#queue the stars beyond the blue

[dailyfigures]

processed requests ☆

an alphabetical list of the requests i've received and added to the queue. this saves me the time of having to answer every request one by one, and allows you to see what has already been requested!

has been posted ;

☆ arknights ; lappland

☆ banana fish

☆ b project

☆ brand new animal

☆ my hero academia ; fatgum

☆ my little pony bishoujo line

☆ nakano miku fallen angel figure

☆ nichijou ; minakami mai

☆ precure

☆ princess tutu

☆ project sekai

☆ stone ocean ; jolyne

☆ tekken

☆ toilet bound hanako kun

☆ tokyo mew mew

is in the queue ;

☆ .hack

☆ 22/7

☆ 86 -eightysix-

☆ a3!

☆ akira

☆ amnesia

☆ a place further than the universe

☆ arknights ; muelsyse

☆ astra lost in space

☆ atelier series

☆ attack on titan ; levi

☆ azumanga daioh

☆ bandori

☆ belle

☆ black butler

☆ black rock shooter

☆ bloodborne

☆ blue exorcist

☆ blue reflection

☆ call of the night

☆ canaan

☆ card captor sakura

☆ case closed

☆ castlevania

☆ chainsaw man ; denji

☆ di gi charat

☆ dorohedoro

☆ dragon ball ; launch

☆ dragon quest

☆ dragon themed figures

☆ durarara!!

☆ enstars

☆ eureka 7

☆ evangelion ; asuka

☆ fairy tail

☆ final fantasy

☆ fire emblem

☆ frieren: beyond journey's end

☆ genshin impact

☆ girls last tour

☆ guilty crown

☆ heaven burns red

☆ hello kitty to issho!

☆ helltaker

☆ high card

☆ hololive

☆ how heavy are the dumbbells you lift?

☆ humanity has declined

☆ hypnosis mic

☆ idol figures

☆ idolish7

☆ the idolm@ster

☆ ike musume

☆ in/spectre

☆ inuyasha

☆ is the order a rabbit?

☆ izetta the last witch

☆ kageki shoujo

☆ katamari damacy

☆ kill la kill

☆ kingdom hearts

☆ kirby

☆ k-on!

☆ konosuba

☆ kyoto animation

☆ last exile

☆ league of legends

☆ legend of heroes

☆ love live

☆ lucky star

☆ lupin iii

☆ lycoris recoil

☆ madoka magica

☆ megaman x

☆ mo dao zu shi

☆ my hero academia ; deku & fatgum

☆ nier automata

☆ no.6

☆ original characters

☆ oshi no ko

☆ ouran high school host club

☆ pokemon

☆ psycho pass

☆ slayers

☆ sonic the hedgehog

☆ squid girl

☆ tokyo ghoul

☆ sss gridman

☆ summer wars

☆ terror in resonance

☆ the world god only knows

☆ touhou project

☆ ultraman

☆ undertale

☆ vocaloid

☆ yuezheng ling

has no figures to post (keeping my eye out for future releases) ;

☆ bludgeoning angel dokuro chan

☆ d4dj

☆ ergo proxy

☆ kaiba (2008)

☆ kaiji

☆ shy

☆ the arcana

☆ the disastrous life of saiki k

☆ vocaloid ; fukase

☆ yona of the dawn

☆ ys viii

[villainsimpqueen]

QUEENS FANCLAN LORE: IVONYOK (Cave navi) update 2.0

This is my Cave Na'vi: Ivonyok lore

---

Physical Features

Body Structure

- Two arms, two legs, two queues, and two long tails with a bulby end.

- Four ears arranged in a butterfly shape (two top ears and two bottom ears).

Vision and Perception

- Primarily blind, seeing no further than five to ten feet.

- Rely on echolocation, producing clicking noises with their tongues.

- Use sensors on their tails to pick up vibrations, allowing them to navigate.

Hearing

- Acute hearing, capable of detecting faint sounds through cave systems.

Appearance and Clothing

- Mostly nude due to lack of visible sexual organs, protected by extra skin.

- Dark blue or purple skin with bioluminescent markings providing light in dark caverns.

- May wear sacred silks for specific occasions.

---(Made by @nin3kyuu)

Social Bonds

Platonic Mate Bond

- Formed at a young age (typically 14-18), fulfilling companionship, friendship, emotional, and sometimes sexual needs.

- Children of a deceased platonic mate are adopted by the living mate.

Mate Bond

- Equivalent to marriage, a lifelong partnership where mates court each other with crystals.

- Mates form deep emotional and spiritual connections beyond platonic bonds.

- Beauty is judged by actions and personality rather than appearance.

--- (Made by @nin3kyuu)

Beliefs and Spirituality

Ewya's Heart

- The Ivonyok believe cave systems are the heart of Ewya, where all Na'vi souls originate before reincarnating into other clans.

Origins of Other Na'vi Clans

1. Current Swimmers (Ocean/Reef Na'vi)

- Originated from Ivonyok who swam in tidal pools and were swept into the ocean.

- Ewya transformed them, giving them thicker tails, fins, and larger lungs for swimming.

- Fused queues became fish-like tails for protection, populating reefs, islands, and coastal regions, some adapting to rivers and marshlands.

2. Sun Chasers (Forest Na'vi)

- Originated from Ivonyok who were entranced by sunlight in a cavern, chasing it to the surface and becoming forest dwellers.

- Adapted to life in the lush surface forests.

3. Sky Climbers (Mountain Na'vi/ Myuks'kuvun @nin3kyuu )

- Originated from Ivonyok who competitively climbed cave walls, eventually reaching the surface and settling in high mountains.

- Some adapted to volcanic regions, becoming Mountain Na'vi.

4. Sand Dancers (Desert Na'vi/Barren Lands @villainsimpqueen (me) )

- Originated from Ivonyok caught in a sandstorm, adapting to desert life by moving with the storm's rhythms and becoming desert dwellers.

5. Night Seers (Night Na'vi @choclodox )

- Originated from Ivonyok who discovered the night sky through caverns.

- Followed star maps and rode flying beasts, becoming nocturnal and chasing the stars' wisdom.

6. Ash Breathers (Outcasts)

- Na'vi banished from all clans, inhabiting harsh volcanic canyon regions as punishment for betrayal.

Reincarnation

- Souls begin in the Ivonyok clan, reincarnating into new clans to learn their ways.

- Ghost Walkers/ Spiritsyu are those reborn into the Ivonyok to achieve peace after a sudden death.

---

Clan Structure

Tsahík

- Spiritual leader, healer, and practitioner of sacred rituals, including body alterations and sex changes (allowed only after childbirth).

Olo'eyktan

- Leader responsible for clan welfare, protection, and guidance.

- Titles of Tsahík and Olo'eyktan are passed to chosen heirs, often the leader’s children or close relatives.

Weavers

- Create sacred silk clothing for rituals.

Gatherers

- Collect food and ingredients for various purposes.

Brewers/Trancers

- Craft alcoholic beverages, holding a high status for quality products.

---

Important Animals

Archulugans

- Giant spider-like creatures with wings, their silk used for weaving.

KaliWayans

- Large, transparent, bioluminescent scorpions living in thermal vents.

Pafnemipa

- Blind weasel-like moles, friendly and used as mounts or spirit siblings, forming lifelong bonds.

