#surprise! posting this instead of my usual WIP Wednesday snippet

[pfhwrittes]

the aftermath.

rating: mature audiences.

pairing: john "soap" mactavish x simon "ghost" riley.

word count: 1.8k

notable tags / warnings: transgender john "soap" mactavish, fluff, humour, very light angst, references to offscreen sex, egregious use of scots, banter, swearing.

A/N: i wrote this instead of sleeping, it was meant to be the set up for another part of my trans!soap drabbles but it took a wild left turn into feelsville and so no actual smut occurs in this fic. however, it is funny and fluffy (in my opinion). as always this can be considered to be very lightly edited so typos and weird grammatical goofs are likely to remain so for that i apologise.

–––

unsurprisingly, it’s kyle that catches on and confronts him the following afternoon as johnny pushes some truly god awful looking peas around his tray in the mess. 

“so, who’d you fuck last night then mate?” 

kyle plunks himself into the seat opposite johnny, dropping his tray with a clatter. the shepherd’s pie on his tray sags slightly and johnny feels a disarming bolt of empathy for the oozing mince and potato blob. sue him, he’s still feeling a little tender in places, alright? not that he’ll be admitting that to garrick of all people. 

“dunno what you’re oan about pal.” johnny sniffs and pokes a particularly dehydrated pea with his fork. there we go, nice and breezy. no need to give the game away son. 

kyle scoffs and aims a kick at johnny’s shin under the table. 

“oi! ya fuckin’ roaster, the fuck wis that for!” 

“i know you fucked someone last night. price was complaining about the stink in his office this morning.” kyle points his fork at johnny’s chest accusingly.

well, shit. johnny knew he should’ve got simon to crack the window before he got fucked seven ways from sunday. again, not that garrick needed to know that particular practical tid-bit of organising a secret rendez-vouz with your superior officer. 

johnny clears his throat nonchalantly and picks the spot over kyle’s left ear to address. 

“who’s to say it wasnae the captain gettin’ some last night?” 

the look kyle directs at johnny could probably be used to store clean cut finnish ice directly from fucking lapland with how freezing it is. 

“because he was with me, you tosspot.” 

johnny can’t help the way his face slips from carefully blank neutrality into something a wee bit more salacious. 

“oh aye, is that right?” johnny abandons looking at kyle’s ear to shoot him the dirtiest smirk he can muster. 

“fuck off mactavish.” kyle scowls, “you know what i meant. he was watching the bloody footie with me.”

“is that what you kids are callin’ it these days, eh?” johnny waggles his eyebrows knowingly just to watch kyle glare even harder as he leans forwards to stab johnny in the chest with his fork. 

“hey! mind the nipples, they’re fuckin’ custom! i spent money on these things!” johnny pouts and rubs gingerly at his top, pulling a face as he smears mashed potato into the fabric. gross garrick. 

“shut up, you got ‘em on the NHS like everyone else, you dickhead.” kyle shoots back.

what was sure to be a brilliantly witty retort gets silenced as price appears from nowhere, glowering down at his two sergeants like he’s just found two of his wayward puppies rolling in something long dead and incredibly pungent. 

“mactavish. a word.” 

johnny gulps and shoots kyle a betrayed look as soon as price’s back is turned. 

“oh sorry mate. must’ve slipped my mind. captain’s looking for you.” kyle grins, looking for all the world like butter wouldn’t melt in that clever wee mouth of his. 

bastard. 

––

johnny does not fidget. not even once. he’s cool, he’s calm, he’s co-

“it was reported that you were seen leaving this office - my office - at 0300 hours this morning, sergeant.” price rumbles from behind the - his - desk. 

-mpletely and utterly fucked. 

and not in the way he was only twelve hours previous. in this very room. over that very same desk. steamin’ jesus. 

johnny pointedly does not meet price’s gaze, instead he continues staring at the cinderblock behind his captain’s shoulder like it contains the secrets of the universe. or perhaps a false brick that when nudged just right would open a portal to hell under his feet. 

the chair under price’s bulk creaks as he settles back, watching for any sign of guilt or admission. the cigar propped on the edge of the cut glass ashtray sends a smoky tendril into the air as it drifts lazily to the window that johnny can see is cracked open a fraction in his peripheral vision. 

