ok then, errr… Santa. I’ll play along. Did Jace put you up to this? How did you even get in here?”

“Why, through the chimney of course, just like always! Things just took a bit longer this year, but here I am!”

“Yeah, I mean, aren’t you a bit late? It’s almost New Years…”

The normally jolly look on Santa’s face soured a bit, although Rick didn’t notice. “Well, there are a couple billion more people than there used to be,” said Santa, dripping with rare sarcasm. “And no one is happy with the simple things anymore, so everything has to be bigger and bigger and better than ever before for social media and-“ Santa snapped out of his little rant, coming back to his senses. "But enough about that. Those gifts are reserved for those on the Nice list. These Naughty stops are usually much faster," he said with a chuckle.

"Ah, so I'm on the Naughty list, eh," Rick said with a smirk, now convinced that this was just a prank or little bit of roleplay that his boyfriend Jace had arranged. "What does that run these days? A few extra lumps of coal from inflation?"

"Sometimes yes, actually. It varies quite widely though, you see. And I do tend to save something... special for my last stop. it makes the rest of my year until next Christmas season much more enjoyable! And you, my little Dickie, have been on the Naughty list for so long, you finally earned that last spot..."

"Dickie? No one has called me that since I was like-"

"8, in fact."

Rick's previously amused expression slowly darkened. "And how the hell would you know THAT? I've never told anyone that, not even Jace."

"Oh, you know how all the songs go... I've been watching you for a long time, Dickie. Or would you prefer another moniker? Big Dick Rick, perhaps?"

"Ok, well, I don't have time for this anymore. Suit yourself." Rick turned around with a huff, intending to leave and accost Jace over the weird interaction in their home.

"Very well - I'll do just that!" A red cloud enveloped Rick from behind as Santa blew a handful of red dust that he had fished out from a punch on his large traditional belt. Rick coughed and waived his arms around before the cloud seemed to thicken and swirl around him until...

"THE FUCK-!?"

Just a quickly as it had swallowed him, the red cloud dissipated and left Rick wide-eyed and speechless. His clothes had all evaporated with Santa's smoke, and he was hovering a few inches above the ground. Santa just smirked as Rick spun his arms and legs around, trying to orient himself and regain some control.

"Ah, that's better! As you said, Rick, I don't have time for this early, so let's get this show on the road. I was going to give you and Jace the same special treatment that I usually save for my last stop, but I just thought of something different for you. Now... come to Santa!"

Rick's ass started to pull backwards towards Santa, with the rest of Rick floating along with it. Meanwhile Santa quickly unbuckled his belt and let his trademark pants fall to the floor, releasing his jolly belly and reveling a modest-but-erect cock aimed right at Rick's ass.

"Wait! Wha- what are you doing?!? N- EE!" Rick's protests ended with a high pitched squeak as Santa's cock slid right into his hole, leaving him mounted mid-air on Santa's crotch. A small moan escaped both their lips before Rick snapped back to his senses, albeit momentarily.

"N- no! This isn't- JACE! Jace! Ja..." Rick's words slurred and his eyes rolled back slightly as a bit more red dust sprinkled down from Santa's glove above his head.

"There, there... Just relax. That'll make this next part faster and more enjoyable for both of us," cooed Santa in Rick's ear. And with that, Santa leaned forward slightly and started to rub his gloved hands down Rick's muscular thighs, rounding his knees before pulling up slightly on his shins and feet. Again and again, Santa gently tucked Rick's lower body up towards his own as the changes slowly became more and more noticeable. With each pass, Rick's legs diminished in size, rounding off and lifting up towards their new home. Santa's balls hung low as Rick's feet finally made contact, merging and sinking inside. Within a matter a moments, Rick's legs had been fully engulfed by Santa's nuts, which now sat slightly larger in Santa's hand. He rolled them around with his gloved fingers, eliciting another louder moan from them both. And then, at least the most perfect or most awkward time...

"Rick, babe, was that you? Did you need help with something?" Jace descended the stairs down in the hall in front of the living room, giving him a direct view of the show. "Babe, what did yo-" Jace's eyes grew wide like saucers at the sight of his legless cross-eyed boyfriend magically suspended out from Santa's crotch. He would have been speechless even if a bolt of Santa's dust hadn't smacked his as soon as he turned the corner, leaving him frozen in place. A few muffled screams faded quickly as the calming effects of Santa's magic took hold.

"Oops! Well that was some interesting timing... Sorry about that, Jace, but you'll just have to wait there for your turn. Don't worry - it won't be long!"

And with that, Santa refocused on the task at hand, quite literally. "Well first, we need to do something about these big broad shoulders of yours!" Santa reached out his large hands and started to caress and press them on Rick's traps, pulling down and back and around from the base of his neck. Just like with his legs, each pass of Santa's hands brought accelerating changes as Rick's muscular shoulders and arms began to smooth down and slowly merge into his torso. Rick's biceps flexed a couple final times on reflex, but that didn't last long as they disappeared into the rest of him. Rick's new shape was becoming more and more clear unbeknownst to him. He simply remained a moaning mess mounted on Santa's cock.

"Mmmmmm, now for the best parts," Santa moaned as he reached back down towards his balls before stroking upwards. He hadn't forgotten that Rick's rock hard cock was still protruding, but not for long. Rick let out his loudest moan yet, and his eyes rolled back again as Santa pressed his cock against his abs, again and again, pressing it deeper and deeper until only Rick's smoothed abs remained. Rick groaned one last time before a different sound finally emerged - more of a gurgle. Santa purred at the new noise. "Mmmmmmm, yes, that's what I've been waiting for. That's what I love to hear..." Shifting his focus one final time, Santa stretched out with both hands as far as he could, just barely able to reach Rick's handsome face. Santa gently caressed Rick's cheeks as he pulled backwards, stroking what remained of Rick's body with both hands all the way down both sides from head to hips, stopping only to give Rick's pecs and nipples a squeeze on the way. The little bit of Rick's consciousness that struggled to hang on quickly lost its will as it felt like Santa's cock was growing inside of him with every stroke. The reality of course was slightly different as it was actually Rick's body dwindling in size. His mind was too mushy to notice however as Santa gave his pecs and nipples one last tease before they disappeared, causing that gurgling sound to bubble up from within Rick again and a dab of drool, or at least something that looked like drool, to dribble out the corner of his mouth and down his chin. Rick's hips had already disappeared into Santa's at this point, leaving what was left of him firmly attached. Santa's floating magic was barely even needed at this point as Santa had shrunk what was left of Rick down down past 3 feet to less than 2. His hands now easily reached all the way around Rick's body, so it was time to finally focus on Rick's head. Santa's gloves gently slid around his face, smoothing his forehead and chin back and down. It only took a few strokes before all that was left was Rick's tiny face on the tip of Santa's significantly larger rock-hard cock. Any illusion of Rick's torso was long gone, with cock veins clearly straining along what had been his body. Cum clearly leaked from his lips as he bobbed up and down a bit, and Rick's glazed eyes could only stare straight up at Santa's jolly face smiled down at him from above. And with that, the last thing that Rick saw was Santa's gloves bearing down on his one last time for one last tug, as his final features smoothed away, leaving just an engorged pink drooling head on the end of the dick that Rick had always been.

Santa groaned as Rick's transformation completed, with every last bit of nerve and fiber finally merged with his own.

"Nnggghhhhhhh, Big Dick Rick indeed..." Santa moaned as his new python of a cock started to soften slightly, all the while continuing to drool. "And for your first performance..." Santa's eyes gleamed as he turned and his mouth drew into a wide smirk... 'I'm going to need a volunteer!"

Horrified didn't even begin to cover it as Jace remained wide-eyed and frozen, staring at his former boyfriend leaking onto the floor from between Santa's jiggling thighs.

"For you, Jace, I've saved the usual 'gift' I give at the end of the season. This one is more for me really, but every now and then a recipient even enjoys it too! Now, don't be shy..." Santa playfully motioned for Jace with his index finger, calling him over.

"Mmmmm... mmmmmm!" Jace tried to cry out but could only manage a muffled protest as he felt himself lift off the ground slightly and twist and angle directly towards Santa. Then, suddenly and far faster than Rick had hovered, Jace was flung across the room in an instant, like a magnet flying to it partner. Jace's destination was far from a magnet however, as Big Dick Rick barreled his way between Jace's lips with a satisfying *schlorp*. Jace gagged from having such a massive member suddenly down his throat, but he quickly relaxed as a light sprinkle of that familiar red dusted his face. His eyes crossed and rolled back as he started to go to town on his former boyfriend, using every trick and tongue that he had ever learned. Santa practically roared in pleasure.

"Good lord, boy! I didn't even suggest... any...JESUS, you're good at this!" Santa could barely form a thought while getting what must've been the best blowjob of his life. He only wished it could've lasted longer, but Rick was so... so... sensitive...!

Three souls groaned as Santa's body started to buck and his 'gift' started to pour into Jace. A torrent of cum and mass and magic erupted from Rick's old lips straight down Jace's throat - far more than should have been physically possible. But this was no normal load, as Jace's body started to quiver. Not that Jace could discern anything further, but Santa's ample body was undergoing a change of its own. His belly shook like a bowl full of jelly as it receded inwards, all while Jace's breathing grew more labored. His tight-fitting clothes groaned, stretching at the seams as Jace expanded in all directions. Every part of him inflated like a balloon as Santa's did the opposite, with the disappearing mass revealing a sculpted physical behind. After the magical climax, Santa slowed stepped back, sliding his cock out of his cock's boyfriend's now-chubby face. Jace slumped to the floor on his knees, leaving his rotund rear end sticking up in the air.

"Aahhhhhh, that always feels soooooo much better, like the best version of getting your hair cut." A barely recognizable figure chuckled over the comatose boyfriend on the floor. Santa's traditional clothes started to shimmer and warp as they slowly reformed on his body. His coat pulled in quickly and tightly, foregoing new sleeves while his baggy pants snaked out from the ground, wrapping themselves around Nick’s tight thighs with a trim fit before covering the softening cock inside, sealing it in its new home.