Toruktsyìp

- Glow worms providing natural light, kept in dens for illumination.

---

Ecosystems

Tidal Pools

- Sources of clean water and relaxation.

Mushroom Forests

- Filled with various mushrooms used for food and other purposes.

Root Forests

- Used for funerals, where the dead fuel surface plant life.

- Spiritual connection points with Ewya.

Thermal Vents

- Hot areas for sauna-like rituals, used to ferment drinks and treat fevers.

---

Living Arrangements

Dens

- Ivonyok form dens using their queues, where they live and raise children.

- Offspring pods are suspended from ceilings and provided nutrients until they hatch.

- Below the pods, water-filled stone bowls catch the hatching offspring, who swim and call out for their parents.

---

Way of Life

Peaceful Living

- Ivonyok lead peaceful lives, indulging in pleasures like alcoholic beverages and hallucinogenic snacks, while maintaining a balance to avoid overindulgence.

- Emphasize spirituality, strong social bonds, and respect for each other’s sensory perceptions.

- Do not sexualize the body, value actions and behavior over physical appearance, and cherish deep emotional connections.

---

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY LORE!

PLEASE ASK ME IF YOU WANT TO USE ANY OF MY IDEAS OR MAKE OCS ON MY FANCLANS AND LORE.

MINORS AND AGELESS ACCOUNTS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY PAGES!

[i-turn-characters-2-warrior-cats]

Bill Cipher evil medicine cat au?

I just thought of this and thought it would be really interesting

Sure!

Dumroll please......

WC Bill Cipher is the third (The first is technically Lightwalk and the second is technically Rainsoul, but I hadn't developed the idea enough) cat I will release in relation to the Pantheon! (A group of deities that exist in all the works here, used as influences/monsters if I need them).

The Pantheon is all represented by a different animal! Lightwalk, the crow. Rainsoul, the vulture. WC Bill Cipher, Goldengleam, the coyote. (And his brother is represented by a rabbit, but we won't be getting into that yet.)

Goldengleam takes on a multitude of names, but relies on this one as the name we all know and love (to hate). He, like most of the Pantheon, can shapeshift! He keeps the form of a cat, but does show off his coyote form from time to time.

I imagine Goldengleam is known as a very eccentric member of the Pantheon, being a tad sillier and more kit friendly than his brother (If you can figure it out I'll skip the queue and do his brother before any other requests I'm writing. I'll give you a hint, his brother is the WC version of who is basically him but without Disney to reel in the age rating.)

Since I don't really want to develop much of WC Gravity Falls plot beyond what I've revealed since we only have our main antagonist as of writing this, I'll do a bit about if he preferred medicine to talking to other cats, and then I'll leave you off with a story!

Goldengleam, if he acted as a medicine cat, or a healer for the society of Gravity, he would rely much more on poisons than talking other cats into doing his dirty work (Which I bet he relied on for much of Shooting Stars are just Meteors). Slipping a bit over here, oh no you're sick! How terrible!

And for the story.... (Inspired by parables in the bible)

Once upon a time, when the great beasts roamed the forest, an elk insulted a bear. The bear became angry, and challenged the elk to a fight, killing and eating the elk.

A coyote had something rude to say about this. "Well, that wasn't very polite. You've already eaten for leaf-bare, why take more?"

And the bear went, "Why, the elk was even ruder! He needed to be taught a lesson."

The coyote replied, "I'm quite sure the elk learned his lesson from your stomach." The bear found this offensive, and challenged the coyote to a duel. The coyote agreed to meet at sunhigh the next day, and both of them went to their dens.

The bear went to sleep immediately, but the coyote looked to the stars. "Hello? Stars? Please give me assistance. I am a coyote, I can not beat a bear, but I was right. Give me help, please."

And then the stars answered, with a cat, who said. "Hello, coyote. Go to the den of the bear, and begin piling sticks. If I do not deliver by dawn, you can call me whatever name you wish."

The coyote, not one to disobey an obvious answer from the stars, followed the commands of the cat, wondering why the stars did not send a spirit in the form of another coyote. Time passed, and it was nearly dawn, when the bear would wake up.

Once again, another spirit appeared behind him. It was another coyote, but a bright gold color instead of the light blue of the stars. It smiled, winked, and began to emit a terrifying force.

It was fire. The coyote watched in joy as the bear ran out from the den that was now on fire, only to be met with the coyote he had challenged to a duel.

The bear was furious. "You said we would meet at dawn!"

But the spirit replied first. "In your duel with the elk, you said that it would not be deadly. And then you ate his body. Now, I'm not one for rules, but it does seem that you threw away honor already. And besides, nobody said that the coyote couldn't set fire to your den!"

The bear was left speechless, and never bothered the coyote again.

That's all! If you desire more elaboration or another request, do not hesitate to contact me!

Byeee!

[thcdarlingboy]

Bar Buddies [Casey/Seth]

It had been a long day and Casey was in a foul mood. Something indeed rare, but that happened every now and again, usually when someone messed with the people he cared most about. Family. Rowan. Seth. This time it was the first one. Because of it he had been stumped all day each time he worked on a project. So, finding his best friend in one of their favorite places for sketching and drawing, Casey relinquished a relieved sigh. “Do you feel like drinks tonight?” He launched right into conversation. “I’ll pay. I could really use one. Please tell me your day was better than mine.” // @thestoriesincoffeestains​

[thcdarlingboy]

starter for @madderbythesecond​​ !!  —  Mac & Adamaris (Addy)  —

Mac was looking forward to having another roommate in the house. While he loved Bozer, with the two of them the place sometimes ended up more like a bachelor pad. Maybe having Addy there would encourage them to clean up a bit more. As logical and level-headed as Mac was, sometimes the two guys had a tendency to get into a bit of trouble. Addy might keep them a bit more tamed. Though he also hoped she was prepared.

Bozer was cooking up his famous pastrami for their first dinner together, while Mac kept eye on the door. The instant he saw Addy pull up he swung open the door and walked out to greet her. “Hey! Welcome to our humble abode. Need any help with things?”

[thcdarlingboy]

jodiescomer‌:

We agreed we’d all change. For better or worse, we change t o g e t h e r.

@fatesdesign​

[heniareth]

ZevWarden Week 2022

Day 7: Seasons - Happy Indeed

Words: 2253 | Rating: General audience | Zevran x f! Tabris

WARNINGS:

some slightly suggestive but vague talk at the end

a little bit of Zevran talking about how he never expected to live this long

On the morning of his 79th birthday, Zevran wakes up to a quiet house filled with his still sleeping family, as he is known to do, and decides to take a long walk. During that walk, he reminisces and comes to one conclusion: he is living a very happy life indeed.

Read on AO3 or under the cut:

On the morning of his 79th birthday, Zevran wakes up to a quiet house filled with his still sleeping family, as he is known to do, and decides to take a long walk. His ankles protest as he walks down the stairs--and, if he's to be honest, his knees and hips do as well--but thank the Maker the stairs are short. The morning air is sweet, the sun is just coming up beyond the horizon, and the birds are singing. He grabs one of the canes next to the front door--not that he needs it so long as there are no steep inclines involved, but he likes feeling the cane's weight in his hand and the way it lends him an air of gravitas and dignity--and sets out. His walk brings him down into the Alienage of this small Antivan port city that have been home to him and his Warden for a long time now.