“nothing to say, sergeant?” price’s voice is deceptively soft and a shudder runs up johnny’s spine unbidden. fuuuuuuck. the way he sees it, he’s either fucked once if he admits to being somewhere he very much shouldn’t have been with company he definitely shouldn’t have been fraternising with, or fucked twice if he tries to deny it without knowing all the facts. he is, as the big bastard himself would say, in a spot tighter than a nun’s cunt. 

johnny swallows drily, preparing to take possibly the stupidest risk of his career and possibly his life so far, when a solid knock on the closed door saves him. thank christ. his heart soars - 

“enter.” price commands. 

almost immediately the hulking figure and current cause of johnny’s predicament steps through the door near silently to stand shoulder to shoulder with johnny. just a hair too close to be considered professional.

“lieutenant riley, good of you to join us.” 

- and promptly falls out his arse. 

good to know that there was a third and far worse option available to him. 

––

centuries or possibly even aeons later, a knock rouses johnny from the light doze he’d slipped into immediately after clambering into the tiny twin bed provided in his room. sent away from price’s office in disgrace, the sounds of his shouting still ringing in his ears. but even worse, the way that simon - ghost - simon had refused to even look at johnny before he turned on his heel and stalked down the corridor. away from him.

“nngh.” johnny grunts intelligently and swipes a slightly tacky palm over his face before letting it drop to brush against the worn carpet tiles. fuck getting up to let price in here to yell at him some more, or to deal with gaz’s kicked puppy look. he’ll stay exactly where he is ta very much, despite the way a spring in the lumpy mattress is poking into his right kidney something fierce. and the fact that now he’s awake he could do with a drink to rinse away the gummy feeling in his mouth. eurgh. 

the knock sounds again. 

“fer fucks sake, come in then ya -” johnny calls out grumpily, lifting his head from the pillow and his eyes flying open so he can glare at the door from his supine position.

and once again, simon “here to make shit worse for him specifically” riley steps through the door.

“- prick.” johnny finishes weakly. oh. well this is awkward. 

simon hums quietly in agreement and quietly shuts the door with his foot. johnny blinks, not entirely sure if he’s agreeing with being called a prick or if the situation is awkward. 

“bit o’ both really.” simon rumbles. ah, right yeah. johnny’s always had a habit of saying the first few thoughts that pop into his head immediately after being woken up. always makes one night stands a bit awkward in the mornings. 

“hm. is that the reason you’ve never let me stay the night then?” simon asks as he drops heavily into the tactically acquired chair in the corner of the room paying no mind to the fact he’s sitting on johnny’s freshly laundered skivvies. 

“somethin’ like that, aye.” johnny swallows awkwardly, christ he needs a drink of water, “that an’ i thought we’d get -” 

“caught.” simon finishes tiredly. 

johnny huffs out a sound that if he was being charitable could be considered a laugh under the right circumstances. this isn’t the right circumstances. obviously.  

“aye. yeah. that an’ all.” 

a silence stretches between the two of them then. it’s uncomfortable to say the least, aching in a similar way to johnny’s neck as he continues to peer at simon, who is sagging like a half-empty rucksack. johnny lets his head drop back onto the flat pillow underneath him so he can gaze sightlessly up at the water stained ceiling tile. what a fuckin’ mess. 

“‘m sorry.” 

it’s said so quietly johnny could half believe he imagined it. 

“‘s not yer fault, don’t worry about it.” johnny says flatly to the water mark on the ceiling. he closes one eye and squints, hm. looks a bit like a pair of knickers like that. johnny hears simon take a steadying breath from across the space. oh. johnny opens both eyes and lifts his head, his expression carefully blank. 

simon is hunched over now, his elbows resting on his thick thighs and he’s staring fixedly at the carpet just in front of his boots, purposefully avoiding johnny’s eyes. 

“simon?” it’s a gentle nudge but johnny watches as simon’s broad shoulders tense up, his biceps flexing as he fidgets with his clasped hands. oh. that’s more of an admission of guilt or responsibility than anything simon could say. johnny knows this man, inside and out at this point. he’s economical with movement in a way that can only ever be learned through being completely aware of your size and surroundings. never a fidgeter. always still. always controlled. 

“‘m sorry.” simon repeats quietly, allowing his head to hang down and exposing the soft nape of his neck where his balaclava gapes away from his shirt. in better circumstances johnny would get up and chance a kiss on his exposed skin just to hear him make a soft pleased noise that always reminds johnny of a cat purring out a raspy mrrr of contentment.