"This is what can happen to those on the Naughty list, gentlemen. Now, we can revisit your Naughty status near year, depending on your behavior of course. But with that, I think we can call this season a wrap! Time to hit up somewhere warm like Miami and have some fun for a bit!” And with that and a little strut, Nick made his way out of the house, giving Jace’s ample airborne ass a little slap along the way. He stretched his muscles, now on full display, and summoned his list with a puff of red smoke to cross his last names off for the year. However…

“Well what’s this? Did I miss one somehow? I guess we have one more quick stop this year, Rick!” said Nick as he pawed at his crotch with a smirk. “Now let’s see. Bryce… Bryce… are we Naughty or Nice! Ah ha! N-“

———————————————————————

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year to all, especially @bizzhideaway ! 😁

[elspethdekarios]

Atonement

Hello fellow Solavellan sufferers!!! I've written a little fic about what I imagine goes down between Solas and Lavellan once the game is over. I'll have you know I listened to the Lost Elf Theme on repeat while writing it, if that tells you anything. Anyway, read below the cut or on AO3 here!

SFW, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2,821

! HUGE VEILGUARD SPOILERS !

When she stepped into the Fade, hand in hand with her love, Sulah had no preconceived notion of what to expect on the other side, nor did she spend a moment speculating about what it could possibly be. She was with Solas, after all, and there was no use in trying to predict his actions. It was funny, really—how she found him predictable and surprising all in the same. No, there was little use trying to guess where in the Fade he would lead them. Nonetheless, she wasn't sure she would have ever expected this.

The pocket of the Fade they walked into was dull and gray as stone. In fact, most of it was stone. Fragments of buildings and debris floated slowly through the foggy sky above. Tendrils of winding roots grew up through cracks in the stone. There were staircases that seemed to lead to nowhere, and twisted, barren trees clinging to broken columns and walls. The air was so still it felt stifling in Sulah’s lungs. And Solas, downtrodden and bruised, looked like he belonged there. Like he was part of the backdrop. As if he could hear her thoughts, he spoke.

“It is a reflection of what I am. What I don't want to be.” He paused, dropping his head. “What I don't want to face.”

“This is how you atone?”

“I told you it would be terrible.”

“And I told you forever.” Sulah turned to him, heart aching for the bloodied mess of his face. “I meant it.”

Solas lifted his head enough to look at her through glassy, violet eyes. “I don’t deserve you, vhenan.”

“I think that’s up to me,” she said, wiping away a stray tear on his cheek. “Let’s talk, my love. Before you start making your amends.”

They sat with their backs against a nearby stone wall. Solas’s eyes alternated between being heavy with sleep and haunting despair. He looked so much older than she remembered him—not physically, really, but in the way he seemed to be held down with millennia of burden. On the other hand, he had the heartbreaking demeanor of a child unable to emotionally grasp the multitude of his feelings.

“I don’t know… where to start,” he breathed. With one look at her, a hint of hope glimmered amongst the sadness in his eyes. “I have missed you. Desperately so.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Sulah’s voice cracked as she spoke, a stream of tears steadily falling down her cheeks. She brushed them away and smiled sadly. “So let’s start there, shall we?”

His kiss tasted of salt and metal. She didn’t care about the wounds on his face or the small gash on his lip still swelling with blood. It had been a decade since she tasted him, touched him, spoke to him. Even though she knew he visited in her dreams, he never made contact—only watched, a dark figure in the distance. How she longed to reach out for him every time, to pull him close and find solace in his arms like she used to. Sulah crawled in front of him, her knees aching as they pressed into the cold stone, and wrapped her arms around his neck. After a brief hesitation, Solas rested his hands on her waist, his touch timid at first, like he was afraid of doing something wrong. But his touch grew more confident by the second, and soon his arms were wrapped around her so tight she could barely breathe. It felt as if a missing piece of her heart had been restored, held in place by molten gold.

“I don’t know that I can possibly tell you all of it. Perhaps I could… show you, instead.” With a single thought, Solas willed into the Fade a blue crystal statuette of a wolf, not unlike the one Sulah found when his ritual failed. He held it, concentrated on it, and its core radiated bright blue magic. He held the figure out to her. As Sulah took it from him, their destitute surroundings swirled and dissolved, leaving her in front of a young Solas. His face was not quite so worn with pain and exhaustion like the one she knew. Long, auburn hair cascaded down the center of his head, falling over his shoulder as he turned to face the other elf in front of him.

“Solas, how could you?” the other elf asked. His skin was tan, his hair was dark, and his face was marked with Mythal’s branching vallaslin. The same branches that Sulah had tattooed underneath her eyes.

“I do not expect you to understand, Felassan,” Solas said, standing tall and proud as ever. “It was necessary for the enemy to believe we were committed. A heavy sacrifice, but one that gave us a real chance to end the war.”

“You knowingly sent those spirits to their deaths!” Felassan shouted. “We’re supposed to be better than this.”

Felassan spoke to Solas with the intimacy and confidence of a close friend, unafraid to confront his wrongdoings. Sulah could make out a hint of remorse in Solas’s eyes before his face hardened into a scowl.

“I did what had to be done.”

The scene dissipated. Ruins were replaced with the glorious landscape of ancient Arlathan, sprawling greenery among grand, floating palaces. Solas argued with an elven woman who Sulah now recognized as Mythal. She was identical to the spirit fragment she had seen before stepping into the Fade with Solas, only solid and real. The words they spoke were jumbled, as if Solas couldn’t remember the exact things said when he transferred the memory to the statue, but Sulah knew what they were discussing all the same: the Blight. Solas protested, pleaded with Mythal, before finally giving in to her demands.

“I will follow you always,” he said. Sulah had never heard him sound so defeated. A distinct and overwhelming sense of shame settled over her as the scene faded.

The memories continued like this, one after the other, each one brief but enough to show her the actions that haunted him. And enough to leave her with thousands of questions. She saw his regrets from centuries ago—memories of Mythal, Elgern’an, Ghilan’nain, the other Evanuris. She saw him destroy the legacy of the titans, and the corruption that introduced the Blight to the world. She saw his sorrow at the creation of the Veil, the loss of the world he knew, the unbreakable tether he had to Mythal, similar to a commandeering mother and a child eager to please her, desperate for her approval. She saw his plans to give Corypheus the orb go awry, the conflict raging inside of him as he fell in love with Sulah, the way he almost told her the truth that night in Crestwood. She felt the guilt he carried afterwards—that he still carried. She saw him devise his devious plan to mold Rook into someone the prison would take in his place. His betrayal and desperation.

She saw the despair in his eyes when he killed Varric.

Sulah stood on the raised platform where Solas orchestrated his ritual, watching as Varric climbed the stairs in an attempt to stop his friend. Even in a memory, the air was charged with powerful magic, culminating in a swirling wind that blew her hair into her face, obscuring her view. She could only make out fragments of the argument.

“You need to listen—”

“You have come a long way and made a valiant effort, Varric—”

“—able to give me a straight answer—”

“—rather than admit this is mine to solve—”

“—who are you trying to convince here? Me or yourself?”

Varric’s last statement stung like a knife. His words echoed as time slowed. Sulah felt the heavy burden of self doubt imbued in Solas’s memory as the two men locked eyes, their argument hanging in the air between them. In a chaotic flash, several things happened: Solas turned to continue the ritual, Varric attempted to pry the lyrium dagger from Solas’s hands, and the monuments of the Evanuris surrounding the ritual site began to fall. Somewhere in the chaos, while wrenching the dagger back from Varric’s grasp, the blade pierced through his chest. The sound of ripping flesh. The gasp from Varric’s mouth.

“NO!” Sulah shouted. Time had slowed, and she rushed to catch him as he stumbled, forgetting that it was no use. Her arms moved through him like a ghost.

Solas watched his friend fall to the bottom of the stairs, regret bubbling up inside of him at what he’d done. And still, the sense of doubt from Varric’s words lingered, sullying Solas’s certainty as innocent blood seeped through the fabric of his gloves.

He steeled himself with cold resolve and turned away.

The gray of the Fade prison came back into view. Sulah felt like she had been in Solas’s memories for hours, but neither her body nor his had moved from the ground against the wall. He watched her with bated breath, his jaw clenched, eyes glossy with fresh tears. Moments ago, she watched him command a rebellion, steadfast and resolute and proud. A powerful god among mortals. But the Solas in front of her now held little of the immense ancient spirit she’d seen. He was only a man, broken from the weight of his regrets.

“I cannot ask for your forgiveness, vhenan. Not even your understanding.” His voice broke, his next words spoken through a sob. “I am so sorry that I let you fall in love with a monster.”

Solas hugged his knees to his chest. His hands shook and his body trembled as he cried. It was pure, raw, searing emotion—and it was the first time she had ever seen him lose control of himself. Sulah had been lonely for years, yearning for the man who felt like home while sleeping cold in an empty bed, but she’d never felt as alone as she felt now, sitting in the vast emptiness of the Fade with a god shedding centuries’ worth of repressed agony that she could never possibly comprehend. He was the one who always seemed to know what to do, who had a plan for everything. He was the one more familiar with the Fade than the waking world. But he was also the one who had to face his regrets. His pain. And he had already proven that he couldn’t do that on his own.

“Solas,” she said, quiet and sad. “You killed Varric.”

“I’m sorry,” he choked through tears.

“I… I knew he was gone, but no one…” she trailed off, thinking back to the letter she received from Morrigan shortly after she met Rook and the others. Varric was gravely injured in an altercation. He did not make it. I am sorry you have to find out this way. “No one told me it was by your hand.”

“They were protecting you,” he said. “From the truth of what I am. Perhaps they shouldn’t have done so.”

Sulah sat in silence, trying to piece it all together in her mind.