He turns right at their front gate, walking along their garden wall and downhill along the road. There are vines creeping all over the stone wall, their star-petaled flowers a deep blue. Zevran makes a mental note to pick some once he is back. His Warden will like them. Here and there lie the shriveled husks of peaches that have fallen onto the road last year to be dried up by the sun and washed into the spaces between the cobblestones. He deftly snaps one out with the end of his cane and lets it roll downhill in front of him.

For as early as it is, the alienage rises even earlier. The sun is just gracing the rooftops with the first of its rays when he steps through the gate. The flow of people increases as he walks on; most of the elves here work at the docks, not up on the hills. Roughly a decade ago one of the families opened a small bakery within the Alienage--something spectacularly novel as usually nobody has the coin to start such a venture nor the customers to buy bread they could make at home. But the bread is good and they carry many other, more exotic or time-intensive goods. There are a few customers already waiting in line. Zevran queues up and the father of three who is running the shop today greets him like an old regular. And Zevran supposes he is. Astala does insist on buying here as often as possible.

"How is your family?" he asks while eyeing the racks of fresh baked goods behind the man.

"Good!" The man smiles widely. "Our eldest is going to start helping out this year."

Zevran remembers the girl, a bright-eyed thing about the size of his forearm when they first met her. That had been...

"How old is she now?"

"Fourteen."

"Fourteen!" Zevran doesn't bother keeping the surprise out of his voice. "How time flies by."

"She's all grown up," the man says with a proud look towards the back of the building, from where the faint sound of voices rings out. "I saw your son the other day."

"Which one?" Zevran asks.

"Your youngest," the man answers. "There's one who's grown up well. Takes after his father."

Zevran laughs. On one hand, because Astolfo has indeed grown well and the comment makes him feel ridiculously proud. On the other, because the notion of such a man taking after him is... well.

"Ah, I can only claim half of the credit for that. The other belongs to my wife. She would be delighted if you had anything with plums, by the way."

They do, in fact, have something with plums. Or plum marmelade, to be precise. Zevran decides it is still good enough and asks for an ensaïmada for himself and one--no, two--loaves of bread for the whole house. The baker hands him the pastries and holds the bread back with a conspiratory wink.

"I will send it up later with the rest of the stuff."

"The rest of the stuff?" Zevran repeats.

"Can't tell you more than that, sorry," the man says. "Your son specified that we shouldn't say anything if you came by."

A surprise! Zevran quickly assures the man that he will do his best to be very surprised indeed. Then he asks him to pass his compliments on the baking on to his lovely wife and daughter and continues his walk. He does briefly consider sneaking into the back of the bakery to try and suss out what all this secrecy is about. But no. His children--who are adults now, some with children of their own--have planned a surprise. For him. Far be it from him to ruin it. He will keep his ever-consuming curiosity in check like the old, wizened man he is! Curiosity killed the cat and so forth.

But it has to be something baked, that is for sure. And this baked something probably consists out of many small things, if one is to go by the expression "the rest of the stuff".

-

He stops briefly by a well for a drink and some water on his neck. The sun is rising, and already warm. This well hadn't been there either when they'd arrived. Zevran drinks and contemplates his reflection in the water. White hair, skin that is getting more and more leathery by the day--his Warden seems to like it, and why she does will forever remain a mystery to him. He straightens his back as well as he can. Now it is his shoulders that are complaining. One simply doesn't get younger with age. But the sun is still warm while the shade is cool and his time is better served hopping from one shadow to the next than by staring at his poorly-illuminated reflection in a bucket of water. He gives it a shove and listens as it plunges down into the well.

Maker, has he grown old.

He is certainly not one to complain. In fact, if the prostitute who foretold his long lifespan as a boy had a marked grave, he would make the trip to tell her how right she was. Alas, there is no marked grave for prostitutes, nor for assassins. Except for... him. And that he of all people can hope to be the exception to the rule still makes him scratch his head after all these decades.

"Virel, we have to leave now or he will come down and find us."

... On second thought, he might not be the only assassin with hopes of a marked grave.

Zevran shakes his head at himself. That sounded much more sinister than he intended.

He has reached the market. Down a narrow and zig-zaggy path between stands and tents sporting crafts and fresh produce, he can see them. Virel is staring at a stand selling jewelry while Perinella is impatiently tugging on his arm. Both have grown so much since he wrestled them away from the Crows, and both are well on their way to growing just as old as he is now. None of them, however, have inherited his habit of waking up so early. What are they doing here?

Zevran purchases a wide straw hat and a linen shawl from a nearby stand. With the hat on his head and the shawl around his shoulders--it's well-made, but of a color he would never wear--he very casually steps closer to his two oldest.

"One second," Virel mutters, still staring at the jewelry.

Perinella throws a sharp look around and tries to pull him away yet again. "You have enough jewelry at home!"

"Will you let me be? I'm trying to decide here!" Virel straightens from where he was bent over the stand and sighs. "Besides, it's not for me."

"Most people don't have this obsession with getting their spouse something every single time they visit the market," Perinella snips.

Zevran leans forward. Virel has the three pieces of jewelry he has been looking at laid out before him: all silver, one slim earring in the shape of a sickle moon, a thin bracelet with a small semiprecious blue stone at the clasp and a simple silver band probably intended for an ankle.

"Papá does," Virel says. "And it's a nice thing to do."

"Not when he might find us any moment!" Again, Perinella casts a glance around. "And these are all way too simple anyways."

Zevran leans back again and pretends to be fascinated by the long row of braided garlic hanging in front of him.

Come to think of it, they did need more garlic.

"The others said they'd keep him home," Virel says, ignoring his sister's comment about his choices.

"They said mamá would keep him home," Perinella says. "She never wakes up before him!"

"Yes, alright, I get it!" Virel once again leans over the three pieces of jewelry. "One moment only."

"I will say 'I told you so'!" Perinella warns him, but when that doesn't get her brother to move, she huffs and storms off to Carlo, who has appeared a few stalls further down the street.

"Do you have everything?" she asks.

Carlo nods with a big smile and starts placing bags and bags of things into her hands. Perinella is momentarily distracted trying to hold the tower of groceries together, and that's when Carlo's eyes fall on him.

His eyes widen.

Braska! He's always been able to recognise him in any kind of disguise.

Zevran risks a lift to his hat and an urgent finger to his lips. Carlo's eyes snap from him to Perinella, and then he raises his own finger to his lips with a questioning look. Zevran nods emphatically.

"It's okay," he signs. "Won't ruin the surprise."

Carlo frowns.

"Our secret," Zevran signs. "Yes?"

Carlo's eyes widen again, then crinkle at the corners in a devious smile and he gives him a small but firm conspiratorial nod. Then he turns back towards Perinella and starts stacking up his own groceries as if nothing had happened.

Virel is still staring at the jewelry. Zevran quietly leans over to him.

"Take the bracelet," he says.

Virel shoots up straight and looks around himself, eyes wide in alarm. Zevran ducks out of the way behind his broad shoulders and mingles with the crowd.

