#word count: <1k

[swsapphics-ao3feed]

by Kartaylir

Mara Jade's investigation into an Imperial Governor runs into a rather unexpected problem: Princess Leia Organa.

Words: 1086, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Leia Organa, Mara Jade

Relationships: Mara Jade/Leia Organa

Additional Tags: Cunnilingus, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting

[allie-writes]

pressure and the deep sea

Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Relationships: None Other relevant tags: Character Study, Nightmares, Panic Attacks Word count: 509 Language: English Read on: AO3 | Fanfiction.net

When he dreams, he is suffocating at first.

CWs: asphixiation, drowning, death-imagery, blood and injury (canon-compliant and non-graphic), past trauma, panic attacks

When he dreams, he is suffocating at first.

It is pitch dark, and there is blood in his eye. The air is thick and stifling; his lungs burn with the effort it takes to continue breathing. In and out, in and out, through the pressure on his chest. In and out, in and out, despite the walls closing in on him. In and out, in and out.

From above him, a rhythmic tchk-tchk-tchk cuts through the roar of blood in his ears. Digging: above him, inside him, shovel into dirt, dirt into body, body into dust, and ashes to ashes. The walls tremble and come ever closer before the ceiling begins to sink as well and his breaths grow shorter with it. Anything to force the dwindling amount of air into his lungs, anything to keep on living, anything to remain defiant.

Aspiration passes his lips in hot and moist and disgusting bursts. It condenses, right in front of his face; then, it begins to drip. Water dribbles onto his cheeks like somebody else’s teardrops, fat and heavy and salty. It burns where it gathers in his empty eye-socket, stings in the bruises littering his body, and eventually, it drowns his rasping, desperate breaths.

There is still air, somewhere, but he can’t seem to find it. His lungs are already waterlogged.

He chokes on the river that pours into his mouth, then coughs around the waves that are forcing themselves out of his respiratory system. His bones feel hollow and brittle where they rattle inside his clammy, soapy skin—a water corpse in the making, trapped inside a pretty, shrinking aquarium.

He is not yet submerged, and still, he drowns. Above him, muffled, rain hits the ground. No one is coming for him; he cannot remember much of anything, but this, he knows for a fact. This is the last stage of abandonment, of being discarded.

(Sometimes, he will dimly remember that someone did come, back then. But in his dreams, they don’t.) He grows delirious as his lungs begin to give in. It’s a losing battle now: no space, no air, only water and dirt and blood, and pain, and he drowns, he drowns—

And Qifrey sits up.

The room around him is dark (like the inside of a coffin—), his shirt soaked in cold sweat (like rainwater—) and he can’t seem to recall how to breathe normally for a few seconds (because he is still being suffocated, because he is still drowning—). His fingers are numb.

He is safe. He is home.

The girls are sleeping just down the hall, tucked into their soft beds. Olruggio is probably awake in his own rooms, tinkering the night away. The blankets pooled in his lap are warm and sweat-damp and heavy, and the air in his room is fragrant and plentiful. In the morning, they will have a breakfast of bread with jam and hot tea.

His entire body trembles as he wraps his arms around himself. Tears prickle behind his eye.

Breathe. In and out.

In and out.

[siriuslygay1981]

Barty shifted to the side, his heart beating rapidly. He felt shaky and like he might throw up. Clearing his throat he let his eyes jump to where Evan sat next to him casually.

He looked fucking beautiful,like always. His blonde hair was ruffled by the wind, his face slightly flushed. Barty watched with no little amount of affection as Evan closed his eyes and smiled.

"I love you." The words were out of his mouth before the words even formed in his mind.

The leafs around them rustled, the wind pushing against them. Bartys mouth open and closed, his stomach forming a black pit.

Fuck.

"uh.." Evan said awkwardly

"oh-" it felt like the word was punched out of him. Breathless and full of pain.

"yea...no YEA i-i was just- mm I'm going to..."

His limbs felt weird, his whole body felt out of place, his cheeks were warm with embarrassment. He cursed himself out mentally as he scrambled up and ran to the castle with a crumpling face and a breaking heart.

He didn't hear the faint call of his name too busy berating himself, he wiped at his face angrily and forced himself to keep going.

Way to go, ruin another friendship you idiot

__

Evan sat at the lake dumbfounded.

What the fuck.

He stared at the spot where Barty bolted from, his eyebrows pinched together. His heart thudding against his chest wildly, he pushed his hair out of his face as he tried to process everything that just happened.

What the fuck.

Part two

[kakushino]

Haganezuka's apprentice - Fem!Reader

You'd heard about his temper, or rather, you heard his temper, long before you first saw him. The need for new swordsmiths went beyond personal wants and so, you found yourself as one of the would-be apprentices under masters of their trade. Your master though? Haganezuka Hotaru

Since you would be entering the Swordsmiths' village proper, as a citizen and not a visitor, you had received your own hyottoko mask, as ugly as the rest of them, yet crucial for its anonymity. You were grateful to it though, because it hid your scowl during your first few weeks under Master Haganezuka's dubious tutelage.

"Not like that, you stupid shithead!"

"This is shoddy as hell. Again."

"Useless brat."

"If Kamado got a sword like this, he'd be coming back for another in a day."

It was all you could do to not blow up on him. As it was, you just shut your mouth and tried to keep up. You weren't even sure if he knew you weren't a man; after all, the masks did distort even voices.

You understood though, really. He was forbidden from touching the forge until he healed up and just tried to focus his energy on you, but he went about it completely wrong. 