“I never meant to hurt Varric,” Solas whispered. “I have harmed so many people, innocent people, and Varric… Varric….”

He stopped speaking and rested his forehead on his knees, letting the tears fall on his armor.

“My love—”

“How can you possibly still love me, Sulah?” he snapped, a wolf showing his fangs. “I deserve whatever cruel fate awaits me here. You do not.”

“Solas—”

“Would you truly—”

“Let me speak,” she said, stern and commanding. Her Inquisitor voice, the other members liked to call it. It worked. Solas nodded for her to continue. “To heal from your past, you have to confront it. It will be painful, but you must. Tell me about Varric.”

Solas sighed and let his head fall back to the wall, the apex of his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Varric was a good man. He was my friend.” He closed his eyes and Sulah watched as a single tear ran down his bloodied face. She tried to hold back her own tears, but they streamed warm down her cheeks nonetheless.

“What would you say to him if he were here?”

“That it is one of my greatest regrets, one that I desperately wish I could take back. That I enjoyed his company on our journey years ago, and that I have missed him in the years since. And that I am terribly, terribly sorry.”

Like a prayer, the final words escaped Solas’s mouth in a despondent whisper. In the distance, a structure resembling the skyline of Kirkwall crumbled. Sulah recognized it from her visit several years ago. She had only made it to Kirkwall once in the time that Varric was viscount, a position he reluctantly accepted, but one that she always suspected he secretly enjoyed. He took her to the cliffs of Sundermount, where Dalish sometimes set up camp. It looked remarkably like the area of the Free Marches her clan frequented before she left.

“I thought it might remind you of home”, he had said.

“I came here to see* your *home, Varric.”

“We’re doing that too.” he pointed across the water to the silhouetted, square buildings.

She smiled at the memory and let herself cry as the Kirkwall replica became an avalanche of stone plummeting into the abyss. When its final, broken pieces fell, Solas turned back to her and took a long breath. She looked at him, attempting to reconcile the Solas she knew and loved, the Solas in front of her now, with the Solas she saw in his memories. There was a cruel pride deep inside of him, one he tried to keep from her for so long. She could see it now, and it was fractured.

How could she possibly come to terms with all he had done? He had taken Varric away from this world, a man who, despite his faults, brought hope and friendship and humor into the world around him. She could feel the empty, aching shells of all the hearts who missed him—including her own. There were more adventures to be had, more books to be written, and Solas took it away. Away from Varric, away from the world. Sulah couldn’t bring herself to consider the even larger things he had done. The man she loved was responsible for the Blight. He tranquilized the Titans. He murdered his friends—sometimes on accident, sometimes for what he considered betrayal.

Sulah steadied her breathing and closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm of the air flowing in and out of her lungs. She let the world fall away until she could feel nothing but the essence of her soul spreading into her limbs, making her weightless. If Solas was a spirit of wisdom, what was she, deep down? A word stirred somewhere in the depths of her heart: patience.

“This is going to take a long time, vhenan.” Solas’s words roused her from contemplation.

“Yes,” she said. “For both of us, I think.”

For the first time since reuniting, he touched her of his own accord, studying her prosthetic arm with gentle fingers before resting his hand on her thigh beside it.

“It’s a good thing time doesn’t exist in the Fade, then.” Sulah placed her remaining hand on top of his. “To answer your earlier question, I choose to still love you despite your mistakes, Solas. I love you because I tried to move on, to meet other people, but none of them could touch whatever piece of my soul that you do. Every person I tried to give my heart to was a flimsy bandage over a gaping wound. And I had to reconcile with myself that I love someone who would tear the world apart for his own stubborn pride. I know your heart, Solas. You are more than your mistakes.”

Sulah felt as if a small part of the rift between them had stitched itself back together; a fragile scar translucent and deep, but healing nonetheless. For a moment, the insurmountable hurdles she would have to help him overcome fell away. It was just the two of them, together in the Fade like all those years ago. She knew how the world would see them: the lovestruck Inquisitor and the Dread Wolf. The cautionary tale of a Dalish girl who fell right into the jaws of Fen’Harel himself.

“Sulah,” Solas reached for her face with both hands, holding her like he had to be sure she wasn’t a mere reflection of his desire. “As long as you will have me, I swear to you: I will never abandon you again. You will have me, always.”

His kiss was soft, but charged with intention. Devotion. As they broke apart, he pulled Sulah into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

“Ar lath ma vhenan. Bellanaris.”

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Eternal Punishment au

this is the au I talked about in an ask a while ago, get ready this part is pretty long

Adam groaned as he finally woke up. He didn't know how long he was out, but it didn't matter, looks like angelic steel isn't so tough after all. He looked around and saw that he was nowhere near the stupid bitch's little hotel but instead, he was in some dingy alleyway.

Adam: 'Probably a good thing, none of those cunts will see me and stab me again'

Adam thought as he wobblily got up on his legs only to immediately fall back down when he looked down at his body. Adam stared down in shock at his bare body, not a single scrape of clothing on him. However, that was not what had him completely petrified to his core. No, it was the sight of two huge breasts, wide hips, and the worst yet where once his most proud feature dangled in between his legs now lay a hairy quim.

His breathing picked up and he tried to scramble backward to try and get away from this, this, this...female body but no matter how hard he tried it was following him like flies to death. He closed his eyes hard and opened them. Hoping that at some point, it would all be a dream and he'd be back up in his home in Heaven safely tucked in his bed. He was so concentrated on waking from this nightmare that he didn't notice the sound of wings flapping or the sound of feet landing on the pavement.

Lucifer: Well, well, well what do we have here?

Slowly Adam raised his shaking head to see the King of Hell himself standing right in front of him. He yelped involuntarily scrambling backwards. Lucifer didn't react

Lucifer: Have to say, this new style of yours really suits you

He said as his eyes traveled up and down his enemy's body in a sinful way.

Adam: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HAPPENING?!?!?!

Adam immediately put both hands to his mouth in shock, his once deep, gruff voice was now replaced by a feminine-sounding voice with a slightly deep pitch. Lucifer, like the ass he is, laughed at Adam.

Lucifer: Oh ho, ho, ho, ho this, this is simply the greatest thing to have happen in Hell's existence

Adam: YOU!

Lucifer: yes me!

Adam: YOU DID THIS TO ME DIDN'T YOU?! YOU CAST SOME SORT OF WITCHCRAFT ON ME AND NOW I'M LIKE THIS!!!! WELL JUST WAIT TILL SERA AND ALL OF HEAVEN HEAR OF WHAT YOU DID NOT ONLY TO ME BUT TO THEIR ENTIRE ARMY AS WELL!!!!!!!

Lucifer: HA! I WISH I did this but no this wasn't me, according to the ancient rules of Hell this is simply your punishment as a sinner

Adam: ...what? No, no you are LYING! I haven't fallen! I'm no sinner! I'm an angel! a warrior of God himself sent down to smite the cruel and the wicked! Not to mention I am the first man, THE. FUCKING. MAN! Why would HE of everyone in the universe turn me into...WELL THIS!?!?!?!?

Lucifer: hmm, maybe because you were what many would call a misogynistic pig who only thought with his dick?

Adam: Wait why am I even TALKING to you I'll just go back to the agency, and they'll have this thing all sorted out!

Lucifer: (sighs) Fine, maybe this will help get it through your head.

with a snap of his fingers, the two were inside the embassy Adam ran around calling and screaming for anyone

Adam: SERA!? EMILY!? ANYONE UP THERE WHO CAN HEAR ME

Right at that moment a sort of ding was heard and Adam raced towards the desk, a rolled-up glowing scroll floated in the air. Adam snatched it, unrolled it, and began reading

'Adam, first man, and father of humanity, though, fortunately, you have lived through the battle where you were proclaimed permanently dead. However, through your actions over the centuries, it is now clear that you are no longer divine, nor should be. We hope you will understand that we did what was necessary for Heaven's protection, may you find some form of light down in the pit of darkness'

Adam's hand, which was holding the letter, dropped to his side in shock. He shook his head in denial, no, no, he...he did what they wanted him to do, he did all that they asked of him and more! He was loyal to Lilith, then Eve, he fathered the first generation of humanity, he prayed to the angels each and every night when he was alive, and when he ascended to Heaven, he still did all that they asked of him and more. He led their army, and he trained and looked after those soldiers as if they were his own Ok so maybe he fucked up once, or twice, he wasn't perfect NOBODY WAS!!!

As Adam slowly began setting into the reality of the situation, Lucifer came up behind the distraught fallen angel and placed a hand on Adam's lower back. A little too low for the former first man's taste

Lucifer: Oh, now don't be too sad dear, from the road you were on, it was simply bound to happen eventually.

Adam: I don't need you mocking me you clown!

Lucifer: What? No! I would never in a serious time like this, plus not when I was about to give you a gift.

Adam: ...what?

Lucifer: You see Miss you being a woman now leaves you vulnerable. You are a fallen angel with no holy powers leaves you completely defenseless. The fact that you are in Hell as well as completely naked with creatures outside ready to take you as you are, doesn't exactly help your case, does it?

Adam: What are you trying to say? Do you want to make a deal with me? Be your little slave for your protection huh is that it?!

Lucifer simply gave him a smile

Lucifer: A slave? No, no, no, no, no, no You've got it all wrong! I don't want you to be my slave, well not in the way that your thinking at least. I want you to be my new wife

Adam's mind went completely blank after he heard the word wife. He was stunned into silence as Lucifer continued on

Lucifer: See after my, former wife's, departure I've been desperately lonely, I've been wanting a companion for a while now. A wife to come home to after a long hard day, someone to comfort me, to be by my side through and through. Not to mention certain...activities that I have missed doing. I know this is YOU of all people but come on we've known each other since the very beginning of time itself! Plus, your certainly easy on the eyes

Lucifer said lustfully as he bit his lip. Taking in a good long look at Adam's new...assets.

