#when did he wear those clothes? when was his hair faded that way? COULD WE HAVE THE DATE HE RECORDED THE SONG IF WE WORK HARD ENOUGH??

[livingdeadvamp]

Please don't make me get a job 😭😭

[lillikitty]

You’re… Back? (Ekko x Reader)

Summary: Taking place in S2, after Ekko and Heimerdinger disappeared.

Your eyes open widen and you sit up straight in bed, glancing around the all too familiar and empty room. Your hand squeezed the jacket under it and you pulled it close to your chest, leaning your face into it only to grimace as the scent on it was fading.

A sigh escapes your lips as you slowly slide out of bed, leaving the jacket behind as you step out of your room into the Firelight’s hideout. You see not many others awake as it’s far too early in the morning for a lot of people to be awake. Your eyes land on the mural of all the ones you’ve lost, looking at each person before finally resting your gaze on your boyfriend’s picture.

He said he’d be back, that he and Heimerdinger were just going to go and figure out what was wrong with the tree. But they’ve been gone for so long now that you can only assume they’re both dead. If you would’ve known that was the last time you were gonna see him you would’ve given him one more kiss.. No, you wouldn’t have let him go in the first place. Your heart sinks and you quickly blink away your tears as you enter your bedroom again.

After Ekko’s disappearance, you took on the role as the head of the Firelights. No one was closer to Ekko than you were and you carried a lot of the weight with Ekko before, only now you have to do it alone. Your walk is slow and sluggish as you go through your morning routine, a shower, brushing your teeth, getting dressed, making coffee, everything felt so dull for you.

You groaned a bit as you pinched the bridge of your nose, your eye bags very noticeable as your mind just wasn’t in it today. No one could blame you though, all the people of the Firelights knew this was hard for you and rarely ever bothered you unless it was important. You spent a lot of your day alone, just trying to come up with the next best move for the Firelights.

From behind you, you hear the door open slowly. You don’t even take a glance back as you reach to grab your jacket. “I assume this is important..” You say, not even noticing how monotone your voice is.

“Firefly…”

Your eyes widen and your head quickly turns around. You first see his clothes, the same clothes he was wearing the day he disappeared. Then his skin, that chocolate brown skin that’s warm to the touch. Then his hair, the gentle white that contrasts his skin in a beautiful way. Then his eyes, those brown eyes you got lost in so many times before.

“Ekko…?” Your voice quivered as you took slow cautions steps towards him, not willing to believe he’s right here, in front of you, after being presumed dead. Your eyes filled with tears that threaten to spill but you held on just in case this wasn’t real.

“I’m back, Firefly.” His voice is exactly how you remember it, and after that your run into his arms, almost throwing him off his feet. Yet he still manages to catch you and hold you tightly as he felt your tears start to soak his shirt.

“You’re.. back? But how? We all thought you were dead? Where did you go?” Your rambling questions came to a haunt when Ekko’s hand came to your cheek, gently brushing his thumb along it as he gazed at you lovingly.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. For now…” As his voice tailored off he started leaning in, using his hand on your cheek to pull you closer to him. You didn’t hesitate and your lips came together in a tender kiss. It was filled with the hours, days, weeks of longing and loneliness as you had missed Ekko so much.

Ekko’s free hand came around your waist while your hands gently gripped the front of his shirt, like you were afraid he’d disappear again if you ever let go. After a long and blissful few seconds, Ekko pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. His thumb wipes away your tears as he stares into your eyes.

“I missed you, so much (Y/N).” His words filled your heart and made all that time of loneliness disappear in an instant. You leaned in, pecking his lips once more before responding, “I missed you more, Ekko.”

A/N: I’ve had this idea brewing for ages and had to write it. Hope you enjoyed.

[xlatiwritesx]

hi there hope you're having a great day! it's my first time requesting in general and was wondering if i can request lando norris imagine? after both him and the reader decided to hard launch on social media, he brought her to the race for the 1st time and fans absolutely adore her in general. hope this makes sense thank you sm! (reader is a very private person in general)

Mine, Not Theirs | LN4

A/N: sorry if it took me long, but thank you for this request, Anon! This is so cute 😞❤️‍🩹. I hope you like it!!

Genera: Fluff

Words: 1.9K

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

…

"OH MY GODDDDD"

"So she is the one"

"Now we know the reason behind all the smiles during this season's races"

You smiled at all the comments left under Lando's post. You were sat on your hotel room’s bed, hugging your knees and smiling like an idiot at your phone for the past hour.

"Had I known you'd be smiling like this, I would've hard launched us sooner" you heard him speak, but your eyes kept staring at your picture that he posted. The picture that sent the internet into a spiral.

It was simple, you kissing Lando where you assumed his lips would be under his helmet, holding the sides of it. It was all loud and clear. Your smile on your exposed face, his name and number on the helmet. His McLaren suit. It was all out for the world to see, and it made your heart twist in the happiest ways.

"Hey, so" Lando walked closer to you, resting down on the edge of the bed and finally having your attention.

"Now that the whole world knows, I want you to come to races with me, starting with tomorrow’s" he confessed. Your smile slowly faded and you looked away from him.

He knew proposing such a thing when you've just publicized your relationship wouldn't be easy for you. You weren't the most outgoing or the best at dealing with all the press and fame that came from being with someone like Lando.

You looked back at him and saw him already losing hope. You had to try. He deserved at least that. He's been nothing but respectful and supportive of your wishes to keep your relationship private, but now things changed. You wanted to try for him just like he did for you.

"Okay" you said simply, not tearing your eyes from him to watch his reaction. He looked at you blankly.

"Wait, really?" A smile broke on his face. You nodded.

"Like 'hey guys this is the love of my life joining me for today's race' okay?" He asked again, carefully. You laughed and nodded again to reassure him.

"Yes!" He punched the air and you stood up, still laughing.

"Finally" he spread his arms, looking up at the ceiling.

After enjoying Lando's little celebration, you ran to your suitcase. You had to find something to wear. This was the first time anyone would see you. Not to mention the entire world.

A dress? Pants and a shirt? Classy? Casual?

You sat in the pile of your clothes, finding something suitable. Your eyes landed on a white top. Denim mini skirt. You narrowed your eyes. Smiled.

"These two with Lando’s McLaren bumper jacket" you announced to no one but yourself.

The next day, you started getting ready for the race. You curled your hair, did your light make up to perfection, and put on the outfit you picked out the night before.

You got in the car with Lando who was fully aware of your nerves ever since you woke up. He held your hand and that was enough to boost your confidence.

When you reached the circuit, your heart began beating at a dangerous speed. Lando's hand tightened around yours and he looked at you before getting out of the car. You could already see the many reporters there to document everyone's arrival. Your breath got heavier.

"Hey. Eyes on me, okay?" Lando whispered softly. You looked into his eyes and relaxed a little.

"No matter what anyone writes on those stupid platforms, you're mine, not theirs, okay? I'm proud you're the one I'm brining to today's race" he reassured you, hoping it would make you feel even more relaxed. He knew what it was like to be under the spotlight and having his every move scrutinized. It can get hard at times.

You smiled and looked down. He kissed your cheek before opening the car door, the commotion outside no longer muffled.

"Let's go" he ushered and you followed. Still holding his hand.

Even though it was very much light out, the camera flashes were still blinding. You kept your head down because it would've been overwhelming to look straight ahead. You held on to Lando's hand as he lead you to the paddock.

Once inside, you finally look up at the many faces there. Drivers, their families, managers, friends, girlfriends.

Some smiled. Some scrutinized. One Aussie accent cheered.

"Hey!" He greeted excitedly, opening his arms wide to give you a hug. You quickly let go of Lando's hand and hug Oscar.

"It's finally good to see you here" he said excitedly when you pull away. You smiled at him, eternally grateful for making you feel so welcome.

"Thanks, Oscar" you replied shyly. You could feel Lando beaming next to you.

"He goes crazy when you're not around. All he talks about is you. Hopefully he won’t be so annoying today since you’re here" he lowers his voice, playfully punching his teammates arm next to you. You laugh.

Oscar starts talking to Lando about the track and what to be expected. Lando wraps an arm around your waist and you listen to them talk.

It's a miracle that you were actually into the races and Formula 1 in general. You wouldn't have lasted too long with Lando if you weren't. It was his career after all, so naturally it was what he talked about most.

“Okay. We gotta get to the cars now. Shit’s about to get serious” Oscar clapped. Lando nodded and looked at you.

“You’ll be good here? Or you want to watch the race in the garage?” He asked you gently. You looked around at the drivers leaving, all their friends and family choosing to stay at the paddock. You turned to him and smiled.

“I’ll be fine around here. Maybe get to know some new people” you told him and he nodded letting go of your hand to hold your face and kiss you cheek.

You blushed as he walked away, turning to wave at you one last time.

“Take care, Lan!” You yelled and he turned to face you, walking backwards for a few steps.

“Anything for you, my love!” He shouted back, causing people to look. Your heart raced, but your eyes were only on him as he turned back around to continue walking next to Oscar.

You sigh, hoping people would actually be nice. Walking around the paddock, you feel someone tap your shoulder. You turn quickly, faced with a girl a little too pretty.

“First time around here?” She asks. You smile and nod.

“Great! I get to show you around!” She says excitedly, pulling your arm and walking inside.

You’re welcomed by about 5 more faces around a table. People your age. Girls. You felt overwhelmed by their stares, but you promised to give this whole thing a chance.

“We’ve got a McLaren girlfriend everyone!” She announces and everyone starts cheering. You laugh at how silly it seemed, yet so sweet.

“I’m Lily by the way, your co-McLaren-girlfriend” she finally introduces herself. Your smile widens, feeling a sense of belonging somehow.

Lily guides you to the table with five chairs already occupied, you and her filling the sixth and seventh spots. Everyone seemed to be your age. Maybe one or two years younger or older.

“First race nerves?” Another girl asked, taking a sip from her glass. You nodded, still smiling.

“We were all there. It all seems intimidating at first, the cameras, the questions, the race itself!” Another one continued. You frowned a little, nodding along.

You realized you hadn’t said a single word. You really weren’t the best at small talk, but you owed it to them to at least say a yes or no.

“I’m Y/N, by the way” you said finally and they all smiled, acknowledging that new piece of information.

“You should he added to our group chat. We find each other every race day, catch up and have some free food, you know” Lily nudged you and you laughed a little. You hand her your phone, allowing her to do whatever.

When she hands it back to you, you see that you’ve been added to a group chat titled “the gas station ⚡️”. You frown in confusion and look up at them.

“The gas station?” You raise a brow and some of them laugh.

“We give them fuel, now don’t we girls?” One of them raised her brow and you just covered your face and laughed. A little too hard.

“We’ve got the same sense of humor. We’ll go a long way” a girl on your right patted your back as you collected yourself.

“Ugh” you sigh, finally able to hold in your laughter.

When the race starts, you come completely undone. Screaming with everyone and hugging anyone around when necessary. Lando finishes with P-3 and you couldn’t wait to celebrate that with him at the podium.

“You get to celebrate on the podium!” Some of the girls scream and it was just then that you realize how amazing this whole experience has been.

These girls have never met you in their lives, your boyfriend just won against all their boyfriends and they had every reason to be full of themselves, but they were nothing but sweet and lovely to you, making you feel so welcome and for the first time ever since you started dating Lando, you find someone who’d be as excited for him as you. Because they know what’s it like to watch the love of your life win at something he’s passionate about.

“Go go go!” They push you out so you could get to the podium for celebration.

You all get to the track to celebrate with your significant others. You spot a pretty face and curly hair in the crowd. For once, you really don’t care that everyone’s watching. That this could be on live television. You just run, jumping in his arms. He holds you tightly, spinning you around as his sweet laughter fills your ears, muting any other possible sound around you.

When Lando finally puts you down, you basically scream in his face.