Every insult and snide comment fueled your wrath. It was time to show him what you were made of, what you learned and what you could do. 

With bandage-covered hands from the blisters and rawness of overworking, you did what you did best as of late - forge.

The day you presented your first 'passable' wakizashi (passable for him, very good for others) was the day his comment felt less offensive and more… like a compliment?

"Hmpf, guess you aren't that incompetent, brat."

With time, the heat of his words went out of the window, his vulgarity dwindling as you improved in leaps and bounds. Despite his harshness and unpolished way of teaching, you'd become a swordsmith who could stand on her own two feet. Your apprenticeship would last for years more though, giving you plenty of time to really get to know your master.

"You didn't buy yourself any dango? Idiot. Here, take one. Don't tell a soul or you're dead."

"Here… What do you think it is? I didn't know you were so stupid you couldn't recognize tea. You like this type, don't you? So shut up and take it."

"Tsk. Brat. As if you could distract me from my- is that Gyomaru's dango? Hand it over."

Haganezuka Hotaru was just abrasive on the outside, but a big softie on the inside. 

A big softie who couldn't take care of himself properly at times. 

"Master Haganezuka, you need to eat. You've been in here for over a day." You cautiously touched his shoulder, hoping beyond hope he would snap out of the Zone. You'd brought dango and tea, hoping to entice him with the smell at first. It wasn't working, obviously.

He said nothing, just continued to hammer away at his latest work. 

“Master Haganezuka?” you shook his shoulder a little, making him pause for a moment before he continued. Your patience wore thin. You scowled. You’d be surprised if the ugly expression wasn’t permanently fixed into your face with how often you wore it when dealing with him. 

Maybe taking off his mask would make him pay attention to me?

Spoiler alert: It did not.

But it did make your face feel hot when you saw how handsome he was under it. A few shiny scars from the not-so-recent village attack still stood out against his pale skin, making him even more attractive.

Sweat made his dark hair stick to his skin, and suddenly, you were curious about the whole picture; you untied his scarf - it wasn’t like he was going to un-Zone anytime soon, you reasoned. You were not ready for the dark wavy tresses spilling over his shoulders. It was not fair how much of a looker he was. Was this man really single?

You continued to study him, memorizing his features for long lonely nights in your accommodation. Soon enough, you realized you were being a creep and should stop at once; you needed to finish what you started after all.

“Master Haganezuka!” you reached for his other shoulder to shake it. What you didn’t account for was the fact it was his blind side. Instead of an insult or even a scathing remark, you were nearly slashed with a red-hot blade in the face. You took a quick step back and it thankfully only knocked off your hyottoko mask to the ground, the wood smoking a little where the iron made contact with it. You stared at it with wide eyes, your heart in your throat and terror pulsing in your veins. “...”

“...you’re a woman?” 

Your eyes met his, both of you staring at each other in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” 

A flush rose to his cheeks, before his expression turned to white ash. “The old man is gonna kill me.”

"How did you not know I was a woman? The Chief told you when he was introducing me."

"I wasn't listening," he huffed, looking away. 

"More importantly, you just tried to kill me!" 

"Not my fault you were being stupid, brat!"

"You were being stupid. You didn't get out of here for over a day! You have to eat! And sleep!"

"Sleep is for the weak! I need to finish this project-" Haganezuka turned back to his bench, reaching for his hammer.

You snatched the tool before he could touch it. "No, you don't-" You high-tailed it out of his forge, clutching his favorite hammer as if your life depended on it.

"Wait-! You useless wench!"

Your master swore up a storm, hurling insults, screaming at you and chasing you with his half-finished blade. 

Kanamori even ran out into the street in his pajamas, mask askew, a katana of his own in hand, thinking there was an attack again. Seeing Haganezuka, he huffed and went back to sleep, too tired to deal with this right now.

A few days later, the Chief came to officially scold your master. You had a kick out of it, thankful your mask hid your smirk.

[ekingstonart]

“Did no one ever tell you, Supergirl, that it’s impolite to keep a lady waiting?”

[merakiui]

HOLD UP….Floyd honeymoon??? 👀👀👀

YES!!!! >w< it's a request for layered cake (oneshot) with pineapple parfait (honeymoon) for Floyd x fem reader!! There is so much potential for so many things. Honeymoon in the Coral Sea or on land. Lots of smut!!! Lots of sweet fluff!!!!! Floyd telling you how much he loves you over and over in between kisses. Mer sex....... 😵‍💫

AAAAAA I can't wait to write Floyd being so head over fins for you!!!!

[fic-recs-by-lulu]

Title: only the dead stay 17 forever

Author: Sky_Dust

Fandom: Batman, Red Robin

Rating: T - Teen and Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,017

Summary:

Tim is seventeen. Tim has been seventeen for a long, long time, a lot longer than most seventeen year olds have, but he thinks he's starting to get the hang of it.

(Tim is lying. Tim is getting farther and farther from getting the hang of it. Tim is going insane.)

OR

Tim is vibing. Having the time of his life, if you will. Please disregard the screaming and explosions.

[voidnull-crow]

Before The Sun Is Rising Up

Pairing: Yunho/Yeosang

Word count: 1,050

Additional info: fluff, cuddling & snuggling, established relationship, storm watching, severe weather tw

(title is from "Mist" by ATEEZ) (this can be seen as set in the same world as my other yunsang fic if you want)

Yunho awakes with a start. In the safety of his room, under the comfort of his covers, the quiet of night is disrupted by intermittent claps of unmistakable thunder. He takes in the world around him for a moment as he wakes up. Laying with an arm and a leg draped across his body is Yeosang, his soft breathy snores drawing Yunho to the present.