Lucifer: Also, if you marry me, I will make all your dreams come true, you will want for nothing, every need, want, luxury you could ever wish for right at the snap (snaps his fingers) of a hand, my hand of course, I as your husband, would also make sure you would see Heaven each and every night! So, my dear what do you say?

Adam: ...what do I say? What do I say?! WHAT DO I FUCKING SAY!?! NEWS FLASH KING OF CLOWNS! I MAY HAVE A PUSSY RIGHT NOW BUT I AM A MAN, THE MAN! I SAY TAKE YOUR LITTLE GAY DEAL AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!!!

With a defiant glare in Adam's eyes, he bends down a bit, inhales a bit, and then spits at the king, landing right on Lucifer's cheek. He raised a hand, wiped the saliva off his face, and raised an eyebrow as he stared at it.

Complete silence filled the entire embassy as the atmosphere grew thick around the first man and the devil. Suddenly a dark rumble sounded from Lucifer.

Lucifer: Ok then, I figured that your response would be a no at first. I actually thought that a few days out there in the streets would help prove my point and have you run straight into my arms. However, I must rectify this behavior of yours. for no one, no one, in this entire landscape makes a fool out of me, especially not my own bride.

Before Adam could do anything, Lucifer grabbed his arm, pulled him forward, and put him over his shoulder like a sack of flour

Do you like it so far? :)

OH MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE IT!!!

Adam: Wha- HEY! PUT ME DOWN!!

Lucifer just hummed as he walked through a portal back to Morningstar Manor, even though Adam could learn a lesson on the streets, he didn't want anyone to defile his bride.

The mere thought made him sick.

Lucifer walked into his, now their bedroom and flopped Adam down on the bed.

Adam: Oof!

Lucifer: You've been a very naughty girl.~

Adam rolled his eyes, Lucifer might be better than some random person on the street but that didn't mean he wanted the Devil to molest him.

He was suddenly very aware of how naked he was. Adam flushed pink and crossed his legs and crossed his arms to try and cover his new womanly body.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Congratulations!!

If you feel inspired by this combo and have time, could you write a ficlet using "I", 🍨, 🥰 or 😂, and 🔨?

Thank you!

(Apologies if you already got this ask--my device froze when I sent it the first time, so I don't know if it went through)

Thank you so much! 🥰I still remember your lovely comments on the mer-dude fic, so I hope you enjoy this little bonus! 🦕❤️🧜🏻‍♂️

Of mates and mer-dudes

Words: 996

Rated: T

Tags: summer camp AU; mer!Steve; established relationship; flirting; sexual tension; fade to black

Notes: Set in the same universe as Just add water

“Hammer.” 

“Hammer,” Eddie repeats dutifully. Dustin spends two or three seconds trying to drive the nail in with the object he's been handed, until he realizes it's a screwdriver. 

“Very funny. I said hammer.” 

“Apologies,” Eddie mutters, chucking the screwdriver back into the mess that is their toolbox with one hand and wiping his sunburnt forehead with the other. “I think we've been out here longer than is strictly healthy. How ‘bout we call it a day and head back to camp? It's almost dinner time.” 

Dustin scowls. The hair under his Thinking Cap is matted with sweat and he is red-faced and splotchy. An unavoidable side effect of working out on the secluded pier all afternoon. 

“We can't just stop now, it's almost done,” Dustin claims, gesturing at their rickety construction of wood and mesh - it’s supposed to be an oversized fish trap, even though Eddie thinks it’s turning out to be more of a funky modern art installation. “This'll work, I know it. This time, I'll prove that Lovie is real. All those past times, it got away too quickly, but if I could just-” 

“Jesus, kid,” Eddie groans. “You and your lake monster. You don't know when to give up, do you?” 

“Give up?” Dustin scoffs. “If Thomas Edison had given up, we'd still be lighting candles. If Homer Ahr had given up, we would've never walked on the moon. I sure as hell won't-?” 

“The fuck is Homer Ahr?” 

Dustin heaves a long-suffering sigh. 

“Only mission control's chief engineer, Eddie? Honestly, that's the kinda question I'd expect from Steve, not you. Where is he, by the way? I thought he wanted to help us.”

“No idea,” Eddie admits. “Lucky bastard.” 

Dustin draws a breath, probably to ask what he means, but Eddie is saved by the sound of the dinner bell floating over from the camp grounds. 

“Okay, you gremlin, off you go,” he says, pushing the kid towards the sound before another argument can break loose. “We can finish this tomorrow when we aren't dehydrated and grouchy.” 

Dustin grumbles. “What about you?”

Eddie waves him off. “Be there in a sec, lemme put away your shit first.” 

He starts picking up their scattered tools, throwing them back into the box. Only when he's sure that Dustin is well out of earshot does he collapse at the edge of the pier, naked feet dangling over the water's surface. 

“Man,” he says. “That kid, right?” 

There's a soft growl from behind him, and the barest of sloshing sounds, and a shadow falls over him. He only just manages to suck in a breath - knowing he'll need it - before a massive snout pushes between his shoulder blades and he goes plummeting into the lake. He’s dimly aware of the toolbox going down with him, and then the world vanishes in a whirl of bubbles.

He resurfaces to the feeling of arms wrapping around his waist and massive fins brushing his legs, and the sound of laughing voices - one human, one very much not so. He tries to glower at their owners, but actually needs a second to part the sopping curtain of his hair.  

“So fucking hilarious, you aquatic asshats. I thought I told you to quit doing that.” 

Lovie the lake creature just chirps merrily and dives back under again, splashing him with her fins as she goes. 

Steve shrugs. The motion makes tiny droplets of water run down his bare shoulders and collarbones, bringing out his freckles and moles and tiny, glittering scales. Eddie wants to lick them. He has long stopped worrying about what that says about him.

“Sorry. She just wants you in the water with us. She likes it when the flock is together.”

His smile is apologetic, but his tail curls around Eddie’s legs in the water, fins wrapping around the two of them possessively.

Because, see, here's the thing. Over the past year, Eddie has not only discovered that his infuriatingly pretty fellow camp counselor is a mermaid and the guardian of an ancient lake creature. He has also somehow managed to score said mer-dude as a boyfriend and been adopted into the lake creature's flock.  

“She never does that shit with Buckley,” he grouses, even though Steve’s words make something flutter in his chest. Steve's touch, also - hands on his hips, fins on his ankles. “She's part of the flock, too, isn't she?” 

“Yeah…” Steve blushes, a delicious pink hue on wet, sun-tanned skin. Eddie wants to lick that, too. “But Robin isn't my…” 

He trails off into an unintelligible mumble after that. Eddie wrinkles his brow. 

“Your what? Come again, fish boy, I didn’t-” 

“My mate,” Steve blurts, and the fins on his hips flutter excitedly under Eddie’s fingers. “Robin isn’t my mate.” 

Eddie feels his mouth drop open. The water is unpleasantly cold against his flushed skin. 

“Wait,” he says when he finally remembers how to form words again. “Hold on a second. When did that happen?” 

Steve’s face is still scarlet, but his lips start twitching when he meets Eddie’s eyes. “That’s just the way she sees it. You can’t expect her to think in human standards. Now c’mon, we gotta get to dinner or the kids will wonder where-” 

“Oh, no!” Eddie interrupts him, mouth tugging into a stupid, wide grin of his own. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You don’t get to tell me that we’ve been mer-mated for God knows how long and never officially consummated that sacred connection. I’m gonna get a mer-divorce if you don’t-” 

“Oh God, shut up,” Steve groans, and kisses him. 

As he gets dragged off to their favorite little shore, well out of sight from the camp grounds, Eddie bids a brief mental farewell to the toolbox lying abandoned at the ground of the lake. He’ll have to make up some story about where it went when Dustin asks him, but that's a problem for later. 

For now, he’s got other things to think about. 

More celebration ficlets

[13a07s]

My Home

(Keishin Ukai Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Honeyutopia]

Requested by: Nada

Word Count: 3,659

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Name Calling: Toots, Baby, Tootsie Roll, Bitch, Shit, Babe

Teasing Threats of Violence

Smacking

Hair Pulling

Blow Job

Head Pushing

———————————————————————

     The sound of shoes against the wooden stairs tips me off to Keishin's return. My eyes occasionally glance at our bedroom door, my focus on listening to him move around the apartment instead of the TV show I'm watching. His keys jingle as he hangs them by the door, his voice soft as he grumbles to himself. "Toots?"

     "In here!" I call, turning my focus back to the TV. My hands go back to focusing too, slowly continuing to crochet the blanket I've been working on. The box tucked into the corner of our closet is full. This last blanket will push it to overflowing. I'll have to ask Keishin to bring the box to the shelter when I'm done with this project.

The door squeaks as he pushes it up, my pretty boy leaning in the frame, his hands clinging to the top of it, and his arms stretched out as he leans forward. "There's my Toots. Let me show you my Roll."

"Pervert," I giggle, sparing him a glance and a head shake. "I'm not going to let you flash me."

"Aw, why not?" I can hear the grin in his voice almost as well as I can hear his footsteps across the room. "You know I love it when you stroke my, uh, ego." As I expected, Keishin's face is drenched in a smile even with his eyes drowning in exhaustion.

He kicks off his shoes, the sound of them and his bag hitting the floor promising another thing on my to-do list tomorrow. Keishin crawls into the bed, stretching out diagonally so his feet hang off but his head can rest in my lap, arms snug around my waist.

     My arms and project fall still underneath him, the ball of yarn and my crochet hook probably stabbing into his torso. "Rough day?" I murmur, tugging my hands out from under him. They settle on his back, gently massaging as my eyes trail over his t-shirt. They float across the white material like a boat in a foamy sea, enjoying the bright cloth and the way it hangs on his body. No longer an athlete but still the loose build of one. What a wonderful situation I get to enjoy.

