#mare writes

[lady-morrigen]

more allaegon prompts, because i'm insatiable

❛ i would let you rip me apart if it meant loving you. ❜ & ❛ worship me. until i tell you to stop. ❜

laskjdhflkjasdf thank you for loving them with such ferocity 🥺

and thank you for turning this into something worthy of sharing (and the banner)

RATING: M (fade to black sexual themes)

Allana's fingers trembled, struggling to undo the tightly knotted laces that held the bust of her dress in place. Though she tried to slow it, her breath came in sharp pants, her ribs expanding and contracting painfully beneath the whalebone that bit at her sides. Her exhale was shaky, exasperated, and she fisted her hands in frustration.

Aegon stepped forward, as if the shadows themselves melted around him, parting for him, his voice low with desire as he watched her struggle. "Here, let me take care of that."

His fingertips were rough against the silk as he effortlessly untangled the knot, letting the strings dangle as he met her gaze. She was overwhelmed by his closeness, by the way the candlelight danced over his soft features, the faintest hint of honeyed wine on his breath enticing her, her knees threatening to give out. His touch was surprisingly delicate as he traced his knuckles along her cheek, placing a lingering kiss to the corner of her lips. As he trailed from her mouth to her neck, a soft sigh escaped her, and her eyes drifted shut. She tangled a shaky hand in his hair, anchoring herself in the moment. 

"I suppose I'm a bit nervous," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, and for once she did not resent the nerves that bubbled to the surface. His breath was hot as it danced across her shoulder, his lips leaving tingles in their wake.

“We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” He kissed her again, long and deep, catching her bottom lip between his teeth and pulling softly, his teeth gently worrying at her flesh. “I’m happy just to kiss you until your ladies send a search party.”

With a laugh, Allana melted into his touch, her body responding with a sense of ease, the nerves dissipating like smoke through a sieve. She couldn't resist playfully tugging at his silver locks, pulling him to meet her gaze. 

He was a sight to behold. To Allana, he was the most beautiful man in the realm. Though the dark circles gave him years beyond his own, his lilac eyes still held a mischievous glint, a reminder of the boy he once was.

"Am I mistaken, or is Aegon Targaryen attempting to portray himself as a chaste gentleman?" She pretended to swoon, placing her hand over her heart in mock disbelief. His own hands gripped her hip and pulled her against him, so close that she could feel the unmistakable hardness of his length against her thigh.

“You said yourself, the maids talk.” He twisted a scarlet curl between his fingers, his nose playfully bumping against hers. Then, his tone serious, he whispered, “I don’t want to ruin you.”

“I would let you rip me apart if it meant loving you,” Allana said, catching his gaze in earnest, brushing the tip of her nose against his. “In truth, you ruined me for anyone else a long time ago.”

Aegon kissed her then, their mouths colliding with little finesse in a passionate tangle of tongues and teeth, and he effortlessly guided her backward toward the bed. He pressed her against the soft sheets, his arms creating a protective cage around her head, and he kissed her again. She felt like she was floating, lightning dancing across her skin as if to chase after his touch before settling in her core. She whimpered, her lips pressed to his, and arched her hips to meet him. 

Without breaking their kiss, Aegon gently pulled at her skirts, exposing her soft, creamy thighs, and laid his body against hers. With a determined pull, he unraveled the laces of her bodice, freeing her from her corset and revealing the delicate fabric of her chemise hiding the supple skin beneath. Hooking a leg over his hip, he pressed himself against her, his hands gliding over her body, squeezing gently as he went. His mouth was hot and wet, sucking bruises into the skin of her collarbone, trailing down, down, and stopping at the swell of her breast. 

He looked up at her, pupils blown black with lust. “Tell me what you would have me do, Allana.” Closing the distance between them without waiting for an answer, he pressed his lips to hers once more, his hand reaching up to brush her hair from her forehead as he gazed down at her.

“Worship me,” she whispered, barely able to speak around the emotion and the magnitude of the moment, her heart fluttering, a bird trapped beneath her ribs. “Until I tell you to stop.”

The grin that pulled at his face was feral. “Gladly.”

taglist: @acrossthesestars, @dragonsbone, @emilykaldwen, @arrthurpendragon, @lightblindingme

other: @ocappreciation, @fyeahhotdocs

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #hotd fic #aegon ii targaryen #oc allana tyrell x aegon ii targaryen #allana tyrell #allaegon #fyeahhotdocs #ocappreciation #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen x ofc #aegon ii targaryen x oc allana tyrell #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x oc #aegon targaryen x ofc #aegon ii #aegon ii x oc #aegon ii x ofc #my writing #mare writes

[valmare]

having big tc thots today, and this is something i've wanted to play around with for a couple of weeks. Days of Thunder, 1990. Cole Trickle. 90s Tom Cruise. need i explain? so here's a teaser of something i may potentially work on. thoughts?

Redline

(Teaser)

"Cole! Cole, honey, can you hear me–? Let go of me, I wanna talk to them–COLE!"