-

His pastries in one hand and his cane in the other, Zevran leaves the Alienage and takes the scenic route back home. Despite the sun, the wind blows strong and cool from the sea and he has a splendid view over the still green fields on one hand and the blue depths of the sea on the other. Even the long, winding slope back up the hills where their house stands isn't too bad. He does it in one go, scares up a bird in the nearby bushes, who squares up and screams at him until he moves on, and then walks through a short stretch of a pine forest with soft green grass between the roots of the trees until he arrives at the bench that looks out over the city. He sees how, a good ten-minute walk from here, the door of his house opens. The person who steps outside can only be his wife, wrapped in the colorful shawl as it is. Zevran slowly continues onwards while she slowly makes her way up to him. They meet in the middle.

"Who are you and what have you done to my husband?" Astala laughs. "What is that shawl?"

"Do you not like it, my Warden?" Zevran asks, spins so she can admire him from all angles and grins all the while. "I look like you, no?"

"I was going to say." Astala holds his own, dark brown shawl out. "Change? Although it's far too hot for these things."

"My dear Fereldan wife," Zevran chuckles as he swaps the shawls and then holds the pastries up. "How about some shade and some breakfast, hmm?"

Astala pulls a bottle of apple cider out from behind her back. "You read my mind."

They sit down on the bench below the pine trees, put the bottle between each other and go to town on their pastries. Astala's very visible delight at the plum marmelade makes Zevran almost giddy. She is beautiful in the morning light. Then again, she is beautiful anywhere and at any time. Her black hair has turned grey and the wrinkles around her dark eyes make them look like they are caught in an eternal smile. This, more than anything else, tells Zevran that they have lived a good life. The archdemon might have left a scar on her face and a limp in her walk, the Blight might have eaten through her broad frame and her muscles to the point that she never recovered her full strength, but she is happy. And he is happy. So happy that he might cry.

"I have heard," he says instead, "that you were tasked with keeping me in bed this morning."

Astala shrugs cheerfully and brushes a few crumbs off her dress. "If you're sad to have missed out, don't be. Whatever I had in mind will be even better tonight."

Excitement runs through Zevran, and he sidles up closer. "You have ideas?"

"So many, my love," Astala says, voice dropping deliciously low, and kisses him. "Happy birthday, dearest husband."

Zevran caresses her cheek and doesn't stop the wide smile drawing over his face.

"Happy indeed," he murmurs and kisses her in turn.

*

I can't BELIEVE the challenge is already over T_T The good thing is, I still haven't read and seen everything and can thus prolong it a little bit longer. But man, this was great fun. A huge thanks to the organizers and everybody who's participated!! I've enjoyed this so much!!

[calltomuster]

Star Wars Fic Recs Part the Fourth

[first fic rec list] [second fic rec list] [third fic rec list]

Been a few weeks since I've done one of these and I've read/reread some great fics recently so let me share them with you now!

And I Fear Nothing by @maiseey (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 11/? chapters, 43.4k words) Picture this: I am sitting in the parking lot of my local grocery store, having just bought a load of perishables. I get the email that And I Fear Nothing has just been updated. What do I do: run home to preserve the food I just paid for, or sit in my car and read the new chapter right away? The answer is obvious, of course! That is exactly the situation I found myself in last week when chapter 11 dropped and I did in fact choose to read it in spite of my groceries, that's how much I love this fic. In this fic, Obi-Wan and Cody are raising Luke and Leia together on Tatooine, and they've got so much trauma, and new + old wounds, and love for each other and the children they're raising that it both warms your heart and tears it apart. But that's not all, this fic expands beyond just the small home in the middle of the Jundland Wastes and explores Ahsoka and Rex and their journey to de-chip as many clones as possible. I love this fic because it doesn't shy away from hard conversations, but it does it in a way that makes you want to cry and give everyone involved a hug. Plus, there are some fantastic minor clone characters that you will 100% want to die for by the time you finish reading. Cannot recommend this fic enough.

Obligate by @communistkenobi (gen, one-shot, 23.9k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin & Ahsoka) Just when you thought the Deception arc didn't have enough pain, this AU sees Anakin fake his death instead of Obi-Wan! My heart is physically ripped out of my chest just thinking about this fic, so imagine what it'd do to you actually reading it. Anything @communistkenobi writes is so well-done and I've gone through his works list on AO3 multiple times, but somehow I missed this when it was first posted and it was like a wonderfully delightful surprise when I ran into it the other day. So, so good. Highly recommend!

Moirai by damonkey (gen, WIP, 4/? chapters, 9.2k words, Obi-Wan & Qui-Gon) All I can really say about this fic without giving anything away is that it's a Phantom Menace AU and it's so intriguing. The author is very deliberate in having a vague summary and only tagging as the story progresses, so I truly have no idea what's ahead of me but it's so -- as I said -- intriguing that I'm happy to strap into the ride. Ahhhh I'm skimming through the fic and there are so many things I want to mention but I don't want to give anything away!

Almost Home by @frunbuns (gen, one-shot, 5.2k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) You know, every time I recc a Modern AU I'm like "I don't usually like Modern AUs but..." and then proceed to gush over the fic. I went and checked and I've recced a Modern AU on almost every fic rec list I've made! Maybe I do like Modern AUs?? Or maybe the fics are just that good -- and this fic is definitely that good. In this fic, the first of a planned series of fics set in a modern Star Wars universe, Obi-Wan is reeling from the loss of his adoptive father Qui-Gon and has to care for a young Anakin. Ooooooof. Definitely hits you right in the feels, this one. Love the non-chronological storytelling too!

Naked and Not Paid by biscuitlevitation (Obi-Wan/212th Attack Battalion, WIP, 6/? chapters, 14.9k words) This fic is essentially ~15k words of the clones thirsting over Obi-Wan and it is the funniest thing I have read all year. I'm not kidding, I just read the last chapter which features space-church-lady!Anakin and I laughed so hard I cried. I'm cracking up just thinking about it. I promise you will have a good time reading this fic. And if the tag "Obi-Wan Kenobi/212th Attack Battalion" puts you off, let me just say there's no sex in this at all, it's just thirst. And it's hilarious.

Full Disclosure by @trixree (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 2/3 chapters, 7.4k words) ROTS AU in which the Force bonds Obi-Wan has formed with a few members of the 212th save them from the chip and Order 66, but it doesn't stop the devastation from happening on a mass scale and they all have to try and deal with Mustafar and Luke and Leia. This fic manages to be both extremely soft and extremely gut-wrenching at the same time, and I wish I could leave more kudos. Full disclosure (get it, little pun there for ya), I will be dying until the final chapter comes out. Time to go listen to Olivia Rodrigo and reread this fic and just live in my feels.

Thirteen Days by @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12 (gen, one-shot, 4.1k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Post-Zygerria arc, Anakin dresses an unconscious Obi-Wan's injuries and struggles. Ahhhh this fic is one of my favorite Zygerria arc fics, and given that that's my favorite arc, that's saying a lot! Obi-Wan doesn't say a word in this fic, but his presence is very much there, if you know what I mean. And the descriptions of injuries here are pretty graphic at times, but it's so good that you'll want to keep reading even if you have to do it through the fingers covering your eyes.

brother, let me be your shelter by @kenobilovebot (gen, one-shot, 1.6k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) This fic packs so much tenderness in a short amount of words. It covers an AU in which Obi-Wan's issues from Zigoola never really resolve, and Anakin finds out when -- well, you'll just have to read for yourself. I love Zigoola because it is such an excellent whumpfest for poor Obi-Wan and this fic is great for that, but also highlights Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship.