“P-3, Lan! That was amazing!” He laughs at your reaction and you laugh with him.

“I knew you were here. I couldn’t let you down” he says and you hug him tightly. He hugs you back.

“You’re my everything. I do this for you” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. You close your eyes, praying your heart won’t explode from pure happiness and content.

Had you just known how amazing everyone would be, you would’ve come sooner. Had you known how much it meant to Lando, you would’ve come even sooner.

You pull away and kiss him, making up for all the time you spent feeling nervous. For not shouting about this from the rooftops. For staying behind on all the fun and welcoming, lovely souls you you met today.

“It seems that today’s race gets a fairytale ending for Lando Norris and his girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N”

[chaosisalwayscrying]

HEELS

⇥ synopsis : you and matt go on a nice date, but after your feet start to hurt

⇥ warnings : none! pure fluff

⇥ extra : lim not the biggest fan of this, i think i did too much plot building but i hope you guys like it !! please send in requests also, theyll be worked on after my scheduled fics come out! 🫶🏻

⇥ masterlist !

⇥ taglist !

   it was just past three pm when matt sauntered into the living room and told you to get ready for a date. at first you were skeptical, normally matt was spontaneous and just took you out in every day clothes, so telling you to get ready was new.

   "get ready?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him from your spot on the couch.

   "yeah, we're going to a fancy dinner, i wanted to surprise you with it." he said, starting to mess with the rings on his fingers, an obvious anxiety tell.

   "how fancy? like slightly more put together fancy or nice dress and heels fancy?" you ask, already beginning to mull over what outfit you'll wear.

   "nice dress and heels fancy, the reservation is at seven so you have plenty of time to get ready” he said, a bright smile now on his face.

you stood from the couch, immediately going to matt and pressing a kiss on his lips. “thanks for this matty, im gonna go shower. i love you” you said, pressing another kiss to his cheek as you practically ran to the bathroom.

matt stood there, a deep blush on face. he never really got embarrassed, but your excitement and words towards him made him want to giggle like a little girl.

—————

matt was banned from his and your shared room while you got ready, since you wanted to surprise him. you even went as far as to make chris come get matts clothes you picked out and lock him in chris’ room.

after you buckled the straps on your heels, you stood and went out of matts room to the floor length mirror in the living room, scanning over your outfit and hair to make sure everything was perfect before letting chris know to bring matt up.

you turned once you heard a door open and quick footsteps coming up the stairs. as matt turned the corner, his eyes immediately locked on you. you made your way over to him, his awestruck expression making you smile.

“hi” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and his hands immediately landing on your waist. “hi” he said back, eyes trailing over your face and outfit, a slight blush creeping up his neck.

you placed a kiss on his lips before stepping back and doing a small spin, letting matt take in your whole outfit. a silk dress that hugged your waist and hips just right but the skirt flowed just a little, and nice stiletto heels.

“you look beautiful, baby” matt mumbled, still staring at you wide-eyed. “are you sure those heels will be comfortable?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing. he knew you hated wearing high heels because they hurt your feet, and he didnt want you to be in pain just because of his date idea.

“thank you, and yes im sure, i’ll be fine for just dinner” you reassured, stepping forward again to place another kiss on his lips. “now come on, we have a date to go on” you smiled, grabbing his hand to lead back down the stairs to chris’ room to go to the garage.

—————

in your opinion, the date was beyond amazing, but you hadn’t expected to be walking around a little park after. now that you’d been walking for so long, your feet were beginning to ache, making it hard to keep pace with matt.

“ow.. fuck” you mumbled, wincing as you stepped forward, trying to catch up to matt. matt, ever the attentive boyfriend, heard you and immediately stopped and turned around to you. he caught the wince on your face before you could hide it, causing his concern to grow.

“whats wrong? are you hurt?” he asked, taking a step to where you were standing and ushering you towards a bench a couple feet away. you immediately sat down and took off your heels, sighing in relief as the ache faded slightly. matt also began taking off his shoes, refusing to let you walk around in heels that hurt you or barefoot.

you werent paying matt any attention until he slipped his shoes on your feet, tightening the laces so they didn’t slide too much.

“matt-” you began, getting cut off before you could even finish saying his name.

“no, it’s ok. i dont want you to walk around in heels that hurt you, or barefoot, you could step on something sharp.” he said, finishing tying the laces and pressing a kiss to your parted lips.

“now c’mon, we can go back to the car” he said, taking your heels from your hands and helping you stand.

your smile stayed on the rest of the night, even as matt helped you into the car, even as he carried you upstairs after you (dramatically) claimed you were too tired to walk, even as he helped you out of your dress and into comfy clothes, even as he took off your makeup and jewelry, and especially as he held you as you drifted off to sleep.

[lexsssu]

Bliss (Diluc)

TAGS: Diluc/Dragoness!reader, smut, pregnancy, parenthood, drabble Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

The world is a dark and tainted place.

Behind its beauty lurked dangers all around, ready to prey upon those who’d lowered their guards enough. Diluc is certainly no stranger to the horrors that hid itself from ordinary eyes, lying in wait for even just a single moment to strike.

He would wake up every single day with trepidation in his chest, constant vigilance being his way of life ever since the day he was awakened to the cruelty of this world. Any day could be his last and any moment could be his final one alive. 

That is the reality he has come to grips with.

And yet, as you walk down the aisle with flowers in your ivory hair, so pure compared to his own flame-colored locks, you are a vision wrapped in lace as you neared him at the makeshift altar (hastily yet carefully prepared by his excited servants), Diluc found himself wondering if he was worthy of this happiness.

The Darknight Hero doesn’t believe in fate. Not when fate showed him exactly what it intended to make of his life, one filled with eternal suffering and a never-ending thirst to rid the world of its evils. 

He doesn’t think much of the disoriented young lady he finds at the outskirts of Dawn Winery, wearing clothes that didn’t seem to hail from any nation in Teyvat. But when he helps her up off the ground, he is met with a pair of innocent golden eyes and he feels something stir within the deepest recesses of his heart. 

Though what it was, he didn’t know at the time.

But now as he kisses you beneath the foot of the statue of Barbatos near Dawn Winery, the scion of the Ragnvindr family knows that despite the darkness and dangers that lurked about, there is still hope. Suffering and sadness existed so that humanity can know what happiness and love are.

And by the archons, he never knew what true happiness was until he’d whisked you off to your new shared chambers within the manor. He knew no other anxiety than that of the uncertainty of tomorrow, but even he couldn’t help but swallow the lump that formed in his throat when you fully bared your body to him for the first time. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, reverently caressing each dip and curve in your body with soft yet firm hands before latching his mouth on whatever patch of skin caught his eye, nibbling and sucking until it turned a pretty pink color. “So sweet and so soft...I could eat you right up.”

And eat you up he did.

The ginger painted your skin with bruises and lovebites, a canvas for his wandering mouth and hands. He made sure that the ones on his favorite spots would take the longest to fade, unabashedly wanting his claim over you to be obvious that only a blind man can’t see that you were utterly his.

“You’re already this excited from my mouth and hands alone? Forgive me for neglecting your most precious place then, my darling. For my negligence, I will make sure to compensate you handsomely.”

You are practically sobbing when Diluc finally relents in his assault and pulls away from you with a final obscene slurp. You could barely look at him straight as he licks off the clear viscous fluid that stained the corner of his lips all the while staring at you with clear desperation and want.

“You taste exquisite, my love. However, I believe it is about time we begin the main act. Shall we?”

And so, the rest of the night was filled with debauched screams, moans, and whimpers of pleasure as your new husband made love to you until daylight peeked out of the darkness. If you hadn’t been draconic in nature you’d have probably passed out by the 2nd hour, but thanks to your other-wordly stamina the two of you kept each other up without trouble.

Thanks to that, it wasn’t any surprise that 9 months after your wedding night, the residents of Dawn Winery welcomed their newest young master. 

Diluc sat at your bedside after you and your son had been cleaned and wrapped in new clothes. His eyes never leave you both as you fed your son his first ever meal, marvelling at the sight of this little creature that both of you created together out of love.

“What shall we name him, my love?”

“I like the name Aurick...Aurick Daemon Ragnvindr”

“A splendid name it is”

Diluc smiles and repeats the name softly under his breath.

The taste of bliss has never been sweeter than where he is right now.

[chipsbarista]

It's Who We Are in the Dark

Ship: Thorin Oakenshield/Bilbo Baggins

Words: 1033

Tags: Chance Meeting, Angst.

Tw:. Depersonalization

Thorin sat there. Just sat there. Looking at the scenery. It was sad really, the leaves were all gone, and it was dreadfully cold, making the grass of the park a murky sort of yellow color. His thoughts were, naturally, racing.

“Mind if I sit here?” Came a soft, melodious voice.

Thorin turned to face the music. Blue eyes landing squarely on green eyes. That’s the first thing he noticed. The all encompassing, ever changing hues of those eyes. The second was the blonde bed of curls on this stranger's hair. Inviting. Like Thorin could just reach out and touch. He didn’t of course, he was not rude. This was, after all, a stranger.

“Go right ahead.” His voice came out gruff from lack of use. Had anyone talked to him today? Other than the barista this morning, who had to talk to him. He didn’t think so. He wished this wasn’t normal.

“Beautiful night, no? Cold to be sure, but beautiful nonetheless.” Said the creature next to him.

What time was it? He looked down at his watch. The watch Dís had got him. Before… Before… Before the incident. “I suppose.”

“I am Bilbo, by the way.” The creature, Bilbo, smiled. “Do you go here? Valeria, I mean.”

He was, of course, referring to the university. Valeria Nostradamus. It made sense, the question. He was sitting (alone) on the it spot of the campus. It was also two in the morning so this guy was also a lunatic. What did it matter though?

“I do.” He could feel his throat closing.

“So do I, I’m a journalism major. What about you?” Thorin wasn’t looking at Bilbo now. He looked squarely at the ground and the murky sort of yellow of the grass.

“Marine Biology,” He replied after a second.

“Oh! I heard the program is really good.” Then he giggled. “What's your name?”

“Thorin.”

“Thorin. Oh! That rolls right off the tongue does it not?” Thorin is looking at him again. He looks so carefree.

A pause.

“Tell me, why are you here?” Bilbo asks. And he means it innocently, Thorin thinks.

“Why are you here?” Thorin asks. Not so innocently.

“Needed to get out of the dorm.” And that’s when Bilbo’s smile fades. “That shoe box drives me into insanity. It feels like all my thoughts escape my mind only to bounce on the ceiling and right back at me.”

Thorin hums. “What sort of things were you thinking about?”

“Who I am in the middle of the night.” Bilbo admits. “It's like I act completely different when no one can see me, right? I dress differently, I talk differently, I think differently. It’s almost as if I am a completely different person. My friends, they don’t know this, but it feels like whenever I’m with them I have to fit this sort of mold.”

And then there is a pause again.

“Who are you in the middle of the night?” Bilbo whispers. And if it weren’t two in the morning, with no one else around, Thorin would’ve missed it. Soft as it was.

“I don’t even know who I am in the daylight, let alone in the middle of the night.” Thorin lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Grief, it has shaken me to my very core. And everything I thought I knew is gone. I have no dreams, no aspirations.”

“I’m so sorry, Thorin.” Bilbo’s hand lands on his. And it is strangely warm, for someone who’s not wearing gloves.

“Who are you in the middle of the night?” Thorin relishes in the warmth of Bilbo’s hand. That’s what he chooses to focus on. Anything to keep him from thinking about her. From reminding him that a year was all it took to forget her voice.

“I am emotion. I am adventure. I am the force of a thousand black holes.” He is grinning now. “Which is to say, I am of the goth persuasion. My friends don’t have a clue though. We grew up all in the same parts, where different is bad. So I grew up in a cookie cutter place.”