“did ye go to price an’ tell him then?” johnny asks levelly despite the way his heart has suddenly decided to reside in his large intestine again for the second time today.

simon’s head jerks up and he frowns. 

“no - i - no.” simon states firmly and johnny takes a shuddering breath. good. 

“good.” he says out loud. “i didnae think ye would.” johnny tacks on just to watch some of the tension in simon’s shoulders leak away. the urge to comfort simon wells up behind johnny’s ribs, it’s a tender thing and it makes johnny’s breath hitch a little unsteadily. he sighs dramatically to cover it and flops his head back onto the pillow again. 

“c’mon then, get over here ya big bastard.” johnny orders faux-peevishly. 

“what.” 

johnny groans and rolls his eyes. simon can be unbelievably dense when it comes to intimacy that doesn’t involve being bent over the nearest suitable surface sometimes. 

“‘mon then, i want a cuddle before price decides to split us up for the rest of our careers.” johnny raises his arms and makes a grabbing motion much like a wee toddler would to demand being picked up. johnny tries not to be insulted when that seems to be the reason that simon hefts himself to his feet to stand awkwardly at the side of the bed. 

“‘m not gonna fit.” he states and johnny rolls his eyes again. 

“sure ye will, just don’t squash my tits, alright?”

there’s a pause before simon states in his usual blunt manner - 

“how th’ fuck am i meant to do that, you ‘ad ‘em chopped off at eighteen.” 

and for some reason that makes johnny burst into relieved laughter. 

aye, they’ll be alright.

[linkysmommy]

WIP Wednesday

heyyy @aces-and-angels thanks for the WIP Wednesday tag 😘 as you said time doesn't matter so posting wip wednesday at 2 AM on a saturday morning because why not. I have a few lil snippets so I'll be putting them under the read more

WIP 1 - RETIREMENT HOME

AU where instead of aging to death, Matthias just ages a lot and loses his ability to function and Lincoln has to take care of him.

Matthias sits in a rocking chair in front of the TV. He doesn’t look up as Lincoln enters. The little hair he has is thin and wispy, and his skin is wrinkled and fragile. He wears a thin bathrobe that Lincoln’s sure won’t do enough to ward off the cold. He’ll have to make sure he changes into something warmer.

“Hey, Dad,” Lincoln says, shutting the door quietly behind him. Matthias’s gaze wanders away from the small TV in his room and lands on Lincoln. His eyes are empty and uncomprehending. He looks at Lincoln for a long moment before returning to look at the TV.

Lincoln crosses the room and takes the chair beside Matthias.

“How are you feeling today?” he asks, his voice gentle and careful.

Matthias doesn’t respond. He usually doesn’t. Lincoln is used to it, though usually he has Angel here with him to support him when it gets too difficult.

Lincoln holds out a bag of fresh peaches. “I brought these for you. They’re from the fruit stand you love.”

Matthias’s eyes drift to the peaches. Lincoln expects he’ll just look away, but then—

“My wife used to bring these for me,” Matthias says. His voice is weak and soft from so little use, and his words slur together without his teeth, but Lincoln understands every word.

“You—you remember her?” Lincoln attempts to hide his surprise, but he can’t help but gape.

Matthias slowly turns to look at him, and his lips turn upward in a vague smile.

“Of course I remember her,” he says in that soft, airy voice. “Silvia. She gave me everything I could ever want. Love, home, family, my son.”

Lincoln blinks at him. “Your… your son?”

“Yes. Lincoln… oh, he was a good boy.” Matthias’s eyes seem to clear as he looks at Lincoln. “You remind me of him, you know.”

WIP 2 - NOAH X MC

sorry sorry I just unearthed this from the depths of my google docs and i love it... i wrote this in 2020, before ilw was ever even conceived!

Cold.

I’m so, so cold.

Like ice… like fear… like death.

“Jaz. Jaz! Can you hear me?” The voice is distant, but familiar. Like something out of a dream that I know I recognize but can’t quite place. “Please, say something. Please…”

My eyes open, filling with blinding light. I flinch them shut again, and then something jostles my body.

“Jaz!” It’s the same voice from before. So familiar. How do I know that voice? “You opened your eyes—are you all right?”