He closes his eyes and tries to go back to sleep. He’s warm and cozy and he has an angel in his arms, what more could he ask for? Taking some deep breaths, he tries to will that brain-empty feeling he gets before sleep overtakes him. The rain is a pleasant white noise. Even though he’s finding it hard to be sleepy, he’s not all that upset about getting a chance to enjoy the sound of a storm and cuddles to boot. 

It’s the lightning that piques his interest. When it flashes, it’s bright enough he can see it through his eyelids. Nearly subconsciously, he starts counting. When he doesn’t reach 30 before thunder sounds, he opens his eyes again. That’s a close storm. Curiosity calls to him, and oh how he’s failing to resist it.

He moves Yeosang’s arm gently off of his chest and slips his legs out from where they’re tangled together, leaving only the wrinkles of the covers to remember where he was. He tiptoes out into the living room.

Yunho draws the curtains and ties the strings to hold them open, revealing the storm outside. The windblown rain batters the windows of the glass doors. But inside, dry and safe, Yunho gives a small squeal of happiness at the dramatic show of nature. Slowly, as if in a trance, he sinks down to the floor, sitting back with his legs tucked up into his chest to watch the storm in awe.

The wind shakes the trees violently, and through the glass he can hear the leaves trembling like shivering teeth. The branches are whipped around but hold strong to the test of power. 

Rain hammers down, thrown from the clouds in buckets. It spatters on the ground, crafting a low misty haze; fog-like and mysterious. Cloud-to-cloud lightning zips across the sky every now and then.

He hears a noise behind him and nearly jumps out of his skin. Drawn out of their room by the sound of the storm or by the lack of Yunho cuddling him, Yeosang, pouty and fluffy-looking with a big blanket wrapped around him, shuffles across the room. He flops down next to Yunho in front of the big glass doors and puts half the blanket across his shoulders. Yunho hadn’t even realized he was cold. He scoots closer and adjusts the blanket around himself. Yeosang holds onto his arm and puts his head on his shoulder, yawning. Yunho rests their heads against each other.

The bloody battle of nature against itself continues. With a gruesome cracking noise, a well sized branch on a tree across the way snaps. Both Yunho and Yeosang gasp softly. It hangs on by mere sinews, dangling helplessly until the wind takes pity on it and finishes the job, letting it drop to the ground. Lightning highlights the grim scene. The onslaught of rain weighs it down, keeping it in its resting place. 

Thunder booms deep in the sky, rumbling through his body in a way that sets off his most primitive urge to hide. He loves the feeling. Yeosang clings a little tighter to his arm, but smiles at Yunho when he glances down to check on him. Yunho intertwines their fingers.

The storm reaches a point where the lightning strikes so often that the roar of thunder gets no break. The rain’s beat picks up, faster and harder and heavier. It tiptoes along the edge of hail. Yunho can’t quite see the difference, but he can hear it in how the rain hits the concrete in sharper, less muddled sounds.

He pulls the blanket up higher around his and Yeosang’s shoulders, feeling the chill of the storm leak through the seals of the doorframe. He could go for a warm drink, tea or cocoa or even coffee so he can stay up to the end of the storm, but is far too enraptured by nature to put the thought into action.

The rain gives way into hail, droplets morphing into hardened orbs of ice. They pelt the ground like a battery. The longer it goes on, the more the hail begins to collect along the edges and corners of the house, but none are big enough to stay frozen. The white center of each ball is molded out of shape by the falling of more hail overtop, leaving only slush.

The power of the storm begins to dwindle. The hail’s anger melts back into rain, the lightning no longer has the energy to reach the ground, the thunder's voice grows hoarse. The trees stop shaking in fear, and the haze along the ground disappears entirely.

As the clouds begin to lighten and separate from each other, the night sky peeks at the disheveled aftermath of the storm. She blinks her pretty, and many, eyes at the world, and at the two watching her. Or rather, the one watching her. Yeosang fell back asleep on Yunho’s shoulder at some point. Yunho isn’t sure when.

It doesn’t matter anyways. The rain has faded into a drizzle, light and boring. The adrenaline of the storm wears out of him, and he finds himself fighting heavy eyelids. Carefully, he takes the blanket off the two of them, folding it as best he can and setting it aside. Even more carefully, he shifts them both around so he can pick Yeosang up.

Slow and steady, he stands up off the floor with Yeosang in his arms. Yeosang’s head droops and falls against his shoulder, cheek squished against Yunho’s arm. Yunho’s heart tightens with fondness.

He takes them both back to bed, setting Yeosang down gently and then climbing in right next to him. Feeling sleepiness settle in his bones after the excitement of the night, he doesn’t linger on the marvel of what he experienced. He’ll talk all about it with Yeosang in the morning, when the sun is ready to greet the world.

[hazbinarchives]

Masquerade (Hide Your Face So The World Will Never Find You)

Characters: Angel Dust, Charlie Warnings: panic attacks, mention of violence and abuse, abusive relationships Ship(s): briefly mentioned Chaggie (charlie x vaggie), implied HuskerDust (angel dust x husker) Set: S1 E4 Tags: soft, charlie/angel friendship, abuse, hurt/comfort, pre-huskerdust, established chaggie Words: 1805 ❂~❂~❂~❂~❂~❂~❂~❂~❂~❂~❂

Angel had known it would be a rough day from the moment he had woken up that morning. Val had already been giving him shit for the past week since he moved into the hotel and hearing the constant love bombing and death threats were starting to get tiring.