“But is that who you are?” Thorin asks, eyebrows scrunched together. He can’t imagine having someone’s entire existence summarized by… clothes alone.

“No,” Bilbo says, “I suppose not. I am, however, my thoughts. And they are imperfect, dark, and twisted.”

“I don’t think you’re imperfect, dark, nor twisted.” Thorin lets it slip past his lips.

“You’ve known me for a collective of…” Bilbo looks down at his watch. “Twenty minutes. I don’t think you’d have a good grasp of who I am. Not to mention you don’t know my thoughts.”

“Share them with me.” A plea.

“Looking through my thoughts is like looking through a roll of film. A film that has been burnt one too many times, and at times, spliced over.” Bilbo says, and it’s rehearsed, as if he has thought this, over and over and over again. Like a film. “Art has many interpretations and I am definitely art. If a hideous thing. And, like art, I am wholly sensorial.

“I often wonder if I haven’t been born as the wrong thing. It feels as though I was meant to be born a star. A literal star. I feel it, that energy surging through my veins. I feel it calling to me, space. Empty and vast. A soul like mine.” Bilbo grabs his hand then, moving it to his chest.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

“Do you feel it? Can you feel what I was meant to be?” Bilbo’s mouth is agape.

“I do.” And Thorin does. He feels that warmth, the warmth of the sun, sees the radiance in Bilbo’s eyes and curls alike. “A star. You are a star.”

Bilbo hums. “Most people would’ve called me disturbed by now.”

“I don’t think you are.” Thorin circles his thumb on Bilbo’s chest. “And I don’t think your thoughts are incorrect either.”

“Not dark and twisted? Not imperfect?” Bilbo’s eyes gleam at him.

“Would you call a star imperfect?” Thorin urges.

“I would call it the highest perfection there is.” Bilbo smiles.

“Then there you go.” And Bilbo smiles further. A star.

[bluejayyz]

Doodle World Awesome Squad from my Mind Palace 👾👾

Design Explanation Paragraphing under the cut !!!! Where I really talk about the how and why of it all ^<^

So excited to post this !! I do hope ye all like it, I was super excited seeing people like/reblog my last post as I've felt a little awkward posting Doodle World art just due to not knowing anyone else who played the game eeeekk.. BUT these are my 'headcannons', I guess you could call them; for the main Doodle World group !!!

> Suzie : The shortest of the group at 5'2"!! Due to the body type used for her in-game, I have always pictured her as being on the bigger side!! Her hair is like a Jellyfish cut, if you guys are familiar with that. Or.. well that's how I interpret what is happening. And I think she looks totally cutieful <3 I draw her with blue eyes for reasons unknown to myself, I have just always given her blue. Her pants are worn/faded at the knees and slightly frayed at the end. Her footwear is closer to boots than runners!! She is in-game, shown to be closer with the player, and that stays to be true in my version of them also.. I think they would have matching friendship bracelets...

> Quincy : Second tallest at 5'7.5" [didn't originally care about the .5, until it was a way to one up the player]. Got rid of those awful glasses he wears... please take them off Quincy.. gave him regular white frames specs instead!! He is a little blind. Also grey-ish eyes?? Again no reasoning. Is on the slimmer side in my mind, not much muscle, because I believe he was a sheltered, rich kid who didn't have to do much- until this adventure, of course. His outfit also doesn't make much sense for travel because well.. I don't think he really expected all this running around we have been doing. His shoes are bright white, and his jeans look brand new. His shirt is pressed !!! ..He has grown on me a lot I can't lie, I never disliked him, though.

> TJ : Tallest of the group!! 6'0"!! He has always just felt tall to me.. maybe that is crazy. He has wider shoulders that sort of replicate his in-game model, as opposed to Quincy, I do believe TJ has worked out/exercised at times :P His outfit is more relaxed, I debated with sweatpants for a while, I do think baggy jeans suit but either or make sense to me. The knees of his jeans are slightly worn, his hoodie is definitely bigg and comfy, and his shoes are definitely made for maximum comfort and running around. Hair change going off model simply because I like this style a lot more, and I think it suits him really well, and then brown eyes !! He also has thicker eyebrows than Suzie and Quincy, no major reason I just think thick eyebrows rock !!!1

And finally, not really necessary;

The Player! Or in this case

> Jay : Standing at 5'7" to replicate myself, Jay is a mix of me and my roblox avatar in looks. She has broader shoulders, which are very much hidden under the baggy hoodie. She also has thicker eyebrows, matching TJ. His outfit is similar to Quincy's on the pure coincide of that is what my avatar was wearing when I first joined Doodle World and finding it funny, I've kept the matching rival outfits since. Despite the similarity to Quincy's clothes, Jay's are very much perfect for this adventure (the main reason being the jumper shirt combo is fake!! It is one item of clothing... he has been lying to you). The jeans are baggy, worn, faded, and fraying in places- but the extra pockets really do come in handy at times. Also a glasses wearer!! As I'm very much far from 20/20 vision.. and of course; train track braces !!! Let's goo !!!!

Well, that has been an absolute ramble session !! I hope that made sense if you did read all that. I mainly just wanted to explain how I see the characters and my reasonings, if any.. behind why. Especially if I want to post more artwork of them all :D!!!

[bananascentedpaint02]

Kamuegi hc’s !!!!

• Izuru has the tendency to follow Makoto around most of the day, when we they’re apart, learning what he likes to do in his free time. Then proceeds to offer him to do those things together, Makoto doesn’t know that fact.

• Izuru tries his best to lay down the pattern of Makoto’s unusual luck to keep him out of potential danger or just any sort of nuisance, but can never fully comprehend it or it’s cycle

• Even if they share the same bed, it doesn’t change how they sleep. Izuru is a still sleeper, if he goes to sleep on one side he’ll wake up on the same one, perhaps tossing once or twice, Makoto -> opposite of that completely. He starfishes, rolls around, will crush Izuru someday.

• Naegi doesn’t realize it himself, but he’s quite worried for Izuru’s wellbeing, making sure he keeps him from being too reckless, even if nothing could stop the insatiable person he is. He‘a pretty concerned that something will happen, which ends him up in a pit of scenarios that most likely will never happen

• As Izuru is usually in his dorm when Makoto goes to his classes, he takes the time to wash, fold and put away Naegi’s stuff, he’s very confused on how those get there every once and awhile

• Makoto makes little crafts for Izuru, he knows he could make anything store bought and wants to to be special, so takes the time to make little crafts for Izuru. Little popsicle stick projects, origami, a drawing, etc. He can’t find those in stores and enjoys giving special things to his boyfriend

• Izuru is a very touchy person when he gets with somebody he enjoys being around. He has been compared to a cat, more of a panther in the case of keeping Makoto down on the couch for hours at a time.

• Following ^^ Izuru shows his love in different ways. Makoto showers him with words of love and appreciation—Kamukura doesn’t find the use in talking when he could do it perfectly fine with something else—while they do have things in common like gift giving, and physical touch, Izuru prefers to do things he knows Makoto couldn’t get anywhere else. A sculpture, a large painting, a letter, food, cue “where did this extra 5 pounds come from?”

Izuru seems to not know 🤔

• Makoto invites Izuru to hang out with his friends as he feels bad his antisocial partner is always distancing himself from a crowd. The first few times he was hesitant, but soon found himself getting his hair done by both Sayaka and Chihiro simultaneously.

• Makoto tells Izuru about his ‘Sibling-Saturday’ where he goes out anywhere to hang out with Komaru, and makes him realize that it’s important and fun to hang out with family. He initiates the same with Hajime, enjoys it a lot but won’t admit it.

• Both of them are a target of pretty frequent nightmares (despair au and out of it), which easily gets relieved by a night wrapped in blankets, whoever the scared was receiving an abundance of cuddles, kisses, hair petting, back rubbing, and reassurance mostly 🥹

• Naegi has many many visible freckles, Izuru gets faded ones whenever he’s tanned from the sun in the summertime.

• Makoto gets Izuru out of the habit of wearing his suit everywhere with quite a bit of coaxing and finally gets to take him out clothes shopping. Kamukura makes sure he knows that he doesn’t mind the suit, but Naegi is persistent. He gets him softer pants, pyjamas, shirts, even socks = basically teaches the poor dude how to relax for the first time in his life 🙁

[they spin around in my brain like a microwave]

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Plastic Hearts - (26)

<<<Prev Next>>>

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It felt like a joke. The box feeling solid in your hands. This had been your destiny, a passed down doll that was now forgotten. But as sad as it was supposed to sound, to you, it held a different meaning.

The loneliness of being stuck here, the plastic box the only perimeter of your life, you tore out of it. Through the spell and your adventure, you were now someone of substance. But when you glanced at the doll next to yours, his pale hair swiped back in place, his face holding the same joy as you now missed. It wasn’t just you who had escaped, he did too.

He had found his freedom here, with you, however long that was supposed to last but those nights where he held you close, that was the happiest you had ever seen him.

The text on the outside was faded, the advertisement ringing in your ears but the plastic box looked flimsy. That advertisement you had heard about yourself couldn’t even hold true for the dolls present within. Against all odds, you and him were meant to break the matrix, to go against the tide.

It felt like a joke because you weren’t let to enjoy the fruit of your decisions. It all just felt a little premature. Your doll held her iconic frying pan in one hand and the other rested on his. There was no rush around you, so you stayed there in the dim warm light, admiring how her head rested on his chest. The smiles on their faces seemed more complete than a smile of your own. They existed in a world of their own, so much so you wanted to preserve it like a snow globe.

This was how your story should have gone. But maybe it was holding the box in your hand or just the fact that reality had not yet totally sunk it but you still felt tethered. That if you could close your eyes and breathe in, you could remember the smell of his cologne. His memories weren’t just memories, he was a part of you. That not even the ocean did justice to the colour of his eyes. There was only one Ken in your universe.

His doll had the surfboard he never used tucked by his side. He was in his beach clothes, it made you smile, he never liked wearing shorts in the real world, but the yearning to witness the sea was tangible in his eyes.

Can we go to the beach one day?

His question resounded in your ear. When he had whispered it in the middle of the night, as you both laid in the tent.

"Aren’t you afraid of the waves?", you had asked him then.

"Tell you’ll take me.", he had turned to you and you could understand that what he asked held a deeper meaning.

"I’ll take you", you said immediately without letting him wonder.

It was his hope, you were his hope and you had let him down. The turn of events too cruel to not get to say goodbye, to not get to tell him that his love was the one thing you can never recover from.

You held the box tighter, it was time to go back home, to the long days of trying to piece yourself back together. But now you could understand why this place had felt familiar. This had been your home in a way, that housed you and kept you safe over the years. You drew in a deep breath to let that feeling of familiarity wash over you. It was rare now. At least it was going to be.

Your world had been pulled off its axis, everything around you only felt new. You checked your watch to see the time only to note that it had only been five minutes since you had entered. It felt whimsical, it had surely felt longer but you heard the soft muffled sound of footsteps behind you. You turned to leave.

“So that proves you and I are meant to be?”

You froze, your breath hitched in your throat, the edges of your vision turning blurry. That voice. You had heard it in your dreams. You could recognize him anywhere. Your eyes settled on the man who stood next to you. His eyes lifting up to meet yours after spotting the box you carried.

Your words died on your tongue, your eyes searched his to then roam over his face, his injuries were no longer present, his hair fell elegantly over his forehead and his smile was full of life. He beamed with a freshness as though he had been revived. There was nothing you could bring yourself to say, there was nothing to question in this moment. All you knew was you needed his presence, so you reached for him like a woolen blanket in a wintry night. You buried your face in his chest as your hands wound across his torso and held him tight, like two magnets coming together. You never wanted to be separated, even if this wasn’t real. His hands wrapped around your body and you felt his warmth surround you.