"Not rough, just long. A bit stressful too," he answers, the words coming out jumbled because of his face buried in my lap. Keishin steadily starts to relax under my touch, the knots in his muscles starting to become more evident. "The farm was just a blur, then the store, and ya. Then the boys are all worked up about their practice match this weekend and I don't know. Hoping for the best, preparing for the worst, you know?"

"I know, Baby," I coo, focusing my attention on his shoulders. My thumbs dig into his muscles, starting the slow but needed job of working out his sores.

"I think I have a plan though."

"Oh, ya?"

     "Ya," Keishin sighs, rolling his shoulders to adjust to the new feel of them. "We're going to use Tsukishima - the tall one with glasses - as a sort of director, I guess."

     "How is he going to be a director?" I half listen to his explanation, cozying into the rhythm of his voice and the feel of my hands soaking in his body heat. Occasionally, I nod my head, hum, or throw out an "oh ya?"

     "But anyway, that's my plan. I don't know how well it's going to work, let alone how to explain it to the kids."

     "Do you want to practice?" I ask, my focus falling away from his back. Instead, I mess with the small silver hoops dangling from his ear, rotating them through his piercings. "If I can understand what you're trying to say I'm sure the boys will get it too."

"Really?" He mutters, lifting his head to peer up at me.

"Ya, Baby." My hand slides away from his ear, falling to rest against his face, my thumb rubbing his cheek.

     A soft smile settles on his lips, his head tipping to press into my hand some more. "You're the best, Toots."

     "Don't tell the others," I tease, leaning down to be closer to his face. "You'll dry up my street cred and then I'll have to beat you to get it back."

"Oh, I know. But I so love it when you beat me," Keishin teases right back, closing the gap between us with a kiss.

"Pervert," I grumble when we pull apart, rolling my eyes at him.

"You love it."

"Oh, do I?"

"Yes," he drags out the word, a mischievous smile crawling on his face. "You love it so much," he adds, gripping my waist tighter.

"Kei, what are you doing?" He doesn't answer me, softly chuckling instead. His hands loosen their hold, sliding down before sliding back up again, this time under my shirt. "Keishin? What are you doing?" I repeat, squirming to try and escape his hold. I already know it's too late, and so does he.

Keishin grabs me again, yanking me down so I'm lying on the bed instead of propped up against the headboard. I jerk around in his hold, trying to get free before I'm trapped underneath him. He eagerly fights back, quickly overpowering me and sandwiching me between himself and the mattress. "What now, Tootsie Roll? Hmm? Can't get free, can you?"

"I'm going to beat your behind when I get free, Keishin!" I declare, trying to push him off of me. He barely moves from my effort.

     "Oh, ya, Toots. You're doing such a good job at it. Maybe I should make it a little more difficult."

     "What does that mean? Baby, what are you scheming - "

     My questions are cut off by Keishin's fingertips dancing over my sides, my nerves spiraling and twirling in response. My body jerks from the sensation, giggles being ripped from my lungs as I try to escape his touch. "Oh, oh, oh. Someone isn't a big mouth off anymore is she?" He teases, plopping kisses against me anywhere he can. "What happened to that bad little bitch that was threatening me? Who was oh so worried about her street cred?"

     "She's still going to beat your ass!" I manage to push out despite my laughter. The mix of rough fingers toying with my sides and gentle lips against my body make for a weird but comfortable mix. It makes for a perfect example of how love-struck and wild Keishin is for me.

Soon, his fingers stop attacking me, wrapping around me instead. "God, Toots," he whispers, wrapping his arms tighter and pulling me close against him. Our bodies mold together, my back slightly arched from Keishin's attempt to pull me closer. His head buries into my neck, nuzzling against my throat as he takes slow and deep inhales. "You always smell good. Like my heaven. Like my home."

I giggle again, this time soft and gentle instead of the high-pitched, rapid laughs from my tickle attack. "Gosh, someone must have had a rough day if he's being all soft and gushy."

     "Do I have to have a long day to be 'soft and gushy' with my Toots?"

     "Yes."

     "Fuck you," Keishin barks around a mouthful of chuckles. One of his hands jumps up, balling up a fistful of hair and yanking my head to the side. "Do you not like me all soft, Tootsie Roll?"

     "I do," I mutter, drowning my eyes in the sight of my cocky husband. "Especially since you're only soft for me, you cocky little shit."

     "I'm the cocky shit? Says the lady that says I'm only soft for her, which is completely false by the way, Toots. My Roll is always hard for you." My hand swings up, smacking him upside the head. "Damn," Keishin chuckles, leaving his head dipped down to brush kisses against the front of my throat. "Guess I'm not getting any action tonight."

     "You got action this morning. Twice. Bed and shower. Besides, you have a play or strategy or whatever to practice going over."

Keishin knocks his head against my chest once, twice, three times before lifting it to face me again. "You're right, as always." His sentence is punctuated with a soft kiss on my lips. A sigh follows our kiss, my husband rolling off of me and letting me breathe freely again.

I situate myself, sitting up against the headboard again, as he leans over the bed to snatch his bag from the ground. Keishin straightens himself once he has his stuff, sitting crisscrossed in front of me. I watch curiously as he digs through his bag, pulling out a whiteboard and such. I know coaches do the whole whiteboard team meeting thing in movies but for some reason, I never thought it was something people did.

"The magnets are numbered with the boys' jerseys," he starts explaining, twenty or so magnets littering the bedspread alongside a pile of dry-erase markers. Keishin's forehead wrinkles as he focuses intensely on the board, doodling whatever it is he's drawing. "It's a practice match against Date Tech. Last year they caused us some trouble but our Ace - that's the top spiker by the way," he cuts himself off, looking up at me as he explains the terminology. "Did pretty good at getting through their defense, but Asuma graduated."

"Don't you have a new Ace though?"

"Ya, Tanaka. He's a good spiker and a good Ace too, but he can get a little hot-headed. Doesn't always think before he acts, especially when he's worked up. Ennoshita does pretty good at keeping him in line, most of the time anyway."

     "Well, that's good at least."

     Keishin hums in agreement, laying the whiteboard down between us. An outline of a volleyball court decorates the board in thin and thick lines. His eyes jump around the bed, glancing through the magnets before he lays them down. "The black ones are my boys, they're the ones numbered, and the white ones are the opposing team, okay?"

     "Okay."

"The good thing about Date Tech is two of their blockers from last year are still on the team so I have an idea of what we're working with. The bad thing is two of their blockers from last year are still on the team so they also have an idea of what to do," Keishin rambles, placing the magnets onto the board and moving them around how he wants them.

"Sounds like a rock and a hard place."

"Ya," he chuckles, the sound coming out stressed instead of happy. "I'm not that worried about our offense though. Hinata - the one you call an excited yorkie - has gotten better at adapting his spikes so that'll have to be a more in-the-moment plan."

     "That's good, Baby," I murmur, watching as he nervously clicks the pieces around the board, not a hundred percent certain of any of his placements.

     Keishin falls quiet for a few moments, messing with the magnets until he's soothed his worries. The board is propped up, aimed at me so I can see it better. "Alright, so, our defense sucks. Not as bad as last year but still not the best."

     "Got it," I murmur, nodding in agreement even though I wouldn't know that without Keishin telling me.

      "A lot of it falls on Tsukishima, a lot on Nishanoya too, but mostly Tsukishima in the front row." He taps on the piece labeled eight.

     "Hinata," number seven is tapped on as he keeps explaining the situation to me. "Is the worst on defense. Mostly because he can't receive for the life of him, but he just doesn't have the experience, so, per usual, when he gets to the back row, after he serves," Keishin rotates the pieces in a circle until number seven is in the middle of the back row. "I'll swap Hinata and Nishanoya out." Number seven is pushed out of the box and replaced by an orange magnet labeled four.

     "That makes sense," I tell him, nodding in agreement again. The situation does make sense, but number four being orange confused me a bit. Oh well, I guess. The colors of the magnets don't matter.

"For the first match at least, probably more, Tsukishima will be calling the blocking plays." Again, number eight is tapped on. "He has an eye for that sort of stuff and I'm hoping he'll help the others pick up on what he sees, you know? Give them an idea of what to look out for so they know how to react. Does that sound stupid?"

"It doesn't sound stupid, Baby."

"Okay," he whispers, mostly speaking to himself. "Anyway, so that's pretty much the plan. Having Tsukishima control the blocking until we get a feel and or until the other boys can figure it out for themselves. It's going to be a lot on him," Keishin mutters, laying the board back down between us.

     His eyebrows are pressed together, his forehead wrinkled from the act. All Keishin is made out of is nicotine, spite, and stress. Usually, I'm worried about his stress, but at the moment I find it more cute than worrisome. I adore how much he loves his players and how set he always is on giving them the best chance to win and improve.

     "I don't want to put too much pressure on the kid. He just picks up on these things the quickest so, it's the best to have everything set how he needs to test his theories and whatever, right?"

     "Right. Besides, worst case it doesn't work out and you fall back on what you know."

     "Ya, I guess so. I don't want to do that though. It'll leave us scrambling, you know?... I don't know. I don't want to stress Tsukishima out or put him under pressure but I just... I don't know." Keishin sighs, his hands dragging down his face. "I don't know what to do, Toots."

     "Oh, baby," I coo, leaning across the bed to wrap my arms around him. A hand settles over his shoulders, the other knotting into his hair, running through the locks he let loose on his drive home. "What have I told you about thinking things over?"

     "Once isn't enough, ten times is too many. Find my happy medium," he mutters, turning his head to brush kisses against my wrist.

"And how many times have you thought this issue over?"

"Ten... twenty... forty times, maybe. I don't want the first practice match of the season to be a bust, you know? That's terrible momentum to run on."

"I know, Baby, but the more you mull it over, the more holes you poke in your thoughts. Just talk to Tsukishima, okay? See how the kid feels about it. If he feels like he can handle it, go with your plan. If not, wing it. After all, my crows have always been good at adapting quickly."