An emergency shoot was the last thing he needed on his plate.

Then, of course, there was Charlie.

There was something so utterly terrifying about seeing Charlie in Valentino's studio. The way she looked around so innocently clashed violently with the naked bodies walking around and the smell of cigars and booze.

Angel felt his body move almost as if on autopilot. He was shoving the demon pinning him to the bed and scrambling to grab his robe, Angel's eyes seeming stuck on Charlie.

All he knew was that he desperately needed to get to Charlie before Val did.

Angel snatched Charlie's wrist as soon as she was within reach, looking around in a blind panic.

"What in the ever-loving-fuck are you doing here?!"

"I am the Princess of Hell, Angel! And I will go where I please!" Charlie had said in a snooty royal accent. Angel, who normally loved her antics though he'd never show, could feel his eye twitch and his heart race as he tried to usher her out of the studio. "I'm here to get you some time off for the hotel. Now where's your boss?"

Of fucking course.

Angel took a shuddering breath, pulling Charlie back to where she entered from.

"You are going nowhere near Val--"

The thought of her this close to Valentino made Angel feel physically ill. He could throw up. Probably would later. He just needed to get Charlie out of there.

But then again, when has Angel ever gotten anything he wanted.

Val was as impatient as ever and soon locked eyes on the princess.

Angel's breathing picked up and he felt something sharp and angry claw through his rib cage. Fear was choking him so viscerally as Val swooped close and examined Charlie like he was checking her quality.

Angel winced, anger pricking inside as Val's tongue slithered along Charlie's arm in place of a greeting like a fucking normal person.

"I just wanted to come to aggressively kindly talk to you about Angel--" Charlie had started and Angel flailed, not even sure if he was breathing at this point. "Later! Of course. I wouldn't wanna stand in the way of your work!"

Angel froze as Valentino turned to face him, feeling ice drip into his veins at the rage simmering off of the overlord. No one was allowed to get in the way of Valentino's work, Angel knew he had killed for less.

But...Val didn't do anything. He just went back to directing.

Still, Angel didn't breathe.

And it only got worse and worse.

Charlie was just trying to be helpful and Angel knew that but she always got into things she had no business being a part of. She never should have been here, she never should have gotten on Val's radar.

Angel felt his lungs seize and he was forced to inhale, a wave of dizziness washing over him. Val's red glow was intimidating as he dissipated all the fire Charlie's clumsiness caused.

"Angel~ Can I see you in your dressing room for a moment?" Valentino was already walking towards Angel's room and Angel was hot on his heels, not even able to give Charlie a second glance.

Fear rippled through him as words spilled from his lips hoping to explain.

Of course, Valentino didn't want to hear his explanations. He just wanted another guarantee that Angel's body and soul were whole-heartedly his. It was a sickening gesture of something that should feel intimate.

Angel could hear his heart pounding in his ears as an electric buzzing flooded into his limbs making it hard to resist Valentino tossing him about, all he could think of was getting Charlie out of there.

"Look, V-Val, she just gets involved in everything. I-I'll tell her to leave! Just don't hurt her..."

Valentino acting violently in response wasn't out of the ordinary. Keep Charlie safe was running on repeat in his head. Angel knew how to get her out.

He grunted as he was tossed to the bed and his heart ached fiercely at her justified anger but Angel had to do what he could to keep her safe. He needed her to be safe

"You actually wanna help me? Get the fuck outta here right now...and let me finish my work."

Angel felt his aching heart crack as Charlie's eyes filled with tears. He stayed unempathetic to her. He couldn't risk faltering or it would put them both in danger.

When Charlie ran out the doors, sobbing, it took everything within Angel not to cry as well.

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry Charlie

It wasn't until after arguing and making up with Husker that Angel remembered how he and Charlie left off. They had walked into the hotel talking and laughing after the whole fight outside the bar when he saw Charlie heading up the stairs

She had looked down and spotted him, eye contact freezing them both in place. Charlie was the one to break it first, looking away before giving them both a wave and turning back up the stairs.

Angel watched her go, chest suddenly full of an overwhelming ache.

"You gonna go talk to her?"

Angel blinked and saw Vaggie leaning against the bottom staircase column.

"Isn't checking on the princess your job as her girlfriend or some shit?" Angel tried to play it off, rubbing a hand across the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, it is," Vaggie agreed. "But, I feel like you both could use a friend right now instead."

Angel stared at the ground, his hand flexing as Vaggie and Husk seemed to watch him. It didn't make him want to cringe and hide though. It didn't make him feel scared like he does with Val. He felt safe.

"I wouldn't go that far," Angel coughed, stepping up the first few steps. "I have to check on Fat Nuggets anyway. Might as well see if Her Majesty is okay. Raincheck on those drinks?"

Husk winked and headed to his bar, whistling with a little hop to his step which made Angel smile fondly.

He quickly shook himself out of it, ignoring Vaggie's knowing gaze, and walked very pointedly up to his bedroom first. Angel did actually have to check on his little piggy and grabbed a good amount of lettuce and some apple slices as well before scooping up Nuggets and heading to Charlie's room.

It was empty because of course it was empty.

Angel groaned and scratched Nuggets under his chin, walking up the stairs till he reached a dead-end hallway. It did, however, have a pull-down ladder from the ceiling that led to a little platform on the roof of the hotel. The ladder was already down which gave Angel hope that he had found Charlie.