A Padawan At War (Again) series by @itstimeforstarwars (gen, 3 parts, 100k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) In this series, Obi-Wan and Anakin are transported from The Phantom Menace into the Clone Wars and have to deal with all that comes with it: fighting wars, discovering a Padawan you never knew you had, dueling your grandmaster who apparently is a Sith Lord now(?!) and all the rest. This series is a great ride, and I look forward to every update. Note: the first fic in this series is a one-shot that was expanded upon, and it drops you in media res. The second fic is a prequel that shows how they got to that point, and the third fic is the sequel that shows what comes after.

The Desert Storm series by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning (complete, 24 parts, 1.144 million words) There has never been a better time to start reading this series. If you read Star Wars fics on AO3, then you've definitely seen the Desert Storm series before, but maybe you were daunted by the high word count, or felt like it would be too much effort to go all the way to the beginning of a series but couldn't just jump in halfway. Let me tell you, it's 100% worth it, and now is the perfect time to read this series if you haven't already. This series is complete, but it turns out it's all just Act 1 of the larger story, which will continue in the Rise and Fall series. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning is taking a break right now before starting the next series, so you have ample time to get caught up, and YOU REALLY SHOULD. Let me tell you, this series had me on the edge of my seat more than any other piece of media I can remember. With the most recent chapters, where everything that has been building for a million words came to a head, I would get so worked up after each chapter that beforehand I would have to queue up calming things to watch afterwards, and it still wouldn't be enough and I'd be too full of feelings to get anything done the rest of the day. Seriously, this series is amazing. And if you HAVE read it before but haven't reread, now is the perfect time for that as well. I've reread this series multiple times and it's so rewarding because the author sprinkled in so many hints as to what will come that you only understand the second (or third) time around. I know I've written a lot for this rec but this is a long series and it deserves it. Go read! Now!

If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone’s Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!

[sanders1665]

Time has become a distant friend,

the fading light has me ruminating the journeys end,

cherished souvenirs of my youth,

are the memories that captured springtime's truth.

Sweet Summer is nearly over,

this body is tired from pushing the boulder,

the demeanor of my sleep seems like a prelude to death,

but her love and dreams give me strength.

Feels like I'm blending with the background,

I'm not invisible yet, I can still be found,

my sense of relevance is fading away,

but my inner child still wants to play.

Modern morality and behavior is corroding my sense of humanity,

but my liberal perspective offers reluctant amnesty,

remembering love makes the world go round,

as angels and demons cavort in the playground.

Triumphs and conquests hold my head high,

but the tragedies and sorrows make my heart heavy with a deep sigh,

trying to stay focused on the good that tomorrow could bring,

while I fortify my castle with a luscious wellspring.

Adventures can be found at a much slower pace,

my journey of life is no longer a race,

I'm taking time to appreciate the pretty in the view,

for joyful memory making has become an active pursuit.

With age comes new understandings,

that maturity has a different type of dancing,

experience and wisdom can provide clarification,

when the outside world causes consternation.

Shadows of ghosts follow behind me,

and I entertain them during midnight reveries,

murmurs of dubious deeds vaguely reverberate,

but my northern queen brought about their checkmate.

We used to write old fashioned love letters,

and we can still satiate each others pleasures,

all good love stories have chapters of pain,

for rainbows do often appear after the rain.

Observing youths vitality can be wearisome,

conflicting with the aging man I have become,

but love, passion and romance have serene rapture,

these gifts are precious in my storybook chapters.

Mirrors can be cruel if they hold my gaze,

for they reflect poor judgements of long ago days,

on this body, gravity and time are conspiring friends,

but my youthful mind still pretends.

Enigmatic moon and faraway stars saunter over my head,

as children sleep peacefully in their bed,

sometimes, soothing quiet can fall into disarray,

in solitude, I secretly pray.

Flowers of joy blossom in my blood,

with sweet aromas that remind me of the good,

and still, serendipitous moments spring out of the blue,

pushing sadness to the back of the queue.

Sunset memories shimmer beyond the horizon,

and the sunrise will always tease with fresh surprise,

friends and family come and go,

mindful of ones ebbing caught in the flow.

Troubling thoughts of a diminishing future,

as misty graveyards tease with a tombstone suitor,

I'm not ready to write my epitaph, it will be a long time before it's carved,

for this mans zest for life is still full of charge.

Sweet memories are cherished within my mind and soul,

keepsakes that are sustenance in my fruitful bowl,

life moves us forward in mysterious ways,

and love accepts us regardless of the days.

[thcdarlingboy]

everybodyilovedies‌:

odairiver‌:

mastertano‌:

So what do we do now?

#honestly moments like this are why i get huffy when people imply#that there was never any real dynamic fostered between eliot and parker#only eliot and hardison or parker and hardison#he loves her#he loves him#he loves them#in this moment he is (despite his general aversion to that level of violence now) ready to maim or kill for her#in another moment she is the one he begs not to ask about his past#because she is the one he’ll tell if she does#(because she would understand because she knows because the dark in him resonates the same as the dark in her)#and in another moment he reassures her that the dark in them is essential and even neutral#that shadow isn’t light’s absence but its evidence#that who they are is what they do AND why they do it#tell me that’s not a love story every bit as vital and i’ll base jump away from your lies

Eliot loves Parker because he GETS Parker, because they KNOW each other in this very terrible way that sets them both apart from Hardison and is also exactly the reason they both LOVE Hardison.

@fatesdesign​

[lesetoilesfous]

Fic prompt: M!Hawke/Anders, “I should have told you a long time ago.”

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting​

Pairing: m!Handers

Characters: Garrett Hawke, Anders

Tags: end of act 2, mild angst, mostly fluff, declarations of love

Rating: Mature

For the first time in nearly six years, when Hawke gets to Darktown the light outside Anders’ clinic is out. There’s no queue spilling out onto the landing, and instead the earthen floor is eerily empty as the setting sun spills in bolts of pink and yellow silk across the dust. Hawke doesn’t make the decision to start running consciously, but he climbs the steps to the clinic in a heartbeat, and throws the thin wooden doors open in a crashing rattle that startles a pair of pigeons out of the rafters by the wall and into the pink sky that squeezes between the cliffs of Kirkwall.

Inside, the clinic is dark, stretchers empty and counters clear of everything - there are no rolled bandages, or brewed potions, not even clean basins and flasks for the next day’s work. Hawke can feel his heart sitting heavily on the back of his tongue as he steps into the velvet dark and breathes in the smell of soap and cotton and mildew. “ANDERS!”

His voice bellows against the wooden rafters, and Hawke really can’t find it in himself to care. He keeps thinking about coming back from the Deep Roads and finding Bethany gone. He keeps thinking about coming home to lilies and a vase and no mother in the parlour. He keeps thinking about Lothering, and the smouldering ruin blackening the horizon to greet him when he came back from the hunt.

Hawke strides forward through the cots, pushing the rickety wooden structures aside too hard, so they crash into each other, and stares wildly into the dark. “ANDERS!”