I force my eyes open once more, and though it’s bright, I keep them open. A hazy figure leans over me. I stare at it as my vision comes into focus—and then I recognize him. The messy brown hair peeking out from beneath a beanie, the angular chin, the straight nose.

Noah.

I want to move my hand to touch him, but my body won’t respond. So I try to say his name instead.

“Nnnh…”

Noah leans closer, his eyes wide with concern. “What was that?”

“N…” My mouth feels foreign, like it belongs to someone else. “No… ah…”

His face melts with relief and he grips my hand tighter. “Yes. I’m here, Jaz. I’m always right here.”

I blink up at him. I don’t remember what happened, don’t remember why I’m here. All I can recall is the darkness, the loneliness, the cold… and him. Noah Marshall. I can’t remember what he did or what he said, but I somehow know that he was always there beside me.

A shiver runs through me and my teeth start to chatter. Noah seems to notice, because he pulls off his jacket and places it over me. 

“I’ve got you,” he says. “You’ll be okay.”

“Wh… where…?” My teeth are still chattering uncontrollably.

“We’re in the woods, Jaz,” he says softly. “I found a way to bring you back.”

Back? Where was I before? But I’m just too confused and cold and exhausted to ask. 

Noah scoops me up in his arm, his touch gentle as a feather. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

There are so many things I want to say, so many questions I want to ask. But protected in Noah’s arms, comforted by the soft swaying as he carries me, my eyes droop shut and I fall asleep.

WIP 3 - ALERAK PROPAGANDA

I co-write with my sister and she calls the shots in this particular book. I started shipping two characters and wrote this propaganda for her to see my vision... who knows if she listened 🙄 For context, Alerin is a prince and Jezrak is the ambassador from a hostile foreign nation teehee.

“So…” Jezrak said, casting a glance in Alerin’s direction. “Just you and me again, huh? Just like the good old days.”

Alerin’s eyes flicked to Jezrak, his expression clearly saying “drop it”—but the moment he saw Jezrak’s appreciative gaze raking over his body, Alerin’s resolve faltered. Jezrak bit his lower lip, eyes glinting with desire, and Alerin’s heart started to pound.

He glanced up at the camera in the corner of the elevator. He wondered if the camera was actually recording anything. He wondered how often people checked its footage. He considered the worst that could really happen if someone actually saw compromising footage.

Then a pair of hands grabbed Alerin by the collar and pushed him into the corner beneath the camera. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, Jezrak’s mouth was on his, insistent and hungry and full of desire. All thoughts of cameras and being discovered dissolved as Alerin held Jezrak, kissing him back. He tangled his hands in Jezrak’s hair—his long, silky hair that drove Alerin crazy—and pressed their bodies more tightly together. Jezrak’s hands were everywhere, running up and down Alerin’s entire body, tickling the inside of his thigh. Alerin groaned as Jezrak’s mouth slipped from his mouth to his jaw, then to his neck, then—

The elevator stopped and there was a pleasant ding. Jezrak jumped away from Alerin, smoothing out his pants and running a hand through his mussed hair. Alerin barely had time to try to regain himself before the elevator doors opened to reveal the last person he wanted to see: Darvus. 

The king was flanked on either side by bodyguards as he swept into the elevator. Alerin’s heart was pounding so loudly in his ears he almost worried his father would be able to hear it and piece together what had just happened.

“Ah, Alerin. Just who I wanted to see,” Darvus said with a curt nod. It was as if Jezrak wasn't even there. “I hear the date with Ms. Werthins went well. That’s good to hear.”

Alerin didn’t know if he could trust himself to speak. His mouth felt dry, and his mind was spinning with adrenaline. “Uh, yes,” he managed to say.

Darvus peered up at Alerin, and seemed to take in his appearance for the first time. He grunted in disgust. “Fix your hair. You look like a homeless boy who just woke up from sleeping in a ditch.”

Alerin ran a distracted hand through his hair as his eyes flicked over Darvus’s shoulder to Jezrak. The memory of Jezrak’s tongue against his skin was so fresh he could practically feel it still, and his body craved for more. But at the moment, Jezrak’s expression was stoic, impassive. As if his tongue hadn’t just been locked in Alerin’s mouth. When the elevator dinged again, Darvus placed a hand on Alerin’s shoulder. “Come with me, I want to discuss the announcement with you,” he said.