Harry shoves her away from the mic hard enough that she slams into the faceless body with enough force to rattle her teeth, without apology.

Daytona heat all but rolls under the denim draped heavy across her shoulders. She can't even feel her own heart that racehorses against her ribs, can't hear past the roar of a gasping, on-their-feet crowd. Has all but forgotten how to breathe, even with Harry's iron grip now, somehow, on her forearm.

His low tones remind her with rhythmic examples of what she's supposed to copycat.

"In, out....that's right, darlin', in....out...." but it's lost when sunlight hits the gleaming, steel rail of the ambulance gurney. Taxiing the only thing she ever remembers caring about, the last six months.

Unable to look past the blood and rubber and black exhaust that's painted him like a work of art, her eyes weld to the EMT taking scissors to his prized SuperFlo suit. He loved that logo, the look of the get up.

He loves. Present tense.

She forces herself to remember he's, divinely, alive.

"Can't ask for a sponsor with a better look, sweetheart."

Every one of her internal organs make a mad dash up into her ribs when the gurney cuts sharply to angle by Harry and the rest of the pit. All but jumping the partition, Harry tosses the headset to the tar beside the familiar denim jacket. He hauls her over with him.

Breathless, trembling, and every organ all but screaming the same Pleasedon'tlethimdieGodpleasedon'tlethimbedead, her hands wrap home around the gurney's rail as it slides up beside her. No doubt the timing of God allowing her a moment in the mess the Firecracker has become.

The rail's surprisingly warm. No surprise, really. It's one hundred and eight degrees in the shade on this track.

It's Harry who manages to speak first, eyes flicking to the EMT ripping open the familiar suit.

"What've we got, doc?”

Half registering the fact this woman is an EMT, not a doctor this situations so desperately needs, she bends deeply over the rail. Hustles along the gurney that hasn't stopped moving like a pace car since it had scooped his body off the track.

Fingers slipping across the mess on his face, the familiar touch prompts a reaction. Eyes shifting back and forth rapidly behind closed eyes, his head lolls into the touch, heavily. Lips part with a soft moan that's more pain than recognition, though the attempt is there. From here she can feel his heart redlining in his chest. Against her fingers.

Matching hers, pace for pace. Like always.

"Cole. Baby, it's me–"

And his eyes flutter open, fan of lashes and all. There's instant recognition. That cocksure smile, the little light in the corner of his eyes. Sparkle of an ego that's too big to drive, too big for this whole world.

Fat, hot tears slip down her own face, to the mess his suit has become. The EMT has already cut through his underclothes, his skin is flaming. There's a scent of gas in the air, of exhaust. Steel, rubber. Familiar, all of it, but there's the sharp sting of antiseptic. Something coppery, almost.

It's blood. So much damn blood.

His smile grows when her eyes shift to consider his state. A quiet "Hi," is all he manages, lifting a slow hand to rub a curl between his fingers.

"Get her out of here!"

Wanting to respond, the EMT smacks his hand down and shoves her off the gurney as if it'll bite. Stumbling foot over foot, it's Harry's strong arm catching her elbow and tugging her along that sets her after them in long, purposeful strides. Strides that feel heavy, uneasy. Like walking on wobbly noodles. It takes every ounce of willpower she possesses.

She's swallowing air faster than she's breathing. Hiccups come, then sniffles. It's impossible to keep the race of thoughts lapping her brain at bay, and they begin to filter through her mouth without so much as a breath.

"Harry, is he–? I wanna––"

"I know, darlin'," his voice is certain. More certain than she's ever heard Cole's best friend be, when he's not cussing the pit out or chewing Cole a new ass through the mic. Jaw set, the vein in his neck strains with the effort of hauling her at elbow through the massive crowds that have gathered to see Cole to his shiny new ambulance ride. "I'm gonna get us there, that's a promise."

And Harry keeps his promises, almost all of them. That's something Cole had assured her, a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. It's hard to remember.

Has. He has assured her. He's alive.

Remembering is really the only thing the two of them have.

divider by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

taglist: @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @soulmates8 @chicomonks @books-are-escapes @sarahsmi13s @cassiemitchell @lovinglyeternal @bobby-r2d2-floyd @that-one-random-writer @horseshoegirl @lavenderbradshaw @bradleybeachbabe @roosters-girl @footprintsinthesxnd @chaoticassidy @roosterisdaddy36 @callsignharper @hisredheadedgoddess28 @ohgodnotagainn @moonchild-cupcake @aviatorobsessed @kmc1989 @imp-number-3 @your-local-crzy-lady @horserad-ish @bisexual-watermelons @mongoosesthings @gothidecorem @philcoulson-redtapeninja @itsgoghtime

#tom cruise #days of thunder 1990 #days of thunder #cole trickle #tony scott #racing fic #racing AU #i may end up throwing val kilmer in here somehow #i'm working on it #mare writes #writers #writers on tumblr #teaser

[mavenne]

“Jon would not tell me about the dead futures—the ones no longer possible. I think about them, though,” he mumbles.