You didn’t care for when the shop closed, you were going to stay here as long as you could. He didn’t peel away, he was gentle with you, holding you till you needed it, you weren’t willing to move, the rapid pace of your heart beat sobered.

“This is getting so bad now I’ve started hallucinating.”, you mumbled as you placed your cheek in line with his collar bone as you felt his finger hold you closer, as if this was just as much cathartic for him as it was for you.

“You’re not hallucinating.”, he told you softly but it was said with confidence. That you could take his word and believe that your life had changed this very second. As if it was a fairytale.

But was it?

“That’s what an hallucination will say.”, you chuckled sadly unwilling to believe his words as his hands cradled you, slowly swaying you as if this was your living room.

But to your statement, you felt the tender touch of his fingertips tilting your chin up, so you could see him as he dipped his head, for his lips to find yours.

You couldn’t make this up, his fingers slipped down to your neck and you lost yourself in the way the kiss brought you back to life. As if the past week had never happened, that he had just been late from work. He pulled away and your eyes fluttered open to see that he was still here. The feeling of his pulse thrum with new found energy as your hand caught his wrist was the clue to reveal that all this was real.

The mirror behind him captured his reflection, his eyes softened as he admired you, his thumb tracing your cheek as if he was coming to terms with the fact that you were real too.

Ken let you go but you didn’t step away too far. He didn’t either. His eyes didn’t stray away from your face and you couldn’t look at anything else too. He was a meteor shower and everything else was just dust. Your lips were flushed and blood rushed to your cheeks, your fingers traced over the last place his lips had been in unbelief.

He blinked as though he had remembered why he was here, to then pat down his jacket and slide his hands into a pocket. When he pulled it out, in his hand was a little velvet box. It could have been the light but his cheeks turned red as he softly held it out to you. Like a little boy who wanted to see the treasure he had found.

You took the object from his outstretched hand, it didn’t weight much as you held it. The brown velvet soft to the touch, you looked up at him to see the rise of anticipation in his eyes. He nudged his head forward, telling you to open it and so you did. The lid popped open and within it was a crystal that glimmered a mix of colours. It wasn’t a diamond but it was entirely ethereal.

The light made the crystal to light up or atleast allude to it, it had a calming white glow to it. But as a second passed, you could draw a connection between the object in your hands and the light that blinded you in Barbieland. Your eyes snapped to Ken’s just as he his lips parted as though he was about to tell you the reason behind his reappearance, because nothing was making sense so far.

“The blinding light.”, you stated to which he nodded his head. But that didn’t seem to answer any of the questions that lingered in your mind. You edged closer.

“How are you alive?”, you asked, your gaze flickering to where he had been hurt. But to your question, he reached out to hold your hands in his. His thumbs threading over your knuckles as he phrased his answer.

“You’re the hero of my story, Brie.”, he said quietly, his eyes reminiscing the last moment he had held you. A moment he never wished to ever witness. To have to send you away. He never wanted to lose you.

It was solemn, he meant it, everyone in Barbieland could have forgotten and the world could continue to revolve as if it wasn’t a few hours away from being destroyed, but he will always remember.

For so long he had no memories or hopes for the future that it was easy, to live like the rest in Barbieland. But once he got to make a few memories of his own, he couldn’t stop, coming to the verge of losing it all was unthinkable. So as his fingers fiddled with yours, to keep him rooted in the present, there was nothing else he had so surely wanted but to continue making memories with you.

That was all. And that was all he had in him to fight for the right to survive, because he now believed that he deserved it. A life of happiness.

“But how?”, you thought out loud. All you did was be sent back here, Ken was the one who took the step you couldn’t.

“The light from the crystal”, you piece it together. That was the only moment that you could vividly remember, you held the jewel box tighter.

“That protected you from the reset?”, you asked to which he softly shook his head. So if it wasn’t the gem you held, what was it?

“Not quite.”, he narrowed his eyes as a smile spread across his face.

He reached up to the collar of his shirt to pull it to the side. Around his neck was the necklace he had worn before, the one with the heart shaped pendant. But the crystal now looked lifeless and ordinary as compared to when you had seen it before.

“It was your love that was stored with the enchantment.”, he beamed and it took you back to that night, when it changed colours as you spoke into it.

“To remind me I will always be loved by you.”, his eyes softened and a soft gasp left your lips.

“It protected me and those who were near me from the reset. So Allan and weird Barbie still remember everything that happened.”, he explained.

“Wow”, you said almost breathlessly , you needed a moment. That all it took to save him wasn’t a grand gesture or the most valuable object you owned. It was what you had given freely.

So when he had closed his eyes, sure that he was at the end, his world lit up around him. Engulfing Allan and weird Barbie too as it covered the three of them with a pink sheer protection veil. But as he was in it, all he could feel was the depth of your love. Slow motion captures of the times you had thought of him, fast paced replays of the time he had spent with you and as he was there witnessing all of it, he could feel his wounds seal. His heart that had been shattered with the thought of losing you had been put back together.

When the blinding light faded, Barbieland was reset but he wasn’t. He still remembered the warmth of your lips against his and he fell back in relief.

All he wanted to do then was run back in search you that very instant.

“How long have you been here?”, you asked noting that he looked all dressed up.

“Got here a few hours ago.”, he told you.

“Wanted to help Allan settle into Weird Barbie’s dream house. I told them I’ll be back for Christmas with you. If you want to come that is.”, he raised his hands up defensively knowing that Barbieland had caused you enough hurt.

But Allan and weird Barbie were the closest to family you had before you met Melissa, so it wasn’t too hard thinking of visiting them.

But before you could say you would love to join him,

“Actually.”, he shook his head as though he had found the courage he needed.

“I came by your restaurant earlier and they told me you had quit.”, he tilted his head.

“I thought it was time I started my own place.”, you smiled and he inhaled deeply, his face lighting up with a sense of pride for you.

“Finally”, he raised his eye brows.

You held up the velvet box to him, waiting for him to tell you why he was giving it to you although you were now beginning to guess the reason.

“About that.”, he began looking at the box. He reached for you his hands effortlessly finding your waist again.

“I found it in the cave near the lake. It’s a love stone.”, he said.

“It’s shines the brightest when it finds the purest form of true love.”, he told you but the awe from this revelation filled you up with a happiness you could never describe.

Just when you had thought you had lost everything, you were actually receiving it all back. Now that you thought about it, it had glowed every time you were near him

“So our … love.”, you began softly.

“The purest form there is.”, he finished your sentence.

Maybe this was the moment you had been waiting for. That the wish for your dreams had come true.

You placed your hand on his chest, to smooth down the edge of his coat but it was only so that you didn’t breakdown thinking of how utterly hopeless you had felt a few minutes ago.

“I felt so alone the past week”, your voice broke but he pulled you closer, to place his chin on top of your head as he shushed you to calm you down.

“Which is why I wanted to ask if you would like to have me as your forever partner?”, he whispered against your ear.

“For your new business, to share your home with or to just be there to hold your hand whenever you wanted.”, he explained further as you pulled away to see him.

He waited for your answer. It all made sense and only proved you right as the edge of your lip tipped up, his sophisticated attire, the gelled back hair and the velvet box. He was a man on a mission.

There was no reason to think it through, or give it more thought because the answer was already on your lips.

“Yes.”, you say and watched as his eyes light up again.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes.”, you held the sides of his face as you kissed his cheeks, his forehead and his lips in happiness and that feeling doubled when you heard the sound of his laugh.

He set you down half heartedly after giving you another soft peck. He didn’t want to stop but now he had forever. So he intertwined his fingers with yours and walked back to the cashier.

The old man smiled at the two of you as though he knew or maybe he had heard everything. You placed the dolls on the counter and bought them. With one final look at the dolls in the box before you put them into your bag, you exited the store with your own Ken.

With your only Ken.

The city lights sparkled and the breeze felt sweeter than before. He turned to look at you and you knew that you were finally home.

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[thiswasinevitableid]

Back to Me (Sternclay)

A tied yeehawgust prompt winner was "Rocky Mountain High." This fill is NSFW

The Rockies are not impassable. But to get through them requires skill, knowledge, and luck. 

When Joseph was seven, he was on a wagon train in which none of those were present. A guide who’d never done the route, a map by someone who’d never even seen the Rockies, and it was one disaster after another. Their wagon and another were caught in a rock slide; Joseph was the only survivor. 

He’d crawled into the fading sunlight and waited for the rest of the party to come look for him. When the moon came up and he was still alone, even his young brain understood he’d been left for dead. 

That’s where the Bigfoots found him. Curled up and crying in torn clothes, scratched and bumped in a hundred places. He hadn’t been scared when he saw them; he thought he was imagining them. Then he assumed they were just very big, extremely hairy humans. After a short conversation, one of them scooped him into her arms and cooed, “there, there, you’ll come home with us.”

Fourteen years later, he watches the same Bigfoot cross her arms and make a concerned noise in her throat as he sits at her side in the meeting hall. 

“It’s okay, mom.”

“No, it isn’t.” His cousin, Clarence, eyes the visiting group from another Bigfoot settlement in the southern part of the range, “How are we supposed to be confident going through with the marriage if it means sending Joseph off with those who cannot keep one of their own from going feral.”

“That was not our doing. Nor is the fact he remains that way.” The leader of the visiting delegates growls, exhausted, “we have tried everything to bring him back to himself.”

“That’s true.” Joseph glances between his family and the visitors, “yesterday I helped them go through all the written records and consulted with every elder we could find between here and the foothills. Nothing helps. I think it just needs time to wear off.”

Nods from both sides of the hall.

“Three days.” His cousin holds up their hand in a movement that’s half promise, half-placation, “You must understand, as head of our settlement, I cannot risk harm coming to one of ours from one of yours, no matter the cause.”

The visitors agree, and the meeting comes to a close. It’s late enough that most of the attendees head for the homes or guest houses scattered through the village, but a few invite willing visitors to join them for drinks in the brewing caves (a much homier and better lit place than it sounds).

Joseph considers following to try and make a good impression on his future kinsfolk, but worry gnaws at him too much. He wouldn’t be any fun, not when he can’t stop wondering if he’ll get Barclay back. 

When Bigfoots reach a marriageable age they, their family, and the heads of their settlements decide on which other settlement to extend an invitation. Once invited, that settlement may send any interested residents to woo the bigfoot in question. In Joseph’s case, they’d had to choose not only for which other settlement they wanted to strengthen ties with, but who they thought might be open to one of their own marrying a human in the first place. In theory, Joseph would be an easy sell; Bigfoot and human marriages aren’t unheard of, and those happen with humans who haven’t grown up in Bigfoot families. 

Still, he made his case as convincingly as he could. He’s smart, hard working, and while he’s not good-looking by Bigfoot standards, he’s at least tall. Bigfoots don’t have the same concept of men and women that humans do, a fact that had been a relief to him when he realized he was the fore and not the latter. It did mean his aunt has been brewing him a tea that helps put and keep hair on his chest, but it’s not remotely close to what the average Bigfoot has. 

The Southern Meadow settlement agreed to bring any interested suitors his way as soon as Joseph decided on his challenge. When choosing a partner, each Bigfoot is allowed to set a competition or trial to test traits they want in a mate. 

Joseph chose chess. His father had taught him to play, picking it up from the humans at the trading post where he worked. He’d only marry someone who could beat him at it. 

Three Bigfoot from the visiting settlement expressed interest, and he beat two of them easily. Then Barclay had shown up. Auburn fur neatly groomed, clothes suggesting he’d spent some time around humans. Smile sweet and voice deep as the rivers that run at the edge of town. 

He holds up a basket; biscuits studded with huckleberries, “Thought I better bring you something to eat in case this goes long.”

“That’s very thoughtful.”  Joseph finishes setting the board. God, Barclay even smells good. Like mint soap. He adds a playful edge to his tone, “and optimistic.”