Keishin arches forward, melting our bodies together again. His arms find their place around my waist, keeping me flesh against him. "My sweet Tootsie Roll," he murmurs, his head finding its place on my shoulder, nose pressed against my neck as close as possible. Same routine and position since the start of our relationship. "Always the perfect mix of sweet and tart when I need it. Always my home." He inhales the scent of my perfume and shampoo again, taking his time like always to savor the smell.

     I give him a little while, letting him drown himself in me, letting him calm his nervous down from his emotional escalation, letting him restart and re-stab his thoughts. "Alright," I finally murmur, moving in his arms. "Enough welling," I tell Keishin, pushing him off of me before pushing him onto his back.

He softly smiles at me, his hands rubbing my arms as I situate myself on top of him. "I can't help it, Toots. You know I worry about everything," Keishin whispers, adjusting himself to lay more comfortably on the mattress.

I hum a melody as I lean downward, laying my chest against his as I nuzzle my nose against his neck. "Maybe a little distraction will help?" I whisper, brushing light kisses against his skin.

"What kind of distraction are you thinking about?" Keishin mutters, his hands finding their way to cup my ass.

"I'm not too sure yet," I answer, making my way down his neck. I slowly trail further, curving over his shoulder and down his chest. His shirt is stained with my path, my lipstick standing out on the white t-shirt. "Maybe," I start, nuzzling the hem of his shirt with my nose as my hands busy themselves undoing his pants. "You just need some under-the-desk support."

"Damn, Toots. You know I'll never turn down an offer like that," Keishin grumbles, his hands sliding up to rest higher the more I inch down. My tongue slides over his skin, the tip teasingly poking under the band of his boxers. A groan ouches in the room from Keishin, his hands sliding over my back and between my shoulder blades before styling in my hair. “Toots. The teasing, Babe.”

“What about it?” I whisper, the peach fuzz of his happy trail tickling my lips. “I thought this is what you wanted. After all, you came in asking to use your dick,” I tease, my fingertips sliding against the plaid material of his boxers before settling on the imprint of his dick. I take hold of him, stroking his trapped erection as my tongue continues to trail back and forth under the elastic band.

Keishin’s fingers knot in my hair, holding it back from my face. His chest is raspy with his heavy breathing, growls, and grumbles mixed with the sound of his lungs. “Toots, come on. The teasing isn’t cool.” He yanks on my hair, forcing my head back and my eyes up. “Knock off the teasing. Either suck my dick or get on your knees so I can paint your tits.”

I roll my eyes at him, a smile hanging on my lips as I soak in the frustration on his face. “Fine, no more teasing.” His hold loosens on my hair but doesn’t let me go. Keishin’s deep brown eyes stay locked on me, watching as I inch his boxers down enough for his dick to escape.

My tongue wraps around his base, starting the collection of drool that’ll slide down and wet his balls. I tease the base for a tongue lashing or two before starting the slow slide up his length, mentally counting my way.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

“Baby, come on,” he hisses, his knuckles popping from gripping my hair so tight. My scalp stings from my roots being pulled on but I can’t seem to care much. I adore teasing Keishin to the point of desperation.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

My tongue slides over the tip of his dick, the taste of his pre-cum coating my taste buds. My hand wraps around him, slowly stroking the base as I twirl around and tease the head. Keishin is already squirming, his hips jerking and penis twitching. “Damn it, Toots. Knock off the teasing. Baby, you’re killing me,” he grumbles on repeat, his teeth clenched as he hisses at me.

“You’ll be okay,” I murmur, finally allowing part of him to slide between my lips.

Keishin’s tip settled in my mouth, a loud “Fuck” spilling out of him. I can’t help the prideful smile trying to curl the corners of my mouth. I puff my cheeks out, my tongue trailing the veins of his cock as I suck on him. “Jesus, Baby, come on,” he huffs, flexing his fingers before returning his death grip to my hair.

It’s driving him crazy. The teasing. The slow pace. The minimal attention. The restraint not to shove my head down and force his dick further in. Maybe I should be nice and give him a bit of what he wants.

I keep my movements slow as I slide down, his cock inching further and further. His tip taps the back of my throat, brewing a couch in my lungs. I don’t let it stop me though, continuing to slide down as my throat flexes to try and resolve the need to cough. “Fuck!” Keishin yelps, shoving my head down.

My lungs and throat scream with the need to cough up the block, a jumble of gagging and spit leaking from the corners of my lips. Keishin’s cum spilling over and dripping down my throat doesn’t help the situation. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Toots. I didn’t mean to,” he rambles, dropping his hold away from my head to toy with the ends of my hair.

I jerk my head up, back to sucking on the tip of his dick to encourage his cum to keep spilling down my throat. Apologizes ring from Keishin on repeat, his focus on trying to gently push me off himself and check on me instead of his dick twitching in my mouth.

When he finally dries up with nothing left to tant my tongue in salt, I pull off of him. My lungs scream with the feel of easy and fresh air coating them. “I’m sorry, Toots,” Keishin repeats, his hand cupping my face while his thumb brushing against my cheek. “I know you don’t like when I push your head. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s alright,” I whisper, trying to steady my breathing. My hand jumps to my neck, massaging it as I lean into his touch.

“No it’s not, Toots,” he softly says, tugging me to sit in his lap again. His hand joins mine against my neck, helping to rub away the soreness of it. “You’ve told me before you don’t like me pushing your head and I did it anyway. You’re my home, Baby. That’s not how a man takes care of his home.”

[futsuucmplx]

@justiceburst sent - ☄️ - what is their biggest regret?

Until post-game, there's really very little Hoshi will find herself truly regretting. Like most palace rulers, she thinks her actions are justified within the world she lives in, and even if she aches over some of her deeds or lack there of, that pain then fuels her to pursue the game even more to just not think about it.

But oh what isn't there to regret when that game fails. Her heart is changed, so it's hard to say what she regrets the most when she regrets everything. However, if you asked her, it'd probably be not reaching out to her mother when she was in so much pain. It left a scar in their relationship for sure, as after her heart is changed, there's no way she couldn't come clean to her mother, which... hoo boy, that was a long talk that inevitably had to involve the thieves. But it isn't even just about Yaldy, of course. Her mothers reaction to Hoshi admitting to being abused by her manager was nothing like she expected, though that also has to do with the fact that her mother had to immediately reckon with the fact her daughter held that from her for YEARS. Seeing how much that hurt her mom made Hoshi regret ever thinking she wouldn't be supported if she told her. They love each other, and the scar on their relationship happens BECAUSE they love each other, but that is absolutely Hoshi's biggest regret.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Congratulations Mimi on your 700 followers 🥳🥳🥳🥳!!! THAT IS AMAZING!

For your prompts, would either of these spark your fancy?

"I've always dreamed of watching a sunset like this." For Cody!

And/or

"Where will you go now that the war is over?" For Wolffe!

💙

Ahhh my lovely! Thank you so much @ulchabhangorm for submitting such awesome requests.

I apologize for the delay, my keyboard decided to die on me yesterday, so I had to wait for the delivery today. I hope you love these two stories for you. I'll be posting them separately.

I hope you love them.

Love oo,

Sunset

Warning: sand, annoyance, friendly banter, slight flirting, guilt, seeking forgiveness, rumours, slight touching, voyeur, I think that's all the warnings. If I miss any please let me know.

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Whether it was the heat, the sand, or maybe it was the aches from old wounds you suffered throughout your less than glorious career as a salvager, but everything in your body was screaming at you to stop and making walking that much harder. Your feet felt as though they were being dragged through sand. You stopped walking and looked down at the sand surrounding your feet. Right. You were walking through sand, it felt like you’d been walking through it for a millennia, and you’d be beyond happy if you never see another rock, bramble, or desert, beach, anything containing sand for a long long time. 

God, how could there be so much sand, you shifted your clothes, feeling the little grains in between your clothes. 

“Don’t fall behind.”

You glanced up to look at Cody, glaring at your relatively new companion, “Does it look like I’m falling behind?” You asked exhausted, annoyed, and at the end of your tether.

“Yes. Hence why I said, don’t fall behind.” He chuckled as he started walking again, shaking his head. When he went awol from the Empire, the last thing he ever expected was to be found floating adrift, in the ship he had absconded with; and regardless of how much effort he put into fixing the derelict spacecraft nothing helped. The hyperdrive was damaged beyond repair, and if it hadn’t been for you showing up, trying to salvage what you could, he would’ve been dead now. For that alone he would be eternally grateful.

A sigh escaped your lips as you kept trudging behind him, “You know the only reason I’m here is because you owe me for saving your life, and you said you needed to find your friend, and once you found your friend you’d be able to pay me back. However, in all that fancy talk, not once did you mention anything about trudging through this gods-forsaken wasteland of a planet. Which is not my idea of you paying me back.”

He let out a laugh, as he stopped and turned to look at you, “Cyar’ika, you know I’m good for it. I promise, I will pay you back, and I will even try and help you find your brother.”

You let out another sigh of resignation, “Fine, whatever. I’ll choose to believe in you.”

“There’s the spirit.”

“Who are you looking for anyway? I mean I know you said a friend, but if your friend is all the way out in the recesses of human cohabitation maybe they don’t want to be found. Ever thought of that?”

Cody just hummed. Truth was that ever since he heard the rumour that Obi-wan might be alive, all he wanted, no, all he needed was to find out if that was true. He needed to know he hadn’t killed his General, the man he looked up to, the man who … opened his eyes to a world he never expected. 

“I have cyar’ika and honestly …” he stood on the ridge of the dune, the Jundland Wastes of Tatooine laying there before him, “it scares me to know that he might not want to see me. Things … didn’t end well between us, the last time we saw each other.”

You stood beside him as you looked out at the wasteland, “What happened?”

“I tried to kill him.”

Silence filled the air between the both of you, shock and surprise radiating off you, “Oh.”

“I wasn’t in my right mind … doesn’t excuse what I did, regardless.”