He climbed the ladder and peeked his head up outside. Sure enough, Charlie was on the roof, watching the Pentagram as the sky's magenta started to turn to a dark plum color.

Fat Nuggets squealed happily as he saw Charlie and wiggled out of Angel's arms to run up to Charlie and give her a nuzzle.

Charlie jumped in surprise before cooing at Nuggets, giving his little head scritches. She turned and gave Angel a small, gentle smile as he climbed up and sat beside her on the roof, also watching the transition into Hell's Night.

"I'm sorry I made things hard for you at work today," Charlie spoke softly, almost like she was telling him a secret. "Something didn't feel right when you answered the phone. You didn't look like you wanted to go. I just...I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Angel stared at Charlie half in awe at her big heart and half in fond exasperation.

"Charlie," He started, sighing. "My mess with Val? That's my mess, okay? It's not ideal but I'm working it out. It won't be like this forever."

Charlie sighed and leaned her head against Angel's shoulder. He froze in place, eyes wide and panicked as he looked down at her. Vaggie wasn't here so he didn't know what to do. He bit his lip before slowly reaching down and patting Charlie's head.

Angel didn't know how long they sat there, himself running his fingers through her blonde hair and Charlie leaning against Angel, her soft breathing and at-ease body language, as they fed Nuggets his dinner, showed him how much she truly trusted him.

He smiled down at her, feeling truly accepted by someone for the first time in a long time and now twice in one night. Angel knew he didn't want to disappoint her and felt that he truly had something to work towards getting out of his deal.

"Come on, Char," Angel soothed, his arms helping her sit up while two others picked up Fat Nuggets and tucked him against his side. "Time for bed."

Charlie whined at him, nuzzling into Angel's fluffy chest causing him to chuckle and scoop her up with his available arms.

Carefully, with his precious cargo, Angel made his way down the ladder. Vaggie was waiting at the bottom with a fond, knowing look in her eyes.

"She got you too," Vaggie teased him as Angel gently transferred Charlie into her partner's loving arms.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Angel scoffed, not able to stop the soft look on his face as Charlie snuggled into Vaggie, continuing to sleep. "How does she care so much?"

"I wish I knew," Vaggie chuckled, starting to head to their bedroom. "But she has plenty of love to give. You're her best friend, Angel. Never be afraid to reach out to us for help."

"Us?"

Vaggie paused at their door, turning her head to look at him. "I trust you with her, Angel. You are my friend too. If you need help, I am here."

Angel felt the stinging of his eyes and quickly looked away. It has been such a long time since he's had someone to rely on. Something that wasn't a substance but a person who genuinely wanted to see his improvement.

Angel walked into his own room, collapsing onto the bed with Fat Nuggets beside him, his body aching from all the work and abuse Val put him through. He curled up, facing his dresser where a picture of him and Cherri was tucked in the mirror. The other side had a picture from Sir Pen's first day that Angel secretly snatched.

What could he say? He loved his little family.

This time, they love him too.

[sleepykichii33]

cw: implied major character death

Eren didn’t think the day would come where Jean would die. He didn’t think he’d experience the moment where he witnessed the dirty blonde get hit by a running titan and slammed into a tree, being completely unmoving. It took a few excruciating moments to fully process what he’d just seen. 

It didn’t take long after that to use his ODM gear to get to Jean, falling to his knees and grabbing the latter’s lifeless body. There was suddenly a lump forming in his throat, his eyes wide with tears forming in them.

“Fuck, Kirstein- Jean! Wake up!” Eren yelled, his voice frantic as he shook the other by his shoulders. “This isn’t funny!” 

Was he really dead? Did he seriously just watch someone he cared about so much get murdered? Eren doubled over in tears, almost even wailing as he rested his forehead against Jean’s chest.

“You- You idiot! Why do you have to be so stupid?!” He sobbed, not-so-gently hitting the dirty blonde’s torso with his fist. He just stayed there for a few moments, everything around him becoming a blur. He couldn’t hear anything. The titans, scout’s screams, death. It didn’t matter what it was.

His bottom lip wobbled as tears continued to flow. His heartbeat was loud in his head. So loud that it took him a minute or so to make out the sound of a heartbeat different from his own. Was that Jean’s heartbeat? No. No, it couldn’t be his. Eren was just imagining things. He was going insane, wasn’t he?

“T-The hell are you doing, weirdo..?” A voice said, one that was so painfully familiar it made Eren’s head jerk up. Eyes wide, he saw Jean just barely opening his own. A few beats of silence passed (well, as silent as it could possibly be with titans and scouts being murdered in the near distance), before the brunette finally came to terms with what he was currently seeing.

“You- You’re alive?” Eren choked out, and it was so god awfully embarrassing how badly he’d been crying over Jean. They were ‘enemies’. Or, that’s at least what they called themselves. In reality, they grew fond of each other. They understood each other a lot more than they led on. Even then, it was humiliating to wail over the idiot.

Jean chuckled weakly in response, just barely nodding his head before replying.

“I-I’ve been alive this whole time, dumbass. What, d-did you think you could get rid of me that e-easily..?”

. . .

Things were fine after that. Jean got the medical help he needed, and he recovered perfectly. Eren would even say the two of them grew closer after that event. Their arguments and bickering were less heated, and they happened less often. The fondness between them both grew stronger.

Maybe that’s why it hit Eren even harder than the first time when he witnessed Jean being eaten by a titan right in front of him just a few months later.