Barclay sits down, “Careful, I’m more competitive than I look.” He smiles, showing his sharp teeth, “Especially with the, uh, right motivation.”

The game lasts close to two hours. When Barclay knocks down Joseph’s king, he does so with a teasing growl. 

“Checkmate, blue eyes.”

“Nicely done.” 

Barclay catches his hand, pressing it first to his forehead, and then to his lips, “You really okay with that result?”

Joseph feels the tingle that’s been present in his chest since Barclay sat down, enhanced by his laugh, by his conversation, by how at ease Joseph feels near him (a rare state for him).

“Incredibly.”

Barclay had wanted time to go back to his childhood village and retrieve the wedding crowns his mothers wore. When he’d met Joseph at his home to tell him this, he’d promised to be back within a week. That he was excited to start their life together.

He’d been so sweet and earnest that when he lifted Joseph off the floor and kissed him against the wall, Joseph’s legs wrapped around his waist as he yelped in surprise. Barclay purred and growled about how he couldn’t wait to come back to him, and Joseph realized that while he might not be to most Bigfoot’s tastes, Barclay was ready to eat him up. 

When the other group didn’t arrive a week later, Joseph tried not to worry. Weather could be unpredictable this high in the mountains. When they came back a week late with a feral Barclay and news of an ambush by a human hunting party, he expended two weeks worth of worry in about ten minutes. The anxiety hasn’t gone down since, and he’s exhausted. 

In a last ditch effort to bring him back to himself, they put Barclay in Joseph’s small cabin, in hopes that being surrounded by Joseph’s scent might calm him (and since the bachelor cabins are meant for turnover, they’re easier to repair if he damages them). Even though he hadn’t recognized Joseph when he saw him again. At this point, he isn’t recognizing anyone. The longer this goes on, the greater the risk that he’ll stay feral forever. 

Joseph is rooming with another cousin until it’s safe to go home. He lets himself into the cabin and starts prepping his sleeping pallet. Thinks of Barclay, alone across town; every Bigfoot who’s ever been feral and come back describes it as terrifying. 

He has an idea. A terrible one. But Barclay is worth it. 

Five minutes later, he’s in his own sitting room. The small cabins are made of that, a bedroom, and a small stove for cooking and keeping warm. They’d locked Barclay in the bedroom, just for an added barrier between him and the rest of the settlement. 

Joseph lights the lantern, turning in a circle. No sign that Barclay has been able to get out. The hinges of the bedroom door are a little loose, but when he steps close enough to study them he can see they haven’t cracked or torn free. He listens at the door; low, gruff panting comes from the other side, punctuated by a howl that makes him jump a foot backwards. Barclay is upset, but he doesn’t sound injured or in pain, which is all Joseph can really ask for right now. 

He should go.

Then again, the house is a mess; he’d left in a hurry when the visitors came back to town with their bad news. 

Just a few minutes. Then he’ll lock the door behind him and leave Barclay in the closest he can come to peace. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’s angry. He’s banged his hands and torn his claws into the walls enough to know he’s not getting free. He doesn’t want to be here. There are others of his kind nearby, he can hear them, smell them, but they left him, which maybe is good, because maybe they’re not friends, maybe they’re here to hurt him.

Barclay runs his hands over his face with a frustrated grunt. Why did they put him here? It smells like humans. Humans are not good, they shoot at you and hurt you and hurt your friends. 

Now one is here. He can hear it through the door. It’s been here a while, walking softly, not speaking. It smells like the house. Familiar. Is this place familiar?

He stands at the door, sniffing the air. Still here. He peers through the crack at the side, but can’t see the intruder. He doesn’t like that. If he can’t see it, it’s hiding, and if it’s hiding, it’s hunting him, and if a human is hunting him he will rip its arms off. He can smell it, not see it, and that’s not good, not safe, no, he can’t be here, he’s trapped, trapped, no.

Barclay puts his full weight on the door and gives it a panicked, violent shove. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The crack brings three things into focus at once. 

One: Joseph fell asleep on the padded bench instead of just resting his feet a second. 

Two: The corner of the bedroom door is laying in view.

Three: There is a massive shape at the end of the bench, eyes reflecting the dying lamplight, growl steady and menacing. 

The Bigfoots are his family, his people. He’s not afraid of them. But he also knows exactly how little strength he has compared to any one of them. How small he is. Barclay could snap his neck with one hand. 

Joseph holds up his hands and hoots once, dropping from high to low in tone, to indicate that he’s a friend. 

The growl stops, but now Barclay is moving closer, is at the side of the bench peering at him and sniffing the air. 

Joseph repeats the hoot, then adds, “Joseph.”

Speaking seems to remind Barclay that he’s human and he snaps his jaws and thumps his chest twice. The sign to leave. 

Joseph would, except there’s a feral Bigfoot between him and the door, and even standing too quickly could be misread as a threat.

A Bigfoot who was in their right mind would probably repeat the order, or at least pause to explain exactly what they’ll do if Joseph doesn’t move. But Barclay, impatient, is already reaching for his throat. 

“Mate!” Joseph shrinks back against the cushions. Barclay freezes, so he points between them, nodding, “mates.”

Barclay cocks his head this way and that, looks around the sitting room like he’s never been in one before. Then he crouches, huffing through his teeth as he leans in and sniffs at Joseph’s face, neck, and hair. Joseph focuses on breathing, on keeping calm. Slowly, the investigation turns to affection, Barclay nuzzling the hair above his ear, then nosing down his neck and inhaling deeply. 

“Mate.” It’s barely a word. It’s also the first time he’s spoken in weeks. 

Joseph is equal parts elated and relieved, right up to the point at which Barclay scoops him into his arms and stands, at which point everything gives way to alarm. 

“Barclay, wait, what are-”

“Mate.” The answer is both a noun and a command. 

“Oh.” Joseph’s whole body goes warm as he’s lowered onto the sleeping mat, “yes, absolutely.” 

It's not the reunion he had planned, but seeing Barclay again, seeing some chance he might remember him, makes it hard to care.

Barclay sits back on his heels looking at him like he’s trying to make up his mind about something, and Joseph realizes that the bigfoot is completely naked. 

He’s also sporting the biggest cock Joseph’s ever seen. 

Bigfoots aren’t shy about nudity, so Joseph has ample points of comparison. Up until now, he was confident he could handle all parts of being Barclay’s husband, but that part in particular might take some practice. 

He’s so distracted by the logistics of what’s coming that he barely notices Barclay trying to undo his clothing until there’s a rrrrrrip and it all flies into a corner of the room.

“In the way.” Barclay grunts, pushing Joseph’s knees apart to sit between them.

Joseph risks some flirtation, “I know, but I need them. I don’t have gorgeous fur to keep me warm.”

Barclay crawls over him, places one of Joseph’s hands into the auburn fur of his chest as he blankets him, “warm.”

“Very.” He pets absentmindedly up and down as he watches Barclay bring a hand between them to stroke himself. This is not making his cock any less intimidating, but Joseph is so wet from watching, from the way Barclay is growling and pawing at him, that he no longer cares. 

Barclay tracks his attention and for a moment he looks almost shy, “Good?”

“Yes. I just, um, I’ve never done this before so please be gentle.”

“Gentle.” Barclay repeats, leaning down to nuzzle his face. Then he adjusts, grabbing Joseph’s right knee and (gently) pushing it up, forcing his legs wide enough to accommodate him as he presses the head of his cock into him. 

“Shit” Joseph whimpers, wills himself to relax as Barclay nudges it deeper. His lover is going slow, is clearly heeding his request, but nothing can make up for the sheer difference in size, how his body has to stretch as he pushes deeper. 

When it hits the point where it can’t do deeper, Joseph gasps, digging his fingers into the blanket beneath him. Barclay thrusts again, making him cry out, then frowns at the third of his cock still outside Joseph’s body.

“Th-that’s as much of it as I can take, big guy. I, ooohhhfuck” he grabs at the fur of Barclay’s chest as he leans over him, bracing on his forearms as he starts fucking him in earnest, “I’d take the whole thing if I could, I promise.”

The answer seems to satisfy the bigfoot, a purr rumbling from him as he pets Joseph's hair and nuzzles his face as he slowly, deliberately, fucks him. Joseph imagined his first time often and he never thought it could be this tender, that he could feel so wanted, so safe even as his body ached from the stretch of taking his partner and his legs kicked weakly, as if trying to push him away from the intrusion. 

The wet, obscene sounds of Barclay claiming him take on a faster tempo, Barclay now resting his head against the pillow as he grunts and growls rather than trying to nip and kiss as much of Joseph as possible. It makes sense, now that Joseph thinks about it; if being feral returns you to your basic urges, then there’s really only one point of mating. It’s not a point that can currently be met, thanks to his aunts tea, but Barclay doesn’t know that. And so there’s nothing for Joseph to do but hold on and moan as the thrusts grow more and more insistent and Barclay’s growls of “mine” give way to wordless, possessive snarls that make Joseph want to stay here, open and vulnerable, while his mate takes anything and everything he wants from him. 

Barclay’s hips jerk as he cums with a howlgrowlpurr. He’s still cumming when he starts raising up and off of Joseph, and from the shaking of his limbs he realizes the Bigfoot was restraining himself, not continuing to thrust or chase the last remnants of orgasm because it might have hurt Joseph to do so. 

“Good?” Barclay kisses his forehead, warm palm petting his cheek. 

Joseph reaches up, cupping his cheeks and guiding him into a kiss, feels the purr buzzing between them as Barclay slips his tongue between his lips. 

“Good.” He murmurs, then lays back and lets his husband-to-be kiss him to sleep. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------

He likes having his mate in his arms. Even more than he likes mating with him. There’s no need under his skin, nothing itching at him until it’s satisfied, and so he can just lay here, happy and warm, feeling his mate breathing. Safe. Barclay is keeping him safe, and that is a good feeling. 

His mate is human. He can’t remember why. Every now and then the answer circles in his mind, but it’s shrouded in fog. Maybe there is no reason other than what he’s feeling now, that this body belongs in his arms, that the voice and face of this human soothes him and pleases him. 

He’d fallen asleep, he thinks, after they’d separated and he’d drawn the human against, back to his chest. He thought his mate had, too, but now he’s shifting, breath coming in bitten-back gasps. 

Barclay lets out an apologetic whine and slides his hand over Joseph’s waist, along his forearm to the point where he’s touching himself with frantic, sharp movements. 

“Sorry.” Barclay nudges the hand aside and sets his own in its place, rubbing against the wet skin.

“It’s, it’s alright, you had other things on your mind and you’ve been so restless I didn’t want to wake you-”

“Not a hardship, babe.” He murmurs, dimly aware of the fact he didn’t know those last two words a moment ago. 

“You called me-AH, ohgod.” Joseph twists in his arms, hips bucking forward as Barclay’s fingers dip lower and press into him. The human valiantly tries to finish his sentence two more times before giving up turning his head to moan into Barclay’s shoulder. 

He laughs and kisses at his head, behind his ear, along his neck; it’s fun, making Joseph lose himself like this. He can’t wait to do it more.

His fingers press deeper and he realizes some of the slick coating them isn’t from Joseph, but from him. His dick, already hardening from the way Joseph is grinding back against it, twitches at the proof of how much of him Joseph took. Aches to take him again, so much that it’s starting to hurt, and he growls in the human’s ear as Joseph fucks himself on his fingers, the movement delicious but not enough. 

“Fuck it.” He holds Joseph close and flips onto his back, bringing the human on top of him. Joseph is so light, it’s easy to lift and shift him onto his dick, even at this odd angle. He’s facing away from him, so Barclay doesn’t see the moment he registers what’s happening. But it floods his other senses; the human cries out, clawing at his thighs, muscles of his legs noticeably tensing and kicking as Barclay holds him steady and fucks up into him

He moves one hand down, rubbing Joseph’s dick until he cums with a long, helpless moan. The sound is still going when Barclay grabs his hips and begins bouncing him in his lap, enjoying how limp he goes as he fucks his cum back into him. When he floods him this time, it’s with a growled-out “mine” and a refusal to let the human up until his dick has finally stopped pulsing. 