“So you’re … hoping for what? Forgiveness?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just hoping that we can eventually make it back to just being friends. He was like a brother to me. Clones take brotherhood very seriously, and I betrayed his trust.”

“But you said you weren’t in your right mind.”

“Doesn’t change the fact I gave the order to fire.”

Your eyes took in Cody’s countenance, he looked apprehensive, his hands were balled into fists, his shoulder was squared off, everything about him screamed he was either getting ready to fight or he was scared. You slowly reached over and held his hand, moving his fingers away from the tightened fist. 

He glanced down as he felt your fingers loosening his, he couldn’t help smile as his eyes slowly met yours. It was a simple gesture, and that meant more to him than anything he’d ever experienced before. 

“If he is as good a friend as you say he was, and he viewed you as a brother too, it might take some time, but I’m sure he’ll forgive you eventually.”

“I hope you’re right, cyar’ika.”

You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your lips, “You will have to tell me what that means eventually.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Mmm, yeah, you do. Especially if you want to keep flying in my ship,” you laughed, your smile slowly fading. “Is that why you didn’t want to fly the ship out here, afraid he’d hear the engines and go into hiding?”

“Yeah.”

You gave a slight nod in understanding, at least you were able to leave your ship with someone you trusted. If only your speeders actually lasted for the whole trip, your legs wouldn’t have been feeling like they were about to fall off. 

“What do you think? Camp for the night here, and then make our way into the labyrinth of the Jundland Wastes? Or should we just try and see what we can find before night falls?”

“No, let’s camp …” he pulled out his binocs and searched the area, he pointed to an elevated rock face, the ridge line looked flat enough, “that should work, and provide us with an unobstructed view.”

“Alright,” you nodded, “lead on.” You adjusted your pack, pulling your hand away from his, following him to the campsite.

It wasn’t long before you both had set up your camp, you were finishing up the stew you were making for dinner, when your eyes fell on Cody, sitting on the edge of the cliff, his feet dangling over the edge. You passed him a bowl as you sat beside him, “What are you thinking?”

Cody smiled as he looked at you, he reached up and gently wiped away some dust and dirt from your hike, “I’ve always dreamed of watching a sunset like this, but I never thought it would’ve been possible.” He focused back on the twin setting suns, “It’s beautiful.”

Your eyes simply focused on his face, and the smile he had on his lips, your heart clenched in your chest, your breath quickened, as you watched him enjoy his freedom, feeling so much in that moment. “Yeah, it is.” You whispered, focusing back on your stew, as you both sat in silence eating your dinner, as your knees touched.

Obi-wan watched the two of you from a distance, his thumb and forefinger stroking his beard. A small smile on his lips as he saw his Commander, his friend, his brother-in-arms, happy and not alone.

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[bloodscribed]

INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY.

a set of prompts featuring lyrics from the album of the same name by waterparks. may contain suggestive content. feel free to change things as needed for the sake of writing!

ST*RFUCKER

"I'm gonna move out of my loft and into a limousine."

"Jesus Christ won't text me back."

"I'll always be around, in fact."

"I'm climbing up your window now."

"It's been a pleasure, it's nice to meet you."

"Maybe I'm a soul-sucker."

"But you're just a star fucker."

"I bet you wouldn't ask me to do that by this time next year."

"You can't hide my face and save me for a rainy day."

"It don't go two ways."

"I don't wanna be toxic, I just wanna be honest."

"But this shit hurts like a comet."

"And it just hurts 'cause I want it."

REAL SUPER DARK

"I'm outta my cage, and I'm on the stage."

"I'm dying to give you a show."

"I'm alienated, way overrated."

"Here are a few of the notes."

"My fans are the best."

"They'd love me more dead."

"But baby, it's gettin' too loud."

"Yo, shut the fuck out of your mouth."

"Bite tongue 'till there's blood in my mouth."

"It freaks me out."

"It gets real super dark around the edge of my heart."

FUNERAL GREY

"Now I'm tripping off the deep end."

"So call me a Lyft or a black hearse."

"I know you'll make my head spin."

"What's your favorite color?"

"That's not a color, it's a shade."

"Don't disagree with me."

"And then she walked away."

"I didn't get her name."

"I can't explain the look on her face."

"She wore a sweater in summer weather."

"It was funeral grey."

"And now it's killing me."

"I just want you to be my next mistake that I'm gonna make."

"She walked in, took a hit."

"That shit is gonna kill you."

"Well now you're gonna die too."

"I said that you can call me, beep me if you want my skin."

"She rolled her eyes."

"I know your dying wish is to be baptized in my spit."

"Float my way, I'm melting for you."

BRAINWASHED

"What's up?"

"Hello, I'm tryna meet ya."

"Shocked at the words coming from my tongue."

"A language that I'm not familiar."

"Don't take it away."

'I wanna play."

"Where did the time fly?"

"What if I pray?"

"Hoping you'll stay into the daylight."

"Wait, what am I saying?"

"I feel insane."

"It's only been a couple days."

"I'm having the same thoughts, can't stop."

"Thinking you got me brainwashed."

"I'm see-through, need you."

"Why do I think you're so cool?"

"Everything's clean except for my thoughts."

"Thinking about me getting you off."

"It's been a week, I'm still at your house."

"I don't wanna leave, it's freaking me out."

"Why am I acting like that?"

"Are you really that funny, or am I hallucinating?"

"It's like my brain isn't mine."

"This syndrome feels Stockholm."

"Do you wanna keep me on lock, though?"

"Symmetrical feelings match best when we're staring at the ceiling."

2 BEST FRIENDS

"I'm trying to turn my mind off."

"But I don't know where to go when the night's long."

"I could have picked your body in a lineup."

"Now I'm sick of waiting on you to call."

"Yeah, I'm sick of playing it cool."

"So I went out with my two best friends."

"Tried anything not to think of you."

"It didn't work, and I feel like shit."

"Wake up tomorrow and try again."

"You hit back with the syntax."

"You treated my heart like a handbag."

"So now I'm solo when the night's cold."

"Yeah, I kissed a couple people, but they taste wrong."

END OF THE WATER (FEEL)

"If you feel it, then I feel it too."

"If you believe me, I could be your truth."

"If you need me, all I need is you."

"Why we ghost each other for a week at a time?"

"Make plans and let 'em fall through."

"I can't even call you, let alone call you mine."

"I can be nonchalant, if that's what you really want."

"But I'm just glad you and I are alive at the same time."

"We can't take back what we never gave."

"And that distance keeps us safe."

"But nobody told me that safe is so lonely."

"Can't we act like you and I are alive at the same time?"

"Do you feel it? 'Cause I feel it too."

"Do you need it? 'Cause I need it too."

SELF-SABOTAGE

"When we talk, I'm never wrong."

"Might unplug my phone at night."

"When you need me most, I'll miss that flight."

"Now we're at the part where you'll hate what you see."

"What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"I'm on my way to you, but I'll self-sabotage."

"So I might drive my car and crash into your garage."

"To get away from you, I'll self-sabotage."

"If you like when we talk, I'll dislocate my jaw."

"I'll piss you off and ask what's wrong."

"I want this to work so bad."

"But I want but I can't have."

"Make plans and break them to see what you say."

"'Cause you put on makeup and I'm still in bed."

RITUAL

"Gotta clear my front lawn off."

"Melatonin, eyes feel heavy tonight."

"I could sleep for weeks."

"Don't look for me."

"They're killing me when I'm fast asleep."

"Are you hearing me?"

"I'm living fucking betrayed."

"Living like I'm dead and on my own."

FUCK ABOUT IT

"I like you but I need some space."

"I like you kinda far away."

"It's not that hard to kill a day looking at your face."

"I like you but I need some room."

"It doesn't always stay that way."

"I hate the aftertaste."

"I don't wanna leave you hangin' on."

"But when we fight, it's like a marathon."

"Give me three days alone."

"We can fuck about it later, if you want."

"It's all we really do when something's wrong."

"You don't seem to like it when we talk."

"I guess I'll see you later."

"Because we never fix the problems that we've got."

"You've been at my crib for like the seventh day up in a row."

"You've been doing silly things like checking who I follow."

"I won't lie to you."

"It's like scars on my wrist."

CLOSER

"Nothing stays the same."

"I feel love a different way."

"I got my space, but what did I pay for you?"

"'Cause I love you, or I want to."

"But I don't know how."

"I need to really feel you."

"But we're running around."

"Is it easy now?"

"You only hit me in the evening."

"I need you closer."

"I need it over."

"There's nothing left to let go."

"It's the darkest afterglow."

"Maybe in another life, we can try and get us right."

"You're the holiday I celebrate too late."

"You're the eyes I gave up trying to captivate."

"You're the song I loved but then overplayed."

"I'm the b-side throwaway."

"I hope you never rain on my charade."

"I've been fucked so much that I no longer wait."

"I sabotage and break my own heart just in case."

"Will it kill me in the evening that I let you down?"

NIGHT OUT ON EARTH

"Am I missing out?"

"Am I having fun?"

"Is it just me, or is it everyone?"

"The love I get is virtual."

"Now Jesus hates my guts."

"It's getting personal."

"It's a night out on earth."

"The last one for a while, can't get worse."

"Now if I ever feel jealous, I just turn it into lyrics."

"I turn pain into rain and sing along."

"I wear all my red flags like a cape."

"Life gave me lemons, now I bleed lemonade."

"It gets so fucking hot under all this shade."

"Everywhere I walk's a toxic parade."

"The glove don't fit, but I wear it anyway."

"It's a hell of a time."

"Was I loved, or was I right?"

"Am I gonna go to hell in my sleep?"

"Or will God forgive me?"

"I gotta hide everybody that I like."

"Because everyone I know knows another me."

"It's getting hard to keep track of everything I keep locked behind my back."

"I'm leaving when the night goes."

"I ain't gonna let go."

SNEAKING OUT OF HEAVEN

"When we fuck, it feels like I'm struck by your lightning."