[jonathanbyersphd]

🥳 Will Byers 53rd BDay ficlet 🥳

Will can hear his husband rummaging through the hallway closet as pulls his jacket on. He wonders what he could possibly be searching for. Both of their umbrellas are by the door, he already gave him the new Princess Peach game as a birthday present this morning and he’s already wearing his jacket. Will checks his watch again, they’ve got seven minutes before they miss the train. 

“Mike come on we're going to be late”  Will calls.

“I'm looking for betrayal at the house on the hill, have you seen it?” Mike yells back.

“You seriously think Nancy's going to play board games?” he laughs.

“Well, it is her favorite brother-in-law’s birthday,” Mike argues.

Will is about to defend Holly’s husband but there’s a crash from the hallway before he can. 

“Are you-”

“Found It”

Mike meets him in the foyer, wide grin spread on his face and a stack of board games in his hands. Will smiles in spite of himself.  

“Besides, Jonathan and Matty definitely will ” He declares before giving Will a quick kiss.

“I thought Matty couldn't make it?” Will asks. 

“No, Sammy can't. Midterms. Geez old man keep track of your kids” Mike teases, packing the games into a bag.

“Haha very funny”

“Don’t worry no matter how old you get I'll still love you” he promises with another kiss.

“Remind me again why they can't come to dinner here?” Will sighs, and he swears Mike’s smile fades for the briefest second. 

“When in the last twenty years have those two ever come to Brooklyn?” Mike complains with an eyeroll

“They used to for the kids birthdays” Will reminds

“And we were pushing our luck then, Babe” He contends. 

“I'm just saying we could stay in, get pizza, crush you in Mario Kart” Will shrugs checking his pocket for his keys one last time. 

“If that's really what you want I can text the group chat” Mike offers quietly. 

When he turns around, he can tell that Mike doesn’t love the idea and he tries not to feel too guilty about not wanting to go into Manhattan in the rain. 

“But Nancy already picked up your cake” Mike entices

Ok, so maybe he’s been thinking about a double chocolate all week but he’s sure they have the ingredients in the kitchen. 

“And Jonathan's making lasagna” Mike coaxes. 

And sure, no one can replicate Karen’s lasagna recipe like his brother can but pizza is fine. 

“Let me guess, Matt’s already there?”  Will questions hesitantly, not wanting the answer. 

“Yea, but he's spending the weekend. So that's not a big deal” Mike shrugs, and Will’s surprised that he’s coming around. 

“Jordan did fly in from L.A. though” Mike admits. 

“Just for my birthday???”

“It's a family thing you know how she is with family things and you're her favorite uncle” Mike grins.

“Bull” 

“Look, whatever you wanna do it’s fine. We just better decide before it starts pouring” Mike encourages. 

Will can tell he’s not telling the full truth. He’s not sure why their niece would fly in for such an unremarkable birthday. But, he would feel a little bad if she wasted the trip. Not to mention that changing the plans means Matt drove into Manhattan from Burlington for no reason. And as much as he wants to stay in he’d feel way too guilty about doing that to his kid. 

“Let’s go” he resigns. 

Half an hour, one horrible subway ride, and a short walk in the rain later they're standing on the porch in Greenwich Village and Mike is frantically texting. 

“Just ring the bell” Will admonishes right as the front door swings open. 

“Hey Buddy, happy birthday” Jonathan greets with a hug. Practically pulling them into the house.

They quickly take off their coats and shoes. 

“After you birthday boy” Mike insists cheekily and Will rolls his eyes but leads the way up the stairs. 

When they reach the kitchen, the lights are completely out and before he can say anything someone flips a switch illuminating the room. Noisemakers and shouts of ‘surprise’ fill the room. He barely registers that Sam is there before El excitedly pulls him into a hug and Dustin, Lucas and Max quickly follow suit. He tries to ignore the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Will beams with only a couple sniffles.

“We heard there was a party” Lucas jokes. 

Before Will can joke back about coming all the way from Chicago for some cake. Matty and Dylan start a spirited, if off-key, rendition of Happy Birthday with his fire-hazard of a cake in hand. 

“You going to be able to get all those” Jonathan teases from behind his camera as Will takes a deep breath to blow them out. 

Somehow, he gets all fifty-three candles in one go and Nancy swiftly takes the cake away to cut slices at the kitchen table with Jordan. Sammy crosses the room and gives him a tight hug. Will doesn’t even think to chastise him for not being at school.

“I can’t believe you did all this” Will smiles. 

“Yea well, it’s not everyday you turn fifty-three” Mike jokes as he places a birthday hat on Will’s head and hands another one to Sam. 

He chases down Matt to give him a matching one and Jonathan takes their picture. The four of them must look ridiculous but he’s so happy to be with their family he doesn’t care too much.For the tiniest second, Will worries that there’s no way he’s going to be able to match this surprise for Mike’s birthday. But Mike tenderly squeezes his shoulder and the feeling is gone just as quickly as it came. 

“What’d you wish for?” Mike asks once Jonathan finishes his photoshoot. 

“Nothing, I don’t need anything else, this is perfect. Thank you” Will admits quietly, trying not to get over-emotional. 

“It’s nothing really, just a couple phone calls” Mike shrugs. 

“I’m impressed you kept the secret” Will commends. 

“The things we do for love” he responds, dramatically. 

“I love you” Will responds leaning in for a kiss.

“But I’m still gonna crush you at Mario Kart” he taunts and Mike laughs.