Alerin barely resisted as he followed his father out of the elevator. But as he left, he glanced over his shoulder, caught Jezrak’s eye, and gave his earlobe a discreet tug. Then, before Jezrak could do anything else, Alerin turned forward again and darted after his father, his face hot. Though he couldn’t see it, he could practically feel Jezrak’s smirk watching him as he disappeared down the hall.

 Alerin knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He had a plan, and maintaining a secret romantic entanglement with the ambassador from a hostile foreign nation was the kind of scandal that could destroy his plan before it even began. But the truth of the matter was, Alerin wasn’t strong enough to resist.

And after today, he was fairly certain Jezrak wasn’t, either.

--

tagging @aallotarenunelma, @laylaisthename, @immemorialmarketeer, to share WIPs if you want! also i apologize if you were already tagged 😭 (i tried to not tag ppl i knew were already tagged)

[walker-extended-universe]

WIP Wednesday Game

(stolen from @kedreeva)

Rules:

Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it!

Micki Inserts bc I can

Micki checked her makeup in the rearview mirror of her truck and touched up her lipstick before stepping out onto the dirt path. She didn’t think she’d be back at the Walker ranch for Larry James’ wedding off all things, but here she was.

As she approached the barn-turned-chapel, it occurred to her that this would be the first time she saw her old coworkers face to face in over a year. Or Trey. Or anyone in the Walker family, really. She was kind of surprised she’d even received an invitation but James had insisted and Walker had double-insisted and even Trey had reached out so she couldn’t really say no. Besides, she needed a reason to wear the nice dress that had been sitting in the back of her closet for ages.

Cassie is pregnant and Kevin is dead whoops

“Can I get the large bucket of shrimp please?” Trey yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry- just- Pregnancy cravings, you know?” He fumbled for his wallet.

The owner of the stall chuckled. “I’ve been there, my friend. At least your wife isn’t as expensive as mine. She always wanted steak!”

Trey should correct him. Cassie isn’t his wife, just a friend. But…. It’s not this guys’ business. And he really just needs the shrimp. “Yeah, she either wants shrimp or fries these days. I don’t mind, I just wish it was at more reasonable hours of the day, you know?”

August/Sadie

August hesitated before knocking on the door to his old family home.

“Would you- Ugh, just let me.” Sadie reached over and rang the doorbell. “It’s freezing out here,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching over and hugging her, rubbing her arms to warm her up. “I’m just a little nervous. It’s a big day.”

August got Sadie pregnant and now there's drama (co-authored with @theladywyn)

Cordell was used to waking up to a baby’s cries by now. He’d been surprisingly well tuned to that when Stella and August were growing up and, with the new baby in the house, those instincts were back. Of course, he rarely had to do anything when that happened since August usually jumped right on it, but he usually got out of bed just to check on things.

Tonight was a bit different.

He padded down the hall to August’s room, expecting to see August lifting the baby out of the crib or changing a diaper. Instead, he saw August sleeping while the baby whined for attention. His phone was lighting up with some kind of alarm.

[galpalaven]

wip wednesday - part 1

@thefloweranon requested i post more snippets of my ebon light stuff so!! here's a lil snip of ernol and my oc i made for him, noa!

It’s hard to tell much about where she is or how long it’s been, when she finally wakes. 

The first thing that comes to her is the pain—this, at least, is familiar. What isn’t as familiar are the satiny sheets she lays on, the smell of lavender and something like sandalwood filling her nose with the first deep breath she takes. When her eyes flutter open, she finds darkness, half a canopy over the bed she lays in that suggests where she might be. Moonlight floods in from the windows, but no lights are lit in her room. She is grateful for the darkness, as it keeps the throbbing in her head to a minimum.

“You’re awake.”

It’s almost comical, the relief that washes over her at the familiar voice by her bed. She turns her head slightly and finds him there, sitting with his back ramrod straight, eyes sunken and skin even paler than she’s used to. Ernol leans forward hesitantly, resting his arms on the mattress and—after a moment of hesitation, he slides his hand under and into one of hers, squeezing tight like he’s trying to assure himself that she’s really there.

He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, and then deflates a moment later, slouching and running his thumb over the back of her hand.

“...you’re awake.”

She squeezes his hand back with a wry grin. 

“I don’t know. I feel like I must be dreaming if you’re in my bedroom, Ernol.”