“I have neighbours, you know.” Anders’ voice is quiet and exhausted and Hawke doesn’t care. He turns to see the mage standing in the doorway, a bag full of green leafy roots slung over his shoulder, and crosses the space in three long loping strides that feel like they take a lifetime. And then he’s wrapping his arms around Anders’ too-thin body, crushing him close as he buries his face into his shoulder and breathes in the familiar scent of honey-sweet elfroot and sweat. 

“Maker, I thought -” Hawke manages, when his heart has approached a pace he thinks he can survive. He pulls back to see Anders frowning at him, his long sharp face cast in shadow by the dark belly of his clinic. “What - why is the lantern out?”

Anders’ expression darkens, and he pulls himself roughly out of Hawke’s arms, walking into the clinic and lighting a candle with an impatient flick of his wrist. “Why do you think, Garrett? Would you trust me with your child, such as I am?” Anders looks up, and in the candlelight his face is gaunt and hollow, pressed with deep purple bruises of sleeplessness beneath his brown eyes. “I wouldn’t.”

Hawke’s chest lurches, and he turns back toward Anders, feeling like a mabari on a leash. “Anders -”

Anders laughs once, bitterly, and raises a hand in a swift gesture as he dumps the bag of roots onto the cot. “Don’t. Just, don’t. If I wanted hollow platitudes I’d go to the Chantry.”

Hawke bites his tongue, and watches as Anders unpacks the bag: elfroot, mostly, with a few spiky silver branches of Spindleweed. Behind them, in the Undercity, there’s the shrieking sound of a scream, and no way to tell whether it’s in jest or honest fright. With a feeling like falling, Hawke presses on. “What’s going on?”

Anders shakes his head, pursing his lips as he begins to slice the elfroot with quick, practiced motions in a series of soft thumps. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m leaving.”

All at once, Hawke is weightless. He stares, as if the sight of this man is the only thing keeping his feet anchored to the earth. “What?” If his voice sounds strained, Anders doesn’t seem to notice, mouth pressing into a thin line as he chops the elfroot faster.

“I’m leaving. I’m taking myself out of the equation. I almost -” Anders’ voice gets louder, and his hand pauses in the chopping before resuming with new vigour as his shoulders hunch. “I will not let myself hurt anyone else. I won’t. So, I’m going.”

“What about the underground?” Hawke manages, pushing the words like sandpaper over his dry tongue. 

Anders barks a laugh that rings against the clinic’s rafters. In the corner, by the door, there’s a sudden flurry of movement as a rat disappears into the wall. “It’s over. They found our way in. Everyone involved is dead or -” Anders’ voice breaks, and he ducks his head, hair slipping out of his loose ponytail in great chunks as he glares at the elfroot he’s chopping. “Or worse.” He looks up then, and it’s hard to tell in the dark and glimmer of the candlelight, but Hawke thinks his eyes are shining.

From outside the clinic, through the broken walls of Darktown, there’s the ringing crash of the sea. Anders looks at Hawke, and the space between them feels as vast as an ocean. “There’s nothing for me here, Garrett. I should have left a long time ago.”

Hawke feels the words sink into his chest like a hand grabbing his heart and twisting. He moves forward, setting his fingers on Anders’ thin wrists. Anders stops chopping, and looks up at him. This close, Hawke can see the dark track of tears on his cheeks. In the shadows beyond the candlelight, Anders’ stubble is almost silver. Hawke wants that, suddenly, fiercely: wants to live with this man long enough to see him go grey.

The smell of elfroot is thick and sweet between them as honey or molasses, the dark green leaves going darker where they bleed into the chopping board. The candle flame jumps and flickers in the wind that rushes through the buried streets. Hawke’s fingers tighten around Anders’ wrists. “That’s not true.” The words are a whisper, and Hawke has to swallow past the lump of his heart in his throat before he can continue, feeling Anders’ attention on him stretched thin as spider silk, liable to break with the wrong breath. “It’s not true that there’s nothing for you here. I’m here.”

For a second, Hawke thinks Anders believes him. But then his expression crumbles into a mask of impassivity, and he pulls back, turning away from him and walking toward the sink in the wall. The crash of water falling into the basin is loud as a thunderclap in the empty clinic. Hawke stands frozen over the butchered elfroot, feeling as if his feet have been rooted to the ground. He glances down to check that they haven’t, and looks up in time to see Anders’ drying his hands on a rag and lifting his chin.

“Your friendship has meant a lot to me, Garrett, truly, but -”

Anders’ voice is distant, almost cold, and that would sting more if Hawke wasn’t so distracted by the fact that he hadn’t apparently heard what he was saying. 

“No, Anders, I’m in love with you.”

Never let it be said that Garrett Hawke was a man who thought before he spoke. Anders had frozen like a halla in a hunter’s sights, and was staring at him with wide eyes and an odd kind of vulnerability that made him look like a man in his late 20s, not his mid 40s. Hawke soldiered on, walking around the table and crossing the clinic to stand in front of Anders in the dark. He looks into those clever brown eyes, almost black in the shadow, and takes a deep breath.

“I should have told you a long time ago. I love you. I love everything you do. I love your laugh, and that little scar on your chin. I love the perpetual stubble, and the greys in your hair. I love the holes in your clothes and the wrinkles at the corners of your eyes. I love your freckles, and your hands, and the way you look like Andraste herself in the middle of a fight, burning brighter than any star I’ve ever seen. I love your terrible sense of humour and your worse poker face. I love your obsession with cats and I love how much you care about everyone around you with every ounce of everything you arw. I love you, and I love Justice, and I love you and Justice, and I don’t want you to leave. Please, Anders. Don’t leave me.”

Behind them, through the broken walls of darktown, the silver moon rises over the Waking Sea. Blue light flickers over Anders’ cheek. And then he’s moving, and his long, calloused, crooked hands are grabbing Hawke’s face, and he’s bending and kissing him like it’s the only way to breathe, and Hawke has a moment to register the fact that the man even tastes like elfroot, before he’s wrapping his arms around Anders’ chest and pressing him close, hard, licking a broad stripe into Anders’ hot mouth and feeling his knees go weak at the moan that elicits as long fingers push into his hair and scratch against the back of his head. The world spins, and Hawke feels for the first time in a long time as if he’s finally done something right. Then Anders is pulling back, laughing, pressing his forehead against Hawke’s, and his long nose is hard against Hawke’s cheek and cold and wet with tears, and his laughter is breathless and shivering, and Hawke holds him tighter because he doesn’t want him to cry but he doesn’t know what else to do.

Anders presses another kiss to his lips, and Hawke follows him when he moves away, breath tickling his chin. “You smell like a fucking mabari.”

Laughter rises in Hawke’s chest like a firework, and he leans back and picks Anders easily up off the ground, spinning him around as he yelps and then folds into Hawke’s embrace with a laugh and a sigh, resting his arms on Hawke’s shoulders, hands linked loosely behind his neck. Hawke puts him down, but doesn’t let him go, still seized by the irrational notion that if he does this strange, flawed, brave, beautiful man will disappear from his life like mist at sunrise. So instead he squeezes him closer, and kisses his sharp, stubbled jaw, before pressing a series of kisses up his cheek and against his ear as Anders snorts and makes no effort to pull away. 

With one arm braced around Anders’ waist, Hawke moves his other hand to cup his sharp chin, pulling his face down to look at him. “Don’t leave.” Hawke’s voice is rough and low with the demand, and Anders’ eyes skate over his brow and nose and chin, before fluttering shut as he smiles. 