[swsapphics-ao3feed]

by pez_and_quiet

star wars x arcane fic

wolfwren

wanted to start halfway through when the show takes place i will write the other stuff later just not rn um yeha so fanfiction yay

the title is an epidode title from school spitits which is a rlly good show go watfch it

Words: 874, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Ahsoka (TV), Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F

Characters: Bo-Katan Kryze, Sabine Wren, Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567 | Rex, Ahsoka Tano, Shin Hati, Baylan Skoll, Ezra Bridger, Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla, C1-10P | Chopper, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Yoda (Star Wars)

Relationships: Shin Hati/Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger & Darth Maul, Ezra Bridger & Sabine Wren

Additional Tags: Arcane AU, Alternate Universe, no beta we die like yord, Did not beta read, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Trauma, POV Sabine Wren, Lesbian Sabine Wren, Lesbian Shin Hati

[drowning-in-cacophony]

gentle like a wave

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 269: Living Weapon

[Summary: it's not as easy as thought to use this weapon]

“Bloody hell,” one of the men breathe, bug eyed and gaping. She sighs and places down her shears – her flower dead-heading is clearly a job that’s going to have to wait for another day.

They’d burst through the waterfall with gleaming guns and preposterous postures. The same story, then, and she reads that truth in the leader’s eyes as he blusters his way forward, a demand already tracing the shape of his lips. There’s an ugly-looking moustache quivering above his upper lip. She crosses her legs, tucking her ankles neatly away, backed against her latest crop of flowers. Sitting down, she’s found, puts them on the back foot constantly. They expect one image; have no idea what to do with what she gives them.

They’re all clearly shocked by what they’ve discovered here. What story was it this time? A push through the water and there would lie a sword, enchanted beyond all measure. Splash droplets from hair and wrap a hand around the greatest machine gun in history. Wipe eyes and find a bomb that’d end all wars. The leader – a commander, by the badge on his lapel – has begun to put together the pieces. Behind the water, behind all the strife to get here, and you’ll find a weapon. And well, it’s not bloody likely to just be her shears now, is it?

“On behalf of the United Squadrons, I am requesting your use,” the Commander says, wobbling himself to his full height. She presses fingertips against the seam of her trousers.

“That’s not how we do things here, Commander,” she says flatly, and continues before she has to listen to any bluster. “Tell me what you want.”

His eyes water. At his side, his hand flexes, though the handgun tucked in his holster remains sheathed. She hopes it stays that way: threatening their way to what they want never works out well. “You are the thing we’re looking for?”

How am I meant to know if you won’t tell me what it is? But it’s obvious, since no-one other than old Nana ever comes here for other means, so she gives him a gentle incline to blow his heartbeat wild. A bead of sweat hangs like a pearl, suspended at his temple.

“Then you must understand,” he begins, quick-paced, a little sanctimonious. “There is a war going on out there and-”

“No. I said tell me what you want. Not what’s going on.”

The man blinks. Behind him, his soldiers too. She sees the nervous licks of their lips, the hungry ones too. How long have they travelled to find her? There’s a hollow sort of look to their cheeks, but then she finds the soldiers often do end up concaved in face. Cheeks first, then the skulls. Once, such a man had stumbled in here and died before he could even tell her anything. His broken skull, along with his better condition bones, lie underneath the oak tree some stone throw’s away.

At least, despite the blinking, he gets to the point. “I want your power.”

“To?”

“To-? To destroy the enemy, of course! To bring justice to the land, to restore order, to-”

“No.” She nods to herself. “Next.”

The Commander stares at her, mouth hanging open. It’s quite an unseemly look to the man, so she glances to the man hovering a few steps behind. Maybe he’s the next-in-command, standing slightly closer to denote that; mostly, she just finds the next face she can. One hand reaching up, she beckons him forward with a twitch of her fingers, a raise of her brow when his step falters. His eyes dart to his Commander, uncertainty spoiling blue eyes like a damn rainstorm.

“What do you mean next?” the Commander blurts out with, cheeks going steadily red. “Didn’t you listen to me? I said-”

“I heard.” Her tone creaks, an old floorboard in distaste. “I’m not convinced by you.”

“Not convinced? Lady, do you know who you are talking to?”

She blinks, once. “Next. I won’t ask again. Either it’s next, or you’ll all leave.”

“We most certainly will not, not until you have-”

“Remember what you have come for.” Her voice now is gentle, in the way the sea goes before a massive wave rushes in to sweep a land clear. The Commander freezes, a man well acquainted with the gentle sort of danger. His throat throbs, a pulse she can see, easy enough to rip out. His eyes bulge, fish-like; she watches his thoughts go through him like the water from the waterfall.

There is this: the Commander might be the sort she doesn’t deal with, but he knows when to step back.

Stiffly, mind you, with his own distaste echoing around his face, loud as a church’s bell. Bewildered for a moment, his second is left standing on the precipice. There is a space to be filled, and she waits with expectation.

This second man takes a deep breath and a small step forward. His gun, which had been mostly lowered from the moment they’d all locked eyes with her, goes completely slack to his side. She reads his threading nerves, pounding a sickening drumbeat behind his skin.

“Tell me what you want,” she says.

The man exhales, a gust of wind to graze her cheek. “I want you to help us free the people.”

She says nothing. The gap in which to be filled, and he does not disappoint in understanding the intention. Cautious words, stalking a deer through a crispy field, he keeps on speaking.

“They suffer under a regime. I don’t know if what we intend will be better – I can’t predict it – but I know I want to try and make a place better than what it is. I want to improve things, for them.”