Despite the way he scoffs, his lips tug into a rueful grin, eyes darting across her features as he shakes his head. “Must you joke even now, Noa?”

She smirks at him. “It’s a coping mechanism.”

He grins even wider for a brief moment, and she swears the room gets a bit brighter, before his fear breaks through his mask once more, and he sighs, shaky and low. He cradles the hand he holds with both hands now, skin gentle and soft despite his combat training. 

“I have never been so frightened, Noa… I… And—and then the way you were talking before you passed out. I thought…”

Noa laughs softly. “Oh dear. I must have said something ridiculous.”

“You don’t remember?” 

He sounds… upset by the thought. Trying to clear the haze of pain from her mind, she turns to look at him a little more fully, blinking to bring her eyes into focus. She tilts her head as she says, “I remember some of the things I said. Why?”

“You called me…”

“Mysao’ora?”

“Love.”

Ah.

She had done so, hadn’t she?

She smiles ruefully, squeezing his hands and shrugging as best she can. “Is it such a surprise? We’ve been friends for ages. You’re my best friend. Of course, I love you.”

“That…” he starts, brow furrowed, but he shakes his head before he can finish that sentence. “I… have been blind, I think. I have been a blind fool who needed what he had to nearly be stripped from him before he realized what was there.”

Her stomach flips, and she watches him carefully as she asks, “What do you mean?”

“I’m…” He pauses, shifting in his seat to lean in closer, wetting his lips as he tries to find the words. His thumbs still stroke at her hand as if to ground himself instead of her. “I’m in love with you. I love—I love you, Noa. I love you.”

Noa can feel her smile pull painfully at the wound on her cheek, and two tears drip into her hairline as she laughs weakly into the dark. She had never thought to hear those words from his lips. Had never thought—but it feels good all the same. 

When she doesn’t answer right away, his voice comes again, soft and pleading.

“Say something.”

Noa looks over at her best friend—at the man who she has spent nearly all her life with, those dark, fathomless eyes fixed desperately on her face. He looks so different to how he usually looks. Vulnerable, open. Gentle. It makes her ache with the need to reach out and smooth away the worry between his brows, to cup his cheeks in her hands and tell him it’ll all be alright. To be the safe harbor he has always needed.

But she can’t really move with the injuries she has now.

“I love you, too.”

“How?”

She snorts. “How? What do you mean, how, Ernol?”

“How do you mean?” he asks again, leaning forward. “As a friend, or…?”

“Beloved,” she starts, and she smiles as his ears flush with color, “I have been in love with you for a while now.”

He smiles, shifting in his seat as though itching to close the distance between them. “How long?”

“So long that I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t.”

Ernol makes a sound that is somewhere between a laugh and a sob, leaning forward to press his forehead against her hand. “Noa, why didn’t you ever say something?” he groans into the comforter, though his eyes are glittering with happiness when he peeks at her. “You should have told me sooner.”

She shakes her head. “You deserve someone worthy of your pedigree, Ernol. I’m… I’m nothing.”

“Nothing?” he repeats, sounding positively scandalized. “You graduated top of our class from the Academy. You have consistently had the highest scores in every subject we—”

“But I am a halfling, Ernol,” she interrupts gently. “You are already contending with your own diluted blood. Your reputation didn’t need a half-human lover in the mix.”

He scoffs. “You say that as if you are some random barmaid I picked up at port and not one of the best strategic minds to come out of our generation of Gha’alian soldiers.”

She squeezes his hand. “The distinction doesn’t matter as much to people as you think it should, my love.”

Though he flusters at the pet name, he presses forward, adamant now. “Then we will make them see, Noa. I will make them see. It’s not—you are not—not less than anyone else. In fact, you are worth more than most of them combined.” Ernol moves, then, shifting to sit on the side of the bed and reaching out to brush her hair from her face. “I would not care if you were part human or part frog, you know that? I’m… I know it seems all of a sudden, even to me, but I think this isn’t a new feeling at all. I love you. I want you by my side. I want—I want…”

He trails off as he seems to realize the position he is in, hovering over her in a dark bedroom. She smiles, watching as his eyes are drawn to her lips as a moth to a flame. 

“Can I… Can I kiss you?”

Noa laughs. “I shall be very offended if you don’t, I think.”

That pulls a startled laugh out of him, but he doesn’t waste another moment, bending to sink his lips into hers with a quiet groan.