"They say I'm brainwashed, yeah I might be."

"I built a secret room for you."

"Just one more chance to adore you."

"If you're toxic, I'll wear a hazmat."

"Do you think God knows?"

"You've been sneaking out of heaven."

"Were his eyes closed?"

"There's no way He's just letting you fall from the stars."

"I swear to God my heart's gonna pop."

"If I'm not brainwashed, man, I'm trying to be."

"Swallow my shoes and my car keys."

"I don't need those, 'cause I won't leave."

"I'll have to jump the gates when I die."

"Go to my place, and you put away your halo."

[hlficlibrary]

Hello, I love the blog. I've found many fanfics that I loved because of it. I have two things to say: one is a question and the other is a recommendation. The question is: do you accept fanfic recommendations? Sometimes I read some wonderful ones that were posted a while ago and that I've never seen anyone talk about before and I'd like you to I wish more people knew about them because they are so good. The recommendation request: could you recommend any angsty fanfics with a sad past? Something with found family but not necessarily like it usually is with a focus on other characters beyond H and L Like it could be like that if it doesn't have one but I would love one that didn't focus so much on the other characters. I I don't usually like angst fanfics but I want to read something really sad with a traumatized character (I don't have a problem with any triggers). Thank you in advance!

Hi, anon! You're very welcome! To answer your first question, yes, if you'd like to recommend a fic, you can definitely do that! If you want to just send in an ask with the fic you're recommending, I'll post the ask with a link to the fic along with the summary. As to the second question, here are some fics that fit what I think you're looking for...

Pour Your Heart Out by @hrrytomlinson

Louis is his soulmate. Or at least Harry thinks he is. Louis feels the same as Louis. But there are a lot of people named Louis in the world and this Louis might not be the Louis. It’s besides the point though, because Harry knows he can’t allow himself to get close to any boys. He just can’t and he’s told himself this multiple times. He has to simply stay away from Louis Tomlinson. But he can’t. Harry Styles can never stay away from Louis Tomlinson. It’s physically impossible for him to.

and so I have to say (before I go) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

Sometimes falling in love is taking a leap of faith, jumping into the unknown with your eyes closed, hoping someone will be there to catch you.

Sometimes falling in love is seeing the person in front of you, all their flaws and imperfections, and taking that leap nonetheless.

Sometimes it's both.

In Louis' and Harry's case, it's both.

This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

//an X-Men AU.

Train Tracks and Porcelain by @jaerie

At the first hint of light, Louis was slowly brought back to consciousness by the growing swell of activity around him. It started in the distance with loud clanks and clatters and rose with the hollers of men and thudding of boots against the solid earth. He listened as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tried to place any sounds he was familiar with. It took him too long to remember that he wasn’t back in his rented room. The energy was what floated to him next, a buzz that made him peek through the leaves to see what was going on.

The next moments happened in the strange slow motion of dawn. Shadows were forming into people and things and, there in the middle of it, Louis watched the humongous head of an elephant emerge from a box car right in front of his eyes.

Or a Water For Elephants inspired AU

ETA: Here are some more mini angst recs to check through!

✤ Angst / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

✤ Angst under 20k

✤ Angst with a Happy Ending

[epic-kotlc-crossover]

Luck Runs Out

This is the second chapter in the Ocean saga!! We both enjoyed writing this so hope you enjoy reading it!!

tags (as to be added or removed): @myfairkatiecat @sombrathedragon @bookwormgirl123 @thesfromhms @ham-cheese-toastie

@justalunaticfangirl

“Please don’t tell me you're about to do what I think you’re about to do,” Keefe said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Brother, you’ve heard the legends of the island in the sky. This proves they’re true!” Fitz replied. “This must be the home of the wind god.”

“But Captain, we don’t know that for sure.”

“How many floating islands have you seen before?” Fitz teased.

“Fine. What’s your plan?” Keefe asked skeptically.

“I’m going to climb to the top and ask him for a hand.”

“But…. what if you’re caught off guard and fall? You could lose your life, or worse! You could make him angry and delay our journey even more! Please don’t forget how dangerous the gods are,” Keefe begged. Fitz sighed, and Keefe could feel little waves of annoyance coming from his direction. Along with….was that–? Nope. Stopping that thought right there. 

“Have a little faith in me, friend. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

“Well, yes. But what happens when our luck runs out? What will we do when your wit kills us?” 

“I still believe that we could be kinder.” Keefe recognized the sadness in his tone. Fitz must be thinking of Dex. “We should lead from the heart, and see what that does before we use violence.”

“And what will we do when that tears us apart?” Keefe challenged.

Yes, wondering if anything they did would result in death was a bit morbid, but after Dex, everything suddenly seemed more real. No one from their fleet had died in the war, and Keefe almost got comfortable with that guaranteed safety.

Keefe couldn't make that mistake again. Not with the tiny needles of guilt that he could feel coming from Fitz whenever there was a moment of silence in their conversation.

"Where is this coming from, my friend?" Fitz asked gently.

"I don't want to see another life end, Fitz." Keefe's voice broke. "You're like the friend I could never do without."

Fitz smiled slightly, and put his hand on Keefe's shoulder, the touch electrifying. "And suddenly you doubt we can figure this out?"

How much longer until you can't, though? Keefe thought. He didn't want to explain his worries. Use your telepath powers and figure it out!

Breathing out, he took two steps back, shaking Fitz off. "How much longer until your luck runs out? How much longer until we all fall down?"

He gestured at the rest of the crew. "I can't lose them, too. If you keep relying on your wit and telepathy, how many more people will die?"

Fitz's eyes shuttered in, the brief flash of hurt covered by a small grin. It didn't cover the hurt coming off him in waves, though, and Keefe tried not to feel guilty.

"Thank you for your concern, Keefe, but I assure you that we're almost home." A full smile—but still fake, Keefe noticed—appeared and he pointed into the distant water. "I understand that you're tired. I understand that we're fazed. But remember, I took six hundred men to war and not one of them died there."

Except for the seven that did the minute we tried to go home, he thought bitterly.

Fitz stared at him, clearly trying to meet his eye. Keefe refused, knowing he'd fold immediately if he did.

I can't let you keep planting seeds of doubt. Keefe flinched. hands coming to rest on his head. He hated when Fitz would transmit with no warning.

I can't have you disagree on each route. Fitz paused and lifted Keefe's chin up. Piercing teal eyes seemed to beg him to agree. If we don't present a unified front the crew will grow distrustful.

Please?

Keefe sighed. "Fine," he told him. "I'll try."

Fitz brightened and clapped his back, pulling him into a side hug. "Thank you."

Keefe couldn't stop the needling worry that something bad was going to happen. That Fitz would run out of luck or run out of the gods' favor.

He hoped he was wrong.

[tomurasmoleunderhislip]

POV: You woke up with him in your arms:

Also ignore some grammar mistakes I wrote this half awake/half asleep.

You always wanted to shift and meet your comfort characher but it is pretty hard to shift since you get distracted easily.

All you wanted to be is with him at least once, you just wanted to hug him so bad and never let go, to just lay next to him whole day, to hold and kiss his whole face and tell him how much you love him and care about him, to tell him how much comfort and happiness he brings you, to play with his hair while you two snuggle and slowly fall asleep together.

One day you came back home from school/work so dead tired that you couldn't even eat or drink something before sleep, all you wanted to do is lay on your bed and rest. It was really long and tiring day you just changed into your old clothes and threw yourself on bed.

Your headache got worse since you don't drink enough of water and don't eat much, not only that but you also have problems with sleeping. Too tired to think about how much work is waiting for you next day. You just felt like crying but you couldn't cry, and all you wanted was to have proper rest.

You adjusted your pillow and covered yourself with blankets. "I'll just sleep through this headache, it will be gone when I wake up." You thought.

Turning the lamp off and closing your eyes finally, slowly drifting away. It all went black, it's pure silence and darkness. You felt like your head was spinning or more like you felt like your body is floating/falling.

It was a weird but kinda relaxing feeling, you didn't know what it was exactly. Maybe you are about to dream. Chills going through your whole body suddenly.

Slowly you were opening your eyes, your eyesight was pretty blurry at first but you saw some weird light? Did you just woke up in different room..?

Also you felt like something is on your chest, actually on your whole body..wait...is your comfort characher laying on you right now? " Is this real? Or is it just a dream..?" You thought. "But it feels way too real to be a dream."

You looked calm, but you were panicking and literally screaming in your mind. Looking down at him again to check if it's really Tomura, and it is. "I don't remember trying to shift last night did I just shifted without trying?"

"Did I just accidentally shift?" Your mind was racing with so much thoughts but it all stopped when he slightly moved. You didn't want to wake him up he looked so adorable while sleeping.

It felt really nice, he was laying his head on your chest and hugging you.

You could feel his breathing and heart beat. This was really peaceful and comforting moment, you exactly needed this, just this. Slowly moving your hand to gently touch his fluffy blue hair, your heart was racing you always wanted to know how it would feel like to touch and play with his hair.

His hair felt so soft to touch, you started to gently play with his hair and slowly running your fingers through it. He responded with soft "hmm?" and looked at you directly in eyes.

"he has such beautiful crimson eyes.. I can stare at them forever" you thought. Realizing he's awake now and you two are making literal eye contact right now, you said "sorry I didn't wanted to wake you up, you can go back to sleep." He replied with "it's fine, you don't have to apologize...It felt really nice though can you continue?" and he layed his head again on your chest, gently holding your hand with his gloved one and leading it to his hair.

You smiled softly and said "of course" continuing to play with his hair, and massage his head. He wrapped his hands around your waist while he was drifting back to sleep.

After a while you felt tired as well, before you fell asleep you got closer to his head and kissed his forehead.

Saying "I love you" and leaning back again, finally falling asleep...

-"I love you too" he whispered while smiling tiredly "I hope we'll see eachother again like this."

And you two fell asleep, together, in eachothers arms <3

" Sweet dreams my love "