“Alright.” Anders opens his eyes, and looks at Hawke with something terrifyingly close to wonder. Hawke’s arm tightens around his waist, and Anders’ mouth quirks upward in a grin. “Alright. I’ll stay.”

Hawke ducks forward, and kisses the smile from his lips. 

The candle goes out.

[thcdarlingboy]

I’m sorry for not getting to replies lately to those I owe, I got struck with Covid. I’m getting better but still recovering so I will reply things as soon as I can. I just didn’t want anyone thinking I had flaked or anything, but hopefully soon I’ll be back up to writing again.  💜

[thcdarlingboy]

bookisheccentric‌:

Leverage OT3 text post. 1/?? More to come. 

2/???

@fatesdesign​

[buckyjamess-archive]

Okay, how about honeymoon smut with our boy Steve Rogers?🥰😘

ma'am steve rogers doesn't fondue-- he's an innocent soul. but yes, absolutly! please pretend cap never feel in love with peggy. This turned out to be longer than expected. 🤧 18+

honeymoon sex with steve

After being in a coma for decades and waking up in a shit show called the avengers

steve met you in between the chaos he'd been put in

It's the moment he laid eyes on you and never looked at another woman again

never in a million years did Steve Rogers thought he'd fall in love with someone

Never in a million years did Steve Rogers think the feeling we're completly mutual

you're his first in many ways

first date

first kiss

first time

first girlfriend

first ever love

years pass by and your relationship had never been this good but something was..missing?

it was Tony who started it

"Steve, I'm telling you, marriage is the way to go."

followed up by Nat, who not to Steve's surprise, worked along with Tony.

Maybe they were right; steve knew you were the one and maybe marriage would spice things up again?

Like when the two off you moved from the compound to your own little apartment

So he asks you, out of the blue, unprepared but oh so Steve like

you say yes, ofcourse.

It's been a little girls dream after all

Tony 'I'm a billionare' stark pays everything cause the first avengers wedding?

The fact your Tony his favorite works in your favor to

Nat goes out with you to find that perfect dress

clint, a married man. Sam, his new best friend & bucky, his old best friend lend a hand finding a suit for steve

It's nothing big, just the avengers and some normal friends

you're Mr. and Mrs. Rogers

Tony us the one to kick your asses in a helicopter as soon as both of you make it back to the compound

Bagage pushed into your hands with destination unkown

you've seen a lot of places throughout your avengers career but you have to give it to Tony for picking the best honeymoon spot

you're tired or even beyond that when you arrive

Bagage is thrown into a corner

Both you and Steve crash landing on the bed

Both drifting off within seconds

It's the next morning that you wake up to a hand running circles up and down your spine, sending shivers down your spine

A "goodmorning" is exchanged quickly before the both of you end up in a lazy, early morning make out session

something the both of you have done many, many times before

But it hits different this time, as if a new flame as been ignited

Clothes, still from the previous day, are discarded

tossed to all corners of the room

breath hitching as Steve is the one to leave kisses down your body, disappearing under the thin blanket

he's done it so many times before and each time you're taken back

the man is good with his mouth & fingers

Embarrassingly fast he has worked your to your first orgasm

Crawling back up, hovering above you, he gives a small smile and captures your lips in a hungry, passionate kiss

Hands roaming bodies

Breaking free from each other to catch your breath

there isn't much talking, it's moans; groans and an occasional 'God' thrown in

Steve's always gentle, to scared and still not sure of his own powers

Though you've told him you could manage a couple of times, he still refuses to go rough

Steve will look at you, always asking if it's okay or if you're ready

A simple nod or a whispered yes was enough for him

tender, slow, carefull

You can't imagine he can go any deeper than he already is

his pace is slow and steady

his tip brushing against that special spot

Your foreheads pressed to one and other

but when steve grabs the back of you knee and without effort raises it over his hip

He does go deeper, hitting a spot you'd never felt before

The twist of your face and the soft moan leaving your lips let's him know you like this and the foot digging in his spine let's him know you can take more

It's his queue to go a bit faster, rougher

and rough he goes

It's relentless how he thrusts in and out of you

Fast but not to fast

And rougher than ever

the sound of skin slapping against skin and combined moans filling the room

It knocks the air out of your lungs and your not able to form a decent sentence let alone say his name

it doesn't take long before the familiar feeling build up in your body

You're clenching your walls around him, earning a low groan

His hand finds a way between your bodies

Rubbing tight circles on your clit

Working you to your orgasm within seconds

Out of breath, seeing stars and completly off this earth

Steve kisses you passionately and slows his pace, letting you ride out your high

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kiss him back with a small smile on your lips when your land back on earth

Steve picks up his pace but your lip stay connected dancing around in sloppy, messy kisses

The tremble of his arm next to you and his thrusts getting sloppier meant he was on the edge to

All it takes is you clenching your walls around him once again

Spilling his load in you; He's a groaning mess

His face buried deep in your neck

you both stay in that position, catching your breath

Your hand running up and down Steve's back while he litters your collarbone and neck with butterfly kisses

the empty feeling he leaves you in when he pulls out is almost painful

Steve presses his lips to yours once again & kisses your forehead before he gets out of bed

you watch as he moves around the room, watching him like a prey

you hear water running in the bathroom and the sound if Steve's bare feet against the tiles before he pops up in the bedroom again

he doesn't say a single word as he walks over to your side of the bed and extends his hand

"Please join me in this bath, Mrs Rogers."

You giggle softly, taking his hand and get out of bed

"I will Mr. Rogers."

Steve's got stamina, so this is just the beginning of the day..Mrs. Rogers

[tim-burton-bitch]

Tw: pre-romantic prinxiety, slight near-panic attack mentions, mentions of storms, descriptions of crushing, mentions of deep sea swimming, mentions of lack of escape and difficulty breathing, semi-shitty writing, I think cursing this has been sitting in google for a while I wrote this back in like early November at 3 am let me know if there's any others minor spoilers for FWSA

This was written the same night as this one and takes place after technically it's meant to take place shortly after the 2020 election was called this one is just fluff despite all the trigger warnings it's just an idea of the minor similarities yet differences between Roman and Remus' rooms like how it would feel to be in them and I had to write it out and the original idea had come from think of Virgil going in their rooms and describing how they made him feel so I ended up writing it as prinxiety and I like how the descriptions turned out this follows the same headcanons as the previous one shot added on is Roman is also an insomniac sometimes he has a lot of ideas sometimes he keeps working having gotten absorbed into his work sometimes he's overwhelmed with emotions inspiration or just plain can't sleep

Word count: 1,708 words

Virgil sighed, he couldn't sleep again. Why? He didn't know, sometimes it was Remy being a petty bitch sometimes because his anxiety was running high. Some nights he just... COULDN'T. This was one of those nights.

He had been scrolling through tumblr for a surpls of hours, it was nearing 5am, groaning Virgil decided to head downstairs and get some coffee. No point trying to sleep if it just wasn't gonna happen.

He got up slipping on his hoodie over the My Chemical Romance shirt and sweatpants he was trying to sleep in. Grabbing his phone he slipped out the door and into the hall.