It is, immediately, everything she ever thought it would be—and so much more.

All those years training beside him, learning with him, have prepared her well for this moment. His body language, his movements, his very breath—it is all as clear to her as a picture book. Every move he makes is graceful and elegant, much as he is when he moves on the battlefield. It’s a familiar dance, somehow, despite never having kissed him before, to follow his lead, to mirror his movements until his tongue has slipped between her lips and her brows have furrowed, one hand lifting to tangle into his hair, to hold him right where she wants him. He does nothing but groan into her lips, and the mattress dips as he shifts, breaking the kiss for only a moment to settle on his hands and knees above her before his mouth is back on hers, teeth sinking into her lower lip in his haste.

He presses against her gently as her arms wrap around him to pull him closer, sighing into his lips as the warmth of his body sinks into her bones. The pain of her injuries is something she only barely notices, too overwhelmed with the sensation of his body against her, too lost in the feeling of his lips against hers, of his tongue in her mouth, of his breath on her skin. 

“I love you,” she mumbles into his mouth, nails digging into his back as they pant into each other’s lips. “I love you so much, Ernol. I’ve wanted you for so long, I can’t—”

[noire-pandora]

Thanks for the tag: @rakshadow​ @rosella-writes​ @fiadhaisteach​ Tagging: @morganlefaye79​ @oxygenforthewicked​ @emerald-amidst-gold​ @starsandskies​ @roguelioness​ and everyone who want to do it!

I posted 19,096 times in 2021

343 posts created (2%)

18753 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 54.7 posts.

I added 10,721 tags in 2021

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My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Here we go, another Wednesday. Today I'm sharing a short snippet from Daughter of Fire/Herald of Spirit chapter 6. I like to think that the Dalish have a deep respect for life, spirits, and everything in between. Since Elluin was to be the next Keeper, she was taught respect for life from a young age. As a mage, she was advised to respect the beings from the Fade, for she is just a guest inside there.

And of course Solas is a little "Wait, what? You care about that???" when Elluin talks about it, because he has a shitty and wrong opinion about Thedas and the Dalish in particular.  And of course Elluin is there to show him how fucking wrong he is.

"Why do you care?" asked Solas, still looking  at her hand. "It was only a spirit, what if you hurt it? It has no hold on your life."

Elluin snorted in amazement, "I hope you're joking because you know how easy it is to corrupt a spirit. What if, because of my stupid instincts, the spirit is now a twisted demon hunting other spirits or mages in the Fade?"

Solas let go of her hand, his grey eyes staring into her green ones. "Again, why do you care?"

"I care because the thought of me hurting an innocent being terrifies me. It does not matter if it's human or spirit. We mages are like guests in the Fade, welcomed into their home by the spirits and demons. Do you think it’s normal to attack the host in their house?"

Solas said nothing, and Elluin continued, stumbling over her words, her voice rising higher and higher. "I'm an idiot. Instead of thinking the situation over, I panicked and thought the wolf was another demon trying to hurt me. Ever since I got that damn thing," she raised her left hand in the air where the worm-like tendrils of the Mark licked at her skin, "i've been attacked by demons every night. In my stupidity, I've hurt an innocent creature and there's nothing I can do to help it. I'll never forgive myself for that." The bitterness of her decision flowed in her words as she spoke, and tears of anger at herself gathered at the corners of her eyes. She looked down at the ground, ashamed.

Never hurt an innocent creature, Da'len, her Keeper used to say many years ago when she was still learning to walk. Be kind to those weaker than you. When surrounded by your enemies, never attack first. Offer them a chance to make amends.

How could she look her Keeper in the eye again after hurting a spirit in the Fade?

A low chuckle came from Solas' direction and she jerked her head up as anger shot through her veins. "You think that's funny?" She glared at him, fire sparking at the tips of her ears.

Solas looked at the sparks flying around her with wide eyes and raised his hands in front of him. "No, no, I apologise. I am not amused by your behaviour. I am merely... surprised. I have never met a person who cares  about the fate of a lone spirit."

"Then you haven't met the right people, Solas. You haven't had much luck with people, have you?"

Tag list under the read more. Tell me if you don’t want to be tagged anymore or if you want to be tagged. As usually, no pressure and thank you!