“Yours.” Joseph looks over his shoulder with a smile, then promptly collapses against his chest. 

Barclay rumbles comfortingly, petting up and down his back and nosing his hair. He should really get up and get a cloth, get Joseph some new clothes. When they’re back in Barclay’s settlement, he wants to buy him something nice and warm to wear in moments exactly like this, when he’s fucked-out and sleepy in Barclays arms. Something blue maybe, to match the color Barclay painted the bedroom last year. 

He loves planning their future like this. Why hasn’t he been the last few days? What was he thinking about instead?

“Oh fuck.”

Joseph bolts awake, looking up at him, “What’s wrong?”

“How long was I feral?” 

Relief as sweet and simple as sugar fills Joseph’s face, “You’re back. I thought I’d lost you for good.”

“That’s not filling me with hope about only having been out a day or so.”

Joseph strokes his cheek, “It’s been close to two weeks. Apparently your group was attacked, it sounds like in an attempt to kidnap some of you. You went feral during the fight.”

“Fuck. Fuck” he looks down at the human with horror, “I made you have sex while I was feral! I’m so sorry, fuck, did I hurt you?”

“You were, um, insistent, but that was as intense as it got.” Joseph shifts upwards so they’re face to face, “I wanted to be with you. Even that version of you. And…well, some part of me knew you wouldn’t hurt me, no matter what.”

“You still want to marry me?” He tries not to sound as afraid as he feels; if Joseph doesn’t want him after this, he won’t argue. But that won’t save his heart. 

“Big guy, I cannot stress how tonight has shown me just how much I looked forward to being your husband.” Joseph kisses him and Barclay sighs happily and melts into the bed, Joseph comforting and warm above him. 

They’re both exhausted, but neither of them feels the need for sleep. Instead, they stay up, talking about all the good things to come, until the sun rises over the Rockies.

[ruiniel]

i think i'm too late so obvs feel free to ignore but i saw alucard smut fic and yelled so... i'm thinking outside (wherever lmao), and "I thought u were dead but you're not!" vibes? >_> (or...anything fluff/angsty alskdfj.)

While we are silent

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x F!Reader

Follow up to A Place To Hide

Rating: Explicit 🔞(in Part II)

Count: 1.3k

Also on ao3

I.

You watch the crowd on this chill November night, each nursing the flicker of a candle as they follow a path toward the village cemetery. Most are bundled in thick layers of clothing, as this time of year has seen the advent of less forgiving weather, far too soon.

Removing your glove, you raise a clawed hand into the air; only to feel... if only you could feel the cold as you did before, if only it could harm you. 

Another, larger hand cups yours as it curls, bringing it down between the two of you. “What happens now?” asks Adrian.

He stands at your side, close enough that you sense his body heat, radiating off him like the memory of sun rays on skin. You crave more of it, always more, all the time, ever since… “The priest will hold the rite for those no longer among the living… and the people, their families, will tidy up the graves of their dead,” you continue in a hollow voice, remembering. You’d missed them, the chatter, humanity. “They bedeck the graves with flowers…” you say, blinking as fading candlelight reflects eerily in your eyes, “with chrysanthemums, or crowns made of evergreen leaves.”

“That sounds… beautiful, in its own way,” Adrian comments, bringing an arm around you.

You tuck yourself into him, ensuring your hood shields your face—especially your eyes. As startling as his own appearance might be, unlike him, you would swiftly give yourself away, and despite recent alliances and the fragile peace his father had forged by the strength of both vampire and human arms you’d been warned and knew it well: the base mortal fear of the unknown always prevails.

In short, you’d like to avoid any unfortunate events, if you can, and he understands this better than anyone.

“Why the candles, though?”

“It’s said they help light the way, guiding the souls of the departed to the other side.”

“The other side…” 

You glance up at him, at the expression of contemplation on his face; every feature is visible to you, despite the shroud of darkness. 

The pinpricks of light are far and smaller now, a procession of wisps wandering away.

“What?” Adrian asks with a drowsy smile, not looking your way. 

“Thank you for joining me here.”

Adrian turns to you, sensing your mood. It never left you; ever since that damned night, when you were desperate and struggling, slashing with your dagger at a face pale in the moonlight. Whenever you close your eyes, you see it—but Adrian doesn’t know. You’d declined to tell him, no matter the gentle probing once or twice, no matter the shiver in his fingers, the clawing anger turned to talons each time. The anger you should feel, but find you do not; anger at the one who took your life, who robbed you of choice. 

“What else do you wish to do? Come, this is your night.” He wears inconspicuous, plain clothing for your excursion in the nearby town, but the fine cut would still draw many a trained eye were it not for night’s shadow.

You stare after the retreating people again, then to your feet, and glance at the gauze of light flooding the dirt road from the nearby tavern. Once, you would have gone in without a second thought, to be happily ignored, and when you were yet human, Adrian by your side was a deterrent to any trouble.

But now… you clench your fist. “Why don’t we return to the castle?” Your hand glides down his chest. You reach, fingers twirling a lock of his pale hair. “I’ve had enough of study for this week…” you smile, trying to change the mood; heart unbeating, yet still, you possess the capacity to feel, and that is a blessing or an anathema depending on circumstance. “I could pose for you if you like.” A grin slips across your face, a ploy against yourself. He’s the one thread keeping you together, and you’re trying. You both are.

The war is over, but still, at times, you catch him staring into nothingness, unobserved; a shadow he does not sense if you’re careful enough until you make yourself known. He looks haunted in those moments, as though a tapestry depicting things foreign to you has been drawn before his eyes. Moments together help him, too, though every so often he still falls prey to his perceived share of guilt for your state. But etching, painting… nothing for nothing’s sake, done together, is what still seems to move him.

You will take from my warmth. Words once spoken gleam brightly in your mind as his arm slides around your waist. “... that is a fine suggestion, I’m forced to admit …” he says with a soft sigh. “... any particular ideas?”

Your forced smile feels genuine now, your body pressing closer into his, the perceived warmth of longing sparking within. “Didn’t you mention, yesterday, that you’d like…”

His eyes widen for a breath, expression swiftly melting into one of tender mischief. His touch glides through your hair, graceful along the nape of your neck. “I doubt I’ll manage more than a sketch if that is to be the case.”

You shake your head as thrill blooms—the full spectrum of human emotions and needs is still there, an unravaged cloister. It feels like a refuge, the last remaining piece of your old self, and you’re grateful for that much.

You disentangle yourself from him; together you take the path unnoticed towards the end of the human establishment, skittering and winding ahead through the forest. The nightly dark affects neither of you, no one is in sight at this hour. It’s you, and him, and the wind in the crowns of withering trees.

The stars have disappeared. The sonorous voice of the woods is mellow, with his help you’d learned to filter out all the much too loud sounds your mind had begun to perceive, and again you can be at ease, finding some enjoyment in the twigs snapping beneath your shoes as you walk. 

Somewhere along the way Adrian begins a soft banter, teasing you with hidden meanings and suggestions concerning your proposal.

“... you’re impossible,” you shake your head, and if nothing else, this, at least, feels right at last. 

“But you like me that way,” Adrian speaks in that mellow tone of his, and you’re about to say something just to feel the heat rising through him, always a delight.

You stop in your tracks, fingers tightening around his.

“... what’s wrong?” But then he feels it also; you see it in his eyes.

It must be the predator instinct he’d said would awaken and the pitched awareness it entails, as you sense the peculiar and disturbing wave of alertness, a sharpening of senses so sudden it aches. Another.

Adrian turns, eyes narrowing. “We’re not alone.”

“I know.” You each listen closely, but there is no breath no beat no warmth. 

Before you know what you’re doing, your palms are set against his chest, pushing him roughly away. Something darts between you, striking the trunk of a tree. 

You stare at the arrow even as the prickling up your spine becomes ice needles, the glimmer unmistakable: silver-tipped, the same used in the war.

Adrian is swifter than you still, but he’d not taken a weapon. And the glimmering pairs of eyes staring at you from the shadows come nearer, behind you—before you. Adrian’s voice fades from your hearing.

“... Vampires; hostile.”

“Finally,” one speaks, and your teeth gnash at the voice even as Adrian’s warmth meets you where you stand, back to back. The utterance is pain.

“... the prince—”

Dread awakens unmatched but for the bite that made you, burning like hot coal pressed to skin; your insides are roiling thunder but you stand as stiff as a corpse, limbs cramped as though the mere inflection has turned you to stone.

“—with my fledgling.”

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

[strangelypenned]

Hello All! I figured since ao3 is down I’d post the first chapter of my fic Heavy Metal Healing here for those looking for something to read! I hope this helps you get by in the drought. If you enjoy this check me out on ao3 under the same username. The next three chapters are up there whenever the site comes back online. Enjoy! 💜

Summary:

When rockstar Eddie Munson and the battle-scarred Steve Harrington collide their journey begins with pain, but quickly turns into something extraordinary. As Eddie embraces his dominant side and Steve explores submission, their connection becomes a steamy oasis of healing and love. Amid pleasure and pain, they rewrite their stories in a harmonious and unconventional embrace. And let's not forget the party and Robin, who never miss a chance to tease them along the way! It's a provocative tale where hurt transforms into hope, and two hearts find solace in the most unexpected places. Get ready to feel the heat!

Chapter 1:

There were a thousand other ways Steve could be spending his Friday night. He had two papers due within the next week, a birthday party to plan, and a doctor’s appointment he was dreading. Yet here he was, allowing Robin to repeatedly stab him in the eye with an eyeliner pencil. Eyeliner he really didn’t even want to be wearing. Going to a show he was about 75% sure he wasn’t going to enjoy.

“Quit blinking Dingus. Unless you want to lose an eye." Robin barked as she jabbed the flat end of the pencil into his ribs.

"I'm only blinking 'cause you're stabbing me in the eye with a sharp object. Also, how much longer is this going to take? If we want to get to Indi on time we need to leave in like 15 minutes." He glanced at the clock over her shoulder. They had been playing dress-up for over an hour and a half now, and the venue was roughly that far away. If they didn't leave soon they'd likely miss the show altogether.

"Fine. Fuck, we'll just call this good then. I got what I wanted mostly done anyways. " She was franticly throwing stuff in her small makeup bag, finally releasing the iron grip she had on his chin. Standing on sleep numb legs Steve took a look at himself in the mirror.

He almost didn't recognize the person looking back at him, Robin had outdone herself. He was wearing her clothes for the most part. A pair of black jeans that fit a little too tight. He remembers watching her cut the holes into them a few weeks ago in a bored crafting fit. A faded black t-shirt that fit a little bit snugly around the biceps. A large golden sun painted across his chest. It matched the yellow polish on his nails, painted by a smiling Jane earlier that week.

What stood out the most though were his eyes. The dark liner drawing attention to the warm hazel. She had even done his hair, It floated around his head softly, looking fluffier than normal. Yes, Robin had certainly outdone herself.

"How do you feel? I didn't overdo it did I? I know it's different than what you usually wear, but you went on that tangent the other day about wanting to change your look. And I know you don't want to touch your move-out savings to do so so I thou-" He caught her eye in the mirror.

Turning he placed his hands on her shoulders, her outfit was a reflection of his. The differences were the denim vest she had covered in pins and patches, and her shirt being actual merchandise for the bad they were seeing. A large 'CC' was pained across her chest above a flaming coffin.

"Robs I love it. You did a great job. It's definitely different, but I wanted that. Now can we please get out f here before we miss the show?" She nodded her head enthusiastically as he tied his favorite yellow sweater around his waist.