He would have gone and asked Roman if he wanted to watch Disney or something had he known for sure Roman was awake tonight. As he snuck down the hall he noticed Roman's door was slightly ajar, a slight breeze blew from the crack in the door. This would not be the first time Virgil had been in Roman's room. Nor the first time he found out Roman's room could be altered to what Roman wished, imagination and all that. In fact being honest he hadn't been surprised at all when he found out, because Remus' room also held that ability. What had surprised Virgil was not the fact it was altered but insteadd what it had been altered to.

The first time he had found out for sure Roman's room could change too it had been late at night, and he had found Roman in the middle of a feild beneath stormclouds watching a lightning storm above him. Virgil had always found lightning storms relaxing. So long as the lightning was far off. It had never struck him as something that the fanciful prince would also find a peace and serenity in storms. And yet that had been what Virgil found, the prince laying on his back in the center of a feild watching the lightning storm. Explaining when he noticed Virgil come in (and asked him to shut the door) that it was peaceful in its own right and he enjoyed changing his room when he was overwhelmed, sometimes with ideas sometimes emotionally.

Feeling overwhelmed was something new to the prince to admit and right now only Virgil knew his secret. They helped each other when they felt overwhelmed or broke down ever since the day Janus had shared his name and Roman broke down to Virgil.

Virgil stepped up to the door enjoying both Roman's company and Roman's rooms ability, as well as usually finding a common scene they both found relaxing, he was curious to discover what the room was tonight.

Roman did not disapoint

Virgil LOVED space. There was always something about the vast mystery that was space. Calm an peaceful.... He and Logan could often be found talking about space and the night sky. Logan would let Virgil into his room to use his telescope whenever Virgil wished.

Tonight, Roman's room was breathtaking. Roman lay in the center of a greeen meadow staring up into a stary night sky. The green seemed to go on forever and technically, it did.

Virgil stepped into the meadow far closer to a pale blue in the moonlight. He quietly shut the door behind him and walked over the the man who lay alone in the center of the grassy meadow, watching the sky slowly move.

"Hey starry-eyes, room for one more?" Virgil asked as he sat down beside the older sides head.

Roman let out a chuckle eyes focusing on the emo now leaning over him, "Always is room for you, so what do you think?"

"The night sky? Seriously? You're really here asking ME if I like this view?"

Roman smirked sitting up part way resting on one elbow, "I asked if you liked the scenery not the view. You're looking at ME right now~" he sing-songed, causing the other to blush.

"Oh shut up you KNOW what I meant!" Virgil cried out shoving the prince to the side as Roman laughed. They were both quiet for a moment just enjoying the serenity of the meadow and company of one another. A few minutes had passed and a breeze blew when Virgil hummed musingly, "I don't think I can ever get tired of coming into your room. I love it here."

Roman looked over having long ago laid back down. He watched as Virgil joined him in laying on his back. He turned back to the sky above the two and hummed an agreement, "I certainly love my room as well. Is it just that you like the rooms shift ability? Because if I'm not mistaken mine isn't the only room which can. Remus' room and The Imagination can as well..." Roman trailed off turning his head to look at the calm, anxious trait laying beside him.

Virgil let out a lighthearted laugh. "No, definitely not. I've been in Remus' room and yours is just... different. The way it feels is... nice."

Roman was still staring at him now quizzically and Virgil turned to look back at him, "How is that? How does my room feel any different than The Imagination or Remus'?"

Virgil looked back at the stars as he pondered the question. "It's... Kinda hard to explain.... See The Imagination doesn't feel like anything really, there unless with someone doing something it feels like any other room so that one's easy. But to describe Remus and your rooms? I'm not entirely sure how..." Virgil glanced at Roman before looking up once more.

Roman was thinking on Virgil's answer in the silence that had proceeded, "Remus' room..." Roman looked over as Virgil began to speak. "Walking into Remus' room is like swimming under water deep in the ocean. You feel a weight suddenly pressing down on you. There's no where to go no way to escape. It's the end, you're running out of air and you know you'll never resurface in time. But you try to anyways knowing it's pointless. Yet you also feel weightless... the way water can make you. Like you mean nothing. Weigh nothing. About to be swept away. It causes you to panic you just. Can't. Breathe."

Virgil's hands tightened into fists as he explained, his chest tightening just at the thought of Remus' room. "I hate it in there. I can never breathe." Roman nodded understanding. When Virgil didn't continue for a moment he thought that was all. That his room held feeling unlike The Imagination, and didn't feel as awful as Remus'.

Virgil's hands relaxed he needed to calm down which was easier here than anywhere else in the mindscape. "Your room..." Roman looked over at Virgil again noting he had more to say, "Your room is the opposite. You feel light... calm.. content and happy."

Roman looked at Virgil with interest, he never really particularly thought so. Virgil continued thoughtfully, "Stepping into your room you suddenly feel like anything is possible. Like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders and you can fly. You feel like you're about to float away and yet..." His hands closed around the grass beneath him, "You feel grounded. Safe and secure. Whatever mess is outside the room is exactly that... outside. While here it can't bother you. It can't do anything to you. It's easier to calm down in here because of that. It's like... the room itself holds your care and compassion. Not to mention your passion. When it's a STORM it goes as all out as you do."

Virgil smirked, "It feels like stepping into your arms. Safe, warm, welcome...." He turned his head to meet the prince's eyes.

Roman was speechless. He was touched Virgil felt safe and welcome with him. In fact as their eyes met he was beyond speechless.

The stars reflected in the eyes of the man who lay beside him. Virgil was still smirking the shadow beneath his eyes a bright purple, he took Roman's breath away, "Coming in here, is like being able to breathe for the first time. You didn't even realize you hadn't been breathing till you come in. Just like with you."

Roman didn't know what to say. A part of him wanted to kiss the emo right beside him caution be damned. But he knew better. Virgil was sweet with the words but they were friendly and not to be taken as anything more.

Besides as romantic as this was and as many fantasies of a first kiss ran through his head in that moment. He wouldn't, consent meant everything to Virgil and Roman wanted to be sure if it ever did happen, he was entirely comfortable with it. He wanted verbal confirmation.

This was romantic and would make for a great first kiss with non-verbal consent. But he wanted Virgil to KNOW he understood the man's boundaries. He wanted the first kiss to be asking permission and after either a direct nod of confirmation or a verbal queue. So Virgil knew Roman would never do anything he was uncomfortable with and he would always feel safe.

So he just nodded as they stared at one another in the moonlight. Each longing to lean in and kiss the other. One afraid of what might happen the other wishing for another scenario where he could directly ask without it sounding out of place.

They chose instead to just enjoy the rest of the night, together.

Eventually they must both have fallen asleep as the next thing they remember there was knock on Roman's door.

"Hey Kiddo, I'm about to go make pancakes, usually you're already up by now so I wanted to be sure you were alright. Also... have you seen Virgil?"

Patton's voice rang out breaking the silence. The two were now laying on the hardwood floor of Roman's room. "Yeah we're fine we were just hanging out last night!" Roman called out.

"Alright kiddos, well breakfast will be ready soon see you then," Patton then walked off leaving the two to wake up properly while he finished cooking breakfast.

The two smiled at one another memory of the shared moment fresh in both their heads as they stretched. Virgil leaving to go get changed. And they both went about their day.

[thcdarlingboy]

diamonddogz‌:

Leverage OT3 + Text Post

@fatesdesign​