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@emerald-amidst-gold @little-lightning-lavellan  @sidhelives  @midnightprelude @fandomn00blr @hobo-apostate @ashalle-art  @in-arlathan @hollyand-writes  @roguelioness @juliafied  @aricazorel  @raflesia65  @cleverblackcat  @the-dreadful-canine @enasallavellan @aymayzing @johaeryslavellan  @dalishkadan @khajiithasnowares @charlatron @dalish-rogue @starsandskies @thevikingwoman @1000generations @bearlytolerant @charmcity-jess    @barkspawn-says-mage-rights @rakshadow @pinkfadespirit @pookydraws @for-the-nights-icant-remember @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas @pikapeppa @kumaronoa @ammocharis  @blueheaded​ @a11sha11fade  @samuraisaucefrites​ @for-the-ninth

88 notes • Posted 2021-09-29 09:06:29 GMT

#4

The wonderful @lunar-shards did a stunning work drawing my dear Elluin Lavellan. I can't stop looking at her. Thank you!❤❤❤

103 notes • Posted 2021-07-26 05:22:56 GMT

#3

I won a giveaway held by Meluvi (on Twitter) and she did the most amazing job drawing Elluin Lavellan. I adore this work.

Go and check her works if you're on Twitter, she is a brilliant artist. 😊

173 notes • Posted 2021-10-27 19:44:44 GMT

#2

I got this drawing of Elluin as a gift. Made by flixia.art on Instagram

310 notes • Posted 2021-03-11 14:29:58 GMT

#1

A simple reminder you are free to unfollow me/block me if you feel like my presence on your dashboard is bothering you.

I promise I won't call you out for that, I won't make vague posts about it or pop in your DMs to ask you why.

You are free to curate your experience and if my presence muddles your experience, please unfollow/block me without fear. I promise I won't come after you.

38210 notes • Posted 2021-04-07 07:13:46 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[chrisemrysfics]

Hello~!

Let’s make myself a little plan for WIP Week, a best case scenario where I do all the things I hope to do~

Note: Assassin’s Light will update on wednesday as usual!

-> Speaking of AL... I will release sometimes monday or tuesday a little preview of the chapter that will be out on wednesday; and thursday (as it fits the theme) I will make a post about how many chapters are currently written for AL~!

-> I have started working on the next chapter of Bring me to Life yesterday, so I will do my best to finish this chapter during the week~

-> I will try to work at least a little bit every day on the WIP that fit the theme. Or WIPs (I’ll note down all WIPs I would ideally work on, and try to do a little bit of at least one). And post a little snippet!

February 24: Your Oldest WIP => Hellish Chronicles, Our Past, Divine Battle and The Joy of Time Travel.

February 25: A WIP Containing Your OTP => Meet me Halfway to the End (Neallen, is open to interpretation but very strong anyway), Bring me to Life (Mana/Allen/Nea as a vee), Make it Right (Tyki/Allen/Nea as a triad). I don’t have a Tyki/Allen WIP but I might try to write a little thing for it; and I’ve had an idea for a Joyd/Allen so I’ll try working on it!

February 26: Your Canonverse WIP Or Your AU WIP => Did you mean all my story who are almost all canonverse au? So I guess this is an excuse to work a little more on WIPs from the previous two days, and if inspiration is there, for those not mentionned for any other day. Rise of the Walker is possibly the first one I will actually try to work on, as it’s my Allen’s canonverse backstory so!

February 27: Your Most Popular WIP => That still remains Secret of Dark Red so far, so I might focus on trying to write for this one; and hopefully have a new chapter!

February 28: Your Favorite WIP => It is currently Assassin’s Light, so that’s why it’s on this day I’ll make a post saying how many chapters there are; however since it’s a WIP I’ve been working on steadily, I want to use this WIP Week’s day for something else. In this case, my other faves WIPs are Meet me Halfway and Rise of the Walker, so more working on those!

March 1: Your Previously Unpublished WIP => I don’t plan to add any more WIPs so instead, I will work more on the Joyd/Allen; but also work a bit on the sequel for Long Lost Reunion!

March 2: Any WIP => I will simply see on this day what I could finish to post, and just what I feel like working on, I might try to work on anything I haven’t mentionned before and haven’t worked on (or not much) during the week!

-> I will reply to the bonus questions!

Again, this is an ideal plan, and I’ll be the first surprised in a good way if I follow it. But hey, it will make it easier to have some direction for myself!