"Normally I would harass you about bringing the comfort sweater, but It kind of works. That, and I know I'm pushing you pretty hard already taking you to a metal show and all." She threw the words over her shoulder as they trudged down the stars. Making sure to stand closer to his good ear.

" Well, you've been talking about this group nonstop for like three months now. So I might as well give them a chance. Plus the volume may ring through my thick skull a bit better." His doctor had mentioned something about music with heavier tones being easier to enjoy. Something to do with the base and the vibrations. It was one of the few reasons, other than making Robin smile, he agreed to go. Smiles didn't come as easily after their final round with the upside down.

"I really think you'll enjoy yourself if you give it a chance Steve. She gave him a knowing look as she buckled herself in. Probably picking up on his thoughts with that freaky telephony thing they seemed to have ever since the Russians.

"I promise I'll give it a chance Robbs. God knows I could use some fun," he mumbled the last part as he backed out of the driveway. She laughed at his words as they coasted up the street, hopefully heading for a much-needed night of fun.

🎸

According to Robin's hour-and-a-half-long lecture about the band, they were extremely lucky to be seeing them at this venue. Normally they played for significantly larger crowds, but this is where they had done one of their first shows. They tended to perform here whenever they were in town for nostalgia's sake. It being such a small place meant tickets were normally gone in a flash. Robin, the lucky bird, had won some radio contest. So not only did they get to go to a sold-out show, they got to go to a sound check and a meet and greet post-show. Truly the pinnacle of luck.

He was glad they would be arriving early. This would allow him the chance to survey his surroundings before the crowd set in. His nerves being shot ever since the final battle, as the kids had started calling it. Either way, being able to spot all of the exits before the show started and the people packed in helped. He felt some of the ever-present tension in his body abate at the thought.

He allowed himself to be tugged along by Robin who was all but skipping in excitement. It was nice to see her so amped up. Her excitement tugged at the corners of his lips, and he caught himself chuckling as they grew closer to the venue. The place was a converted bowling alley that still had a few lanes for guests to use before and after shows.

"Did I tell you we even get two free drinks? The royal treatment I tell ya. Must remind you of the good ole days." alluding to the high school nickname he grew to detest with time. She knew better than to actually call him it though. Something about it rattled his heart in the most unpleasant of ways.

"You didn't mention the drinks bird brain. Here I thought I'd be shelling out for overpriced beers. " She gave him a dead look over her shoulder. Both of them knew that he hated the taste of beer and mostly drank it for appearances in school.

They stood in line behind a handful of people, a select few also had early entry tickets. They were snapping bright red bracelets on the wrists of those with VIP entry.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, they were standing in front of a long bar. Robin was shoving a brightly colored cocktail into his hands. He had checked out again. A gift left behind from his fourth concussion. He looked at Robin with a questioning frown.

"It was about ten minutes this time." She rattled off looking at the watch she had taken to wearing when the checkouts had started. That was shorter than the last one so at least there was that. He had grounding tips for when he was at home or driving, but they tended not to work when out and about.

He nodded sluggishly and began to look at his surroundings. Ten or so people were floating around the space while a few people tinkered with equipment on stage. There were doors that led to what appeared to be a balcony, probably a smokers section. The bowling lanes glowed in various neon shades of pink, blue, and purple. They weren't in use but still shined brightly to the left of the stage. And there was the exit, perfect. He felt the slight tremble in his hands ease up when he located the doors.

"Hey Robs I'm gonna go take a quick smoke break and I'll be right back okay?" She looked at him with a question in her eyes, 'Do you need me to come?" He shook his head softly and gave a tired smile before heading for the balcony. He had quit smoking for a while at one point. But after the final showdown, late at night when the sounds of the upside down were loudest in his mind's eye, he found relief in the smoke.

As he stepped outside he noticed the air had picked up a slight chill. He set his drink down and quickly tugged his yellow sweater overhead. The worn fabric brought a level of comfort he rarely found in his closet these days.

Tugging his cigarettes out of his pocket and placing one between his lips, he came to the abrupt realization he had left his lighter in the car. He let out a quiet 'fuck'.

"You need a light?" A melodic voice asked from off to the side of him. He felt himself flinch, he hadn't noticed anyone else outside.

The link since ao3 is now back online:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48088879

[sephirthoughts]

have a little blurb of something i'm working on to go with these screenshots

CW: reference to parental trans/homophobia

Identity

(working title)

“Hey, do you remember that time my dad came home early and caught us with our shirts off?” 

“Yeah,” he said, with the very slight upward inclination of the lips, that counted as a beaming smile for him. “He was furious. He made us sit and read scriptures about the sin of lust, till my mom came to pick me up.”

That was how they did this dance. She’d ask ‘do you remember’ and he’d smile and say yes. Offer a few details back, that proved he did, indeed, remember. Because it was easier than telling her that he remembered those things like a story someone told him, not like actual events that happened to him. That half the time he didn’t actually remember, at all. That he couldn’t even remember his mother’s face.

Tifa laughed, her pretty sparkling laugh, that felt like the warmth of a hearth on his skin. “I bet he’d have been even madder if he’d known what we were actually doing.” 

“Probably,” Cloud’s faint smile faded. 

From what his memory indexes said, Brian’s attitude toward Tifa’s identity had been…backward, to grossly understate it. It had escalated to using slurs, once, when she got her job as the town guide, and started wearing the cowgirl outfit, but never past that. Brian was backward and ignorant, but not really violent. Which was lucky for him. His teenaged daughter probably could’ve kicked his ass, even back then.

“It…must be complicated, thinking about him, now,” he ventured.

She nodded. “That’s a good way to put it. I like to think one day we would’ve patched things up, but…I guess we’ll never know. He never got a chance to be sorry, and I never got a chance to forgive him. Not like your mom, who was totally supportive from the beginning.”

“I think it’s harder for fathers to let go of their sons, than it is for mothers to let go of their daughters.”

“That’s charitable of you to say, but we both know your mom was the only one in that town who even tried to understand, let alone help. She was the one I’d run and cry to, after me and my dad had a fight. She even sewed us matching outfits, so it’d be less obvious when we traded clothes.”

“She was…really wonderful, wasn’t she?” 

It was more of a literal question than a rhetorical one, which made his stomach ache with something hollow and cold, that wasn’t exactly grief. How could he grieve for people he didn’t know? He was just…empty.

“She really was,” Tifa said wistfully. A beat or two passed in silence, then she seemed to come back to herself. “Hey, don’t you have work tonight? You better get going. You’ve got a reputation to build, Mr. Merc!”

“Ah—you’re right. I’ll see you later, ok?”

“I’ll be here,” she said, smiling and waving cheerfully as he hurried out of the bar.

He cleared out the nest of monsters in a half hour, then had nothing to do but poke around the scrapyard. Maybe he’d strike gold and find enough of an old bike to do something with.

He was peering curiously into the deep shadows, behind a suspiciously new and well-oiled iron gate, when heard the intentional scrape of a boot behind him. He froze, hand readied to grab his weapon. 

“Cloud.”

The intruder addressed him by name, so it must be someone from the town. But something about that smooth, serpentine voice made him shiver, like there had been a sudden blast of cold air on the back of his neck. 

He wheeled slowly around, to see an extremely tall and hyperbolically fit man, with a long, black, leather trench coat, that he wore open, with a harness strapped across his bare chest. He was standing backlit by a security light, which made his waist-length silver hair look like it was actually glowing.

Cloud’s eyes dropped to his thigh-high boots and black leather breeches, then back up to the man’s eerily beautiful face. His golden brows lowered fiercely.

“Who the hell are you?”

[caffinedragon]

"Ugh." Anders scoffed as Fenris and Gabriel(Hawke) left together talking about the book Fenris had recently finished. "How can he stand being around him? I don't understand how he can be so friendly to someone who hates who he is."

Varric sighed as he pulled out ink and parchment so he could write a few letters to warn them of some shady shit going on that Gabriel had observed.

"It's because he didn't make being a mage the center of his whole personality, Blondie. So when Fenris voiced his wariness of magic, he wasn't offended by it."

"Excuse you?"

Varric stared him down unphased, "Did i stutter?"

"I did not make being a mage my entire personality."

"Uh huh." Varric replied sarcastically, "Says the man who cant go five minutes without discussing magic, how mages are suffering, or about how he had to live locked up in a tower."

"Gabriel talks about magic too!"

"The last time Drake talked about magic was when Fenris asked how he was able to fight so well with his messed up leg. And the time before that was when Merril asked him how he was able to step in and out of the fade like he does. Both times were because he was asked a question in regards to his own magic not whole unprompted rants about how oppressed mages are."

"That's because we are being opressed! We are treated as the scum of the earth and he doesn't seem to care! And now he is spending time with a man who hates our kind! What is he thinking?"

Varric pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Fenris doesn't hate mages, he hates magic and what it has done to him. If he hated mages he wouldn't give Drake the time of day. Or Merril, or even you for that matter."

"My question still stands."

Varric groaned in frustration that was quickly turning into anger.

"It's because Fenris is able to look past his magic and see the man underneath. Unlike you."

"I can see past his magic."

"Oh yeah? Then why did his brother turn to the man who 'hates mages' and ask him to look after him instead of you? Huh?"

Anders looked down at the table, visibly gritting his teeth but said nothing.

"Exactly. "

"I still don't understand what he sees in him."

"It's because i can trust him with the darkest parts of my past."

Varric watched as Gabriel walked back into the room, his long white hair in a braid he flicked over his shoulder as he entered.

"Gabriel!"

"Hey Drake, figured you would be back." He smiled as he held up the simple cane sword the man had left behind.

"Thank you." He kissed the top of his head as he took it from his hand. "Wouldn't get far without it."

"Anytime."

"And before you ruffle your feathers, Warden,..." Gabriel slipped his left arm out of the long flowing green robe he had been wearing and removed the long cloth glove that covered the entirety of that arm. Emblazoned on his skin from finger tip to shoulder were the same markings Fenris had. They glowed a faint green like the color of the fade as he held his arm out to catch the firelight. "Look familiar?"

"How did you get those?" Anders asked in disbelief.

"The same way Fenris did." He answered as he put the glove back on and righted the left arm of his robe. "From the age of 10-14 i lived as a magisters pretty doll. 14-16 i was her favorite experiment resource. Unfortunately for her, she didn't anticipate the dragon that hid inside my blood when she carved these into my flesh. Fortunate for me, she and her line did not survive the destruction that form caused and thus i have no one trying to drag me back."

"What happened?"

He chuckled, tired. "That is privileged information you have not earned."

"And Fenris has?"

"Yes." He agreed nonchlantly.

"Why him and not me? Why do you trust a mage hater and not a fellow mage?"

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and looked at him like he was an idiot. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!"

He looked at Varric with a "Are you seeing this shit?", expression.

Varris just shrugged and went back to writing.

"Your a fucking idiot." Gabriel sighed as he turned to walk toward the door. "And I am too tired and overstimulated for this."

Anders grabbed his arm as he went to leave. "I am not done talking to you."

Varric watched as Gabriel's eyes went from blue to slitted gold as smoke began to roll out between his teeth. "You better let go of my arm before i remove it from your fucking shoulder."

"No! I demand an answer!"

The growl was all the warning Anders got before Gabriel rounded on him, grabbing him by the throat, lifting him up and slamming him down onto the table.

When he got up in his face, his were eyes shining like gold coins and silver scales along his neck and jaw were reflecting the firelight like mirrors. Gabriel roared at him as Anders clutched at his wrist trying to remove his hand from around his throat to no avail.

The fact that Justice had not tried to take over by then was telling as Anders began to panic.