She taps her fingertips against the seam. “Thank you for your inquiry,” she says, and purses her lips. The man understands this too, bowing his head and waiting in silence, even as his Commander makes a few huffing noises somewhere behind him. She flexes her other hand, fingers weary already.

But this is how the agreement must go. They can ask, and if they give her an answer that meets her requirements, then she has to say yes, weariness or not.

A weapon cannot be too tired to fire, after all.

She raises her head, and gives him the answer.

[quillsmora]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: X-Men (Comicverse), Marvel (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Rogue Characters: Rogue (X-Men), Remy LeBeau Additional Tags: From The Ashes (X-Men) Era, Mild Smut, Post-Coital, Pillow Talk, or in this case couch talk, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, i just really love these two okay, Established Relationship Summary:

“Chére…that was…”

“Amazin’?” Her hand snakes its way into his auburn hair, carding her manicured fingers through the slightly damp locks.

“I was gonna say real fuckin’ good.”

“That works too.”

or: a moment before it all goes to hell (again).

[dasnercaret]

the nightmares stalk

Tw//blood, mentioned character death

In which the nightmare was real, but it went a little differently. A little ficlet in which Chayanne meets his hero, an old god comes to life, Philza and Tallulah pass out, and the nightmare is killed without fanfare or warning. 

Or: I fixed Philza’s and the eggs’ nightmare. 

__________________________________

Chayanne stares down the eyes of the monster, and all he can think is: I'm going to die. Philza and Tallulah are both painfully still behind him, but he can hear them struggling for breath. Their blood stains the sand.

They thought it was safe. They thought it was safe, but it wasn't, and now the two of them are dying and Chayanne has to save them. Except Chayanne's just an egg, an egg in diamond armor but still too weak, too fragile, too breakable for this monster with sharp claws and piercing eyes. It took two hits to fell Philza, one for Tallulah, and Chayanne's many things, but a fool is not one of them. Diamond armor means little against those eyes.

He wonders if he can take three hits. He knows he can't.

But Chayanne is brave, has to be brave, so he snarls as loud as he can (not nearly enough) at the beast, hefting his sword. It's sharp, razor-edged enchantments shimmering on its edges, but Chayanne knows it won't be enough. He charges anyway, as if sheer stubbornness could overcome death itself.

The glowing eyes flash. Philza and Tallulah gasp for breath behind it.

One. It tears open Chayanne's arm, blood splattering on the sand. Thankfully, it's not his sword hand, but it still hurts. He swings wildly with the sword, but the eyes dance just out of range, amused. Chayanne is closer to Philza and Tallulah now, but not close enough to save them.

Two. Chayanne can't help the cry as the thing tears his back open. The force sends him nearly flying, crashing into the sand beside his family. The sand is wet with blood, and he can see Philza's eyes watching desperately, begging Chayanne to run, run away, save yourself. 

But Tallulah is quiet beside Philza, even as he struggles to shield her with his own body. She's barely breathing. And Chayanne is many things, but no egg or man could run from the still body of Tallulah.

He forces his shaking arms upward instead, pressing through the pain. The monster approaches leisurely, invisible feet shifting through the sand. Chayanne locks eyes with it, glaring even as his injured arm gives out. If he's going to die, he's going to face death on his feet, protecting his family, staring into the eyes of his murderer.

Which means he's the only person who sees the man in the red cloak stab it from behind.

Chayanne - stares. The monster flutters out of invisibility, and now Chayanne can see its void-black limbs, his family's blood stained on its claws, and the diamond sword piercing straight through its chest.

The sword withdraws. The creature vanishes in a poof of dust like any other mob. The man steps forward, red cloak with white fur swishing through the monster dust, but Chayanne only has eyes for his family. He scrambles across the sand, reaching out towards his barely-breathing niece and father, ignoring his own blood splattering onto the sand.

Heal, Chayanne whispers, and he can feel the life draining out of him and into his family. He shudders, nearly collapsing with the strain, but glares at the strange man anyways through his fading vision. The black spots flutter large in the corners of his eyes, and he grits his teeth against them.

The man kneels. To Chayanne's surprise, he has the face of a pig - large pink ears, a snout, and fearsome-looking tusks. But his eyes are kind, and Chayanne relaxes imperceptibly despite himself. He'd saved them from certain death, after all. He didn't have to, but he did, and Chayanne isn't the type to forget such a gift so easily.

"You did good," he rumbles, a gentle hand ruffling Chayanne's hair. And Chayanne thinks he knows this man somewhere, knows his rumbling monotone voice and his fearsome skill and that red cloak - so he tolerates the touch.

(If he leans into it just a bit, that's between him and the strange man and nobody else.)

The man nods, as if deciding. "Take care of them for me, yeah?" The man stands, a slow graceful movement. His red cloak sweeps across the sand. Philza groans behind him, slowly waking up, but he only has eyes for the strange man.

Chayanne nods, and the pig man smiles. It’s breathtaking, and Chayanne can’t help but think that a real smile out of him must be very rare. 

"I'll see you around, then."

Chayanne blinks, and the man vanishes into the morning sunlight, like a dream. And even as Philza and Tallulah wake and begin fussing over Chayanne's wounds, Chayanne still stares at the spot where he'd disappeared, wondering, wondering.

[syndrossi]

Chapter twenty-seven (currently in progress) has featured gods-talk and me finally figuring out what to do about the mini (/not so mini) arc that has been, up to this point, very subtle. I doubt anyone has even picked up on it yet with how little there is to go on until ch22-23.

And since it's been a while, have the latest upcoming chapter titles + word count beneath the cut. They're not super spoilery, tbh.