"You have no right to demand shit from me, mage!" Gabriel yelled, his teeth pointed and sharp like the dragon form he took. "This is the exact reason why I can't trust you!" Anders tried to get up but he slammed him down again. "You think your entitled to my time and attention just like the Magisters who enslaved Fenris and I! How do i know you wont take advantage of me when i disassociate and cant respond? Huh? Can i trust you to stop if I end up having a flashback in the middle of having sex or are you just going to keep going?" Anders stilled, his eyes wide and skin paling as the words sunk in. "All you have shown me so far is that I am a fellow mage that you want to fuck and nothing else!"

Varris saw out of the corner of his eye, Fenris entering the room from behind him, his hand on his blade. He raised his hand in a wait motion and Fenris stilled.

"Fenris see's me!" Gabriel continued, "He understands me! He got to know me! And that is why I chose him and will continue to choose him until the day HE tells me he no longer wants me."

Fenris then quietly settled next to Gabriel and rested his hand on the hand that was around Anders neck, "And since I can not bear the thought of living without him, it will not be anytime soon."

"So you just found yourself a whole new master then, slave?" Anders spit out.

A knowing smirk appeared on his face before he turned to Gabriel, placed his hand on the side of his face and turned it towards him. While Gabriel still held Anders down, he kissed him, gentle and slow. When he pulled back, Gabriel was calmer, his eyes focused on Fenris as if waiting for a command.

In a soft but stern tone, Fenris ordered, "Let him up."

And Gabriel obeyed.

"Come here and rest against me."

And Gabriel did, burying his head into Fenris's shoulder and nuzzling into it like a cat. Fenris locked eyes with Anders as he reached up and gently held Gabriel's head, "It seems to me, that it is the other way around, mage. "

"What did you do to him?" Anders snarled as he got off the table.

"Earned his trust and made him feel safe. Same as he did for me. Simple as that." He then looked to Varric ignoring Anders attempt at protest that were squashed when Gabriel snarled and blew smoke at him. "We apologize fro the commotion Varric. It seems it is time i get him home."

"No problem, Broody. You take good care of him. Have a good night."

"Of course. You as well." He then began leading Gabriel back out the door and out of the tavern.

"Did you see that?" Anders squawked angrily. "He did something to him!"

"He didn't do shit Blondie, it's a kink dynamic. His 'obedience' is consensual. Some people just need to be able to turn off their brain for a while and let someone else do the thinking for them. Had you actually proved you were a better option then Fenris you might have been in his place instead."

"But he's not even-"

Varric slammed his hand down on the table and leveled Anders with one of his rare fuck around and find out glares, instantly shutting Anders up.

"I am going to tell you this once, and only once, Blondie." Varric spoke in a cold tone. "Gabriel doesn't care your a mage. He cares about whether or not he can trust you in his vulnerable moments. Every time he has tried to open up to you about his past you have talked over him or dragged the conversation back to what you wanted to talk about and when Fenris opened up about what happened to him, you tried to explain to him what he was supposed to feel. He was testing you from day one and you failed every single time. Fenris however did not. Shit, he even worked past his own bias to see Gabriel as the man he is and now they are together. Perhaps, if you had gotten your head out of your own ass, you might have been in his place but you didn't. So i suggest you grow up, move on, and leave them alone."

"And what do you plan on doing about it Varric?"

"Call his dad. The Grey Warden Commander and Hero of Ferelden, as well as your old boss. And you know how protective he is of his boys."

Anders face paled and all fight left him.

"That's what I thought. Now i suggest you go back to your clinic. I have work to do."

[sn-ryter]

The Last Thread

The room was bathed in the dim glow of the evening sun, its amber light stretching across the sterile walls like a final embrace. Samuel lay on the bed, his breaths shallow and uneven, the rasp of his chest filling the silence. Clara sat beside him, her hand cradling his, warm and steady—a lifeline in the churning tide of his last moments.

“Tell me your name again, dear,” he murmured, his voice fragile but laced with a flicker of warmth.

“Clara,” she replied softly, leaning closer.

“Clara…” He let the name linger on his tongue, his lips curving into a faint smile. “My mother’s name was Clara. Isn’t that something?” His eyes, dulled by age and wear, glistened with memory as they drifted toward the ceiling. “She had the gentlest hands. Always sewing, patching up the holes in our clothes or stitching quilts to keep us warm in the winter. She used to hum while she worked… a melody I could never quite catch. Funny how some things slip away from you, no matter how tightly you hold on.”

His voice trembled, and Clara gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “What else do you remember about her?”

Samuel closed his eyes, his lips parting as if to draw her image from some far-off place. “She used to say, ‘Every thread has a purpose, Sammy. Even the ones that seem frayed.’” He chuckled faintly, though the sound cracked under the weight of his emotion. “I think about that a lot these days. Wonder if all the pieces of my life really fit together the way she believed they would.”

The air between them felt heavy, saturated with a lifetime of unspoken words.

“I grew up in a small house,” he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. “The kind where the roof leaked when it rained, and the walls seemed to sigh in the winter wind. But it was… ours. My brother, Tommy, and I… we were inseparable back then. We’d run barefoot through the fields, chasing fireflies until the stars came out. He used to laugh so hard it made me laugh, too.” Samuel’s voice faltered, and his chest hitched. “He died when I was nineteen. Car accident. Just… gone.”

Clara pressed his hand to her chest, letting him feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. “I’m so sorry, Samuel,” she whispered.

“I never told him,” Samuel said, his voice breaking. “Never told him I loved him. I thought we’d have forever, you know? But forever… forever is a lie we tell ourselves to avoid the truth.” His tears slipped silently down his face, tracing the lines of a lifetime’s pain.

Clara wiped them away gently, her touch tender and unyielding.

“There was someone else,” he said after a long silence, his gaze distant. “Evelyn. God, Clara, she was everything. Golden hair, a laugh like music. We met at a carnival—danced under a string of lights while the rest of the world melted away. I told myself I had all the time in the world to love her, but…” His breath hitched again, and his face crumpled. “I let her go. I thought my dreams were more important than she was. And by the time I realized my mistake, she was gone.”

Clara’s throat tightened, her own tears pooling in her eyes. “Did you ever tell her how you felt?”

“No,” he rasped. “I thought I’d have another chance. But life doesn’t give you second chances, does it? Only regrets.”

The light from the setting sun dipped lower, bathing the room in shades of gold and shadow.

“My kids…” Samuel murmured, his voice weakening. “I worked so hard to give them everything. But I missed so much. Birthdays… school plays… those quiet moments where they just wanted me there. Do you think they’ll remember me, Clara? Or just the empty chair at the table?”

“They’ll remember your love,” Clara said firmly, her voice trembling with conviction.

Samuel turned his head toward her, his faded blue eyes searching hers. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” she whispered.

His lips quivered into a faint smile, his body sinking deeper into the bed. “Every thread has a purpose,” he murmured, repeating his mother’s words as though they were a prayer. “Even the frayed ones.”

The room grew still, his breaths slowing to a fragile rhythm. Clara tightened her hold on his hand, her tears falling freely now. “You’re not alone, Samuel,” she said softly. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

His chest rose one last time, then fell in a long, peaceful exhale. The quiet that followed was deafening.

Clara sat with him for a long while, her hand still holding his, even as the warmth began to fade. She looked at his face—softened now, as though the weight of the years had finally lifted—and felt the ache of his absence settle in her chest.

“Rest now, Samuel,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You’ve stitched a beautiful life.”

Outside, the sun sank below the horizon, casting the world in twilight. Inside, Samuel’s final thread had been woven, leaving behind a tapestry rich with love, loss, and the echoes of a life fully lived.

[greenbird809]

Ever wonder what it's like to drown? Story of opposites. There's peace in water. Like it's holding you, whispering in low tones to let it in. And every problem in the world will fade away. But then, there's this thing... in your head, and it's raging. Lighting every nerve with madness.

The river was calm, gentle as it glistened in the pale moonlight. But it was cold. Jinx hissed and retracted her toe from its reflective surface.

She stood on the bank, fickle blades of grass tickled and stained her soles with dew. Her clothes lay in a messy pile beside her and the air was sharp against her naked ashy skin. The smell of ripe fruit from a nearby berry bush swirled and blended with the pollen in the air as it wafted up her nostrils with every sharp inhale. She wrapped her arms around her middle like a blanket.

What was she doing? Washing away her sins? Drowning? Saving lives by removing a problem?

With another ragged breath, she plunged her foot into the water. It came up to her knee and felt like being swallowed. She pushed further into the river until it was licking against her collarbone. A shiver wracked her body and a gasp escaped her lips. The voices were like static and she could almost see Silco standing opposite her, his image fuzzied and faded like a recording on a scratched disk. His eyes were full of care as he beckoned her further into his embrace and-

“What are you doing?”

Jinx paused and Silco was gone. She sniffled and craned her neck back towards the bank to see Lux stood there with her arms crossed. The blonde was wearing nothing but a loose white t-shirt and pyjama shorts. Her hair messied from bundling up against her pillow whilst she slept.

“I don't know,” Jinx answered candidly, “When I felt… confused… Silco would always help me find who I was.”

Lux’s expression softened, “And now?”

Pain flashed across Jinx’s face and she subconsciously brought her hands together in front of her, “Now he's gone, and I'm alone, again. And it's all my fault, again.”

“I can't say what is and isn't your fault. But I can say you're not alone anymore,” Lux said, stepping out of her shorts and taking her shirt off, “I'm here now. Forever and always.”

Jinx could do nothing except watch in fascination as Lux discarded the clothes into a pile next to hers and took the plunge into the freezing water fearlessly. Lux reached out and took a hold of Jinx’s hands, offering comfort.

“I'm a jinx. I'm a problem, and we both know it. I'm going to mess everything up again,” She nestled her head into Lux’s shoulder, “I-I’m sorry.”

“It's okay,” Lux whispered, “I've got you. Anything you need.”

“I don't know why I muck it all up. I don't wanna. I only wanna help,” Her voice was hardly more than a muffle into the other girl’s skin. “Please…”

“You're helping. You help me everyday. Without you, I would have fallen apart by now. You've given me hope again and without you, well, I think this village would be a little bit darker,“ Lux continued, “Those kids you created those toys for? Did you know they've been hounding poor Mira to ask if you can teach them how to make their own?”

“They have?” Jinx hated the way her voice cracked.

Lux smiled and held Jinx in front of her, “Yeah.”

“I don't want to jinx it any more.” She confessed.

The mage smiled, “What did Silco use to do?”

Jinx chuckled breathlessly with tears blurring her vision, “He’d give me some big dumb speech about becoming who I was always supposed to be. How I need to let go and be reborn anew. He'd dip me under the water and…”

“You're free here. You can become who you want to become here. Who do you want to be, Jinx?”

“... I want to belong. I want to be Powder. But Powder is gone now. I'm all that's left. Jinx stands for Jinx,” She smiled, broken, “I'm perfect.”

Lux shook her head, “No, you're not who he said you are. You're Jinx, you're my Jinx.”

“Blondie…”

Jinx felt Lux’s hand on her cheek and she grabbed it softly. A thumb wiped away her tear tracks. “You're my light.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, peering through them and into their exposed souls. Jinx rested her forehead against the other’s, and their noses bumped as their mouths connected. They closed their eyes and melted into each other.

The link between them felt like electricity and fire running through her veins. She couldn't quantify the feeling as anything other than love. And as they parted, Lux’s hand remained tangled within her blue hair and she tenderly lowered her into the water.

With a final look into Lux’s loving eyes, Jinx closed her own and the water swallowed her once again.

Underneath, the voices were quiet and she realised who she was. This village and Lux, her sunshine, had wormed into her heart in such a short time with their openness and friendliness. They were good people and she cared for them all like they were family.

And she would protect them all. She would jinx any that would dare to rob her of this feeling ever again.

Lux pulled her back from the water, reborn, and into a hug that she returned instantly. Jinx stands for protector.

Ever wonder what it's like to love? There's peace in love. Like it's holding you, whispering in low tones to let it in. And every problem in the world will fade away.

And it will.