“A Silver King, a Red Queen.

How would things have changed? How many would still be alive?”

if you like my work and wanna support me visit my ko-fi

#maven calore #red queen #mare barrow #mareven #artist on tumblr #king's cage #war storm #glass sword #the way this ship reminds me of corio and lucy so much #someone write a fic i beg

[booksndpoetry]

What do you mean I can't sit at home and write all day?! What do you mean I can't pine over fictional characters all the time?? What do you mean I have to get up and do "real life" things? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!?!

#+mare rants #writing #writer humor #writers #writers on tumblr #fanfic writers #writeblr

[nimata-beroya]

20 Questions For Writers

This was sitting on my notifs for a few days and i finally took the time to do it. Thank my darling @takadasaiko for the tag!! 💕💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 88 works in total, 31 of which are for Star Wars.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

574,873 words.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I'm only writing for Star Wars. But I used to write for Arrow and Supergirl, and ASoIAF, Dark-Hunters and Chronicles of Nick are in standby. I'm waiting for right motivation to come back to any of the last 3.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

I'm only talking about Star Wars fics here...

Kadala (The Mandalorian) [and 4th place in most kudos of all my works]

Rough Awakening (The Bad Batch) [and 5th place in most kudos of all my works]

Welcome to Yavin IV (Rebels)

An Explosive Situation (Rebels)

Rescue on Ryloth (The Bad Batch)

And the the rest of my all-time fics with most kudos are

Take Your Breath Away (Arrow)

Undisclosed Desires (Arrow)

Made For You (ASoIaF/Game of Thrones)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try my best, but sometimes I forget, and then it's been weeks and months since I got the comments that I'm embarrassed to reply them after so long. Even though, I think it's important that a writer let the reader/commenter that they appreciate it, even if it's with a simple "thank you" or an emoji. I know I'm being a hypocrite here since I fail to do what I preach, but it doesn't make it less true.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I think that would be Drifting, because it's kind of open ending, left to be interpreted, so it could end however the reader wants. Although, I left an author's note at the end saying what's my preferred ending, which always will be inclined to the happy side.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

High Above the Ground because is the happy ending i want for Commander Fox and Riyo Chuchi. They deserve only the best!

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

No, not really. I've gotten only 1 stupid message of someone criticizing a fic, but that was years ago when I still posted on FF dot net. The joke was on the reader because I moderated all the comments there so I just deleted it and nobody saw it but me. Honestly, I just laughed about it cuz their argument was just stupid.

9. Do you write smut?

I do, all kinds -from the most tame thing to the most perverted. But I used to wrote way more in my old fandoms, especially for Arrow. I think for Star Wars I've written just 1 or 2 smutty fics, and tamed at that.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I've tried a couple of occasions but never finished them. I'm not opposed to them obviously, but I do think the combination of fandoms has to be just right to work. Or at least, when it's me doing the writing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes! Many, many years ago in the first fandom I ever wrote for. It was awful and hated it! You see, this was in the stone age of the internet when fandom specific sites abounded and not everyone had an account on FFnet yet (and Ao3 was not even a dream). The site I published on was split in 2 sections because the ships war in the fandom was bloody and ruthless, so to avoid the slaughter, I kept myself in my preferred side. But one day, a friend who read fic on both sides told me that someone stole my fics. Avoiding to get caught, the person who did it published them under a pen name that was almost exact to mine, she only added a period at the end, which could easily go unnoticed. Oh, and she interchanged characters names so it'd fit the other ship.

At first, my friend thought I had posted them but she knew I'd never write for that ship, like ever. In the end, it turned out that I wasn't the only one who had being plagiarized. Several people ON BOTH SIDES were. Thankfully, the person was caught and banned, but we almost burned the site down because of the whole shitshow.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

By me, yes, several. All into Spanish (my mother tongue). By others, not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes! A couple of times for different fandoms, and I loved it. I hope I'll do it again. The thing is that you need to find the right partner for it, or it can be a nightmare.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

I don't appreciate this question, let me tell you. It's hard to choose. But I think I have to go with Olicity. I love them still (even if the show ending ruined it for me). Close second would be Braime (and I'm glad that there's still hope for them on the books, because as usual the show fucked them so but sooooo bad)

And as Star Wars specific, I don't think anyone will be surprised if I say it's Kalluzeb, right 🤣 They're my babies and I adore them!

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Anything for Arrow or Supergirl. I sworn off those fandoms after their respectively awful endings.

No promises, but there's still hope for all if my unfinished works for Star Wars 😅

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Coming up with ideas. So, so many ideas. All the time and I want to write them all.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Finishing writing the above-mentioned ideas. I tend to splay myself too much when I'm writing, and it takes me forever to get to the portion I really want to write (usually the idea that sparked the whole writing process) and I lose steam. That's why I have so many unfinished WIPs. I wish they'd write themselves.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's ok if used sparingly. A word here, a phrase over there is fine, but if a wall of dialogue that the reader needs to scroll down to the notes or click on a tooltip to find out the meaning it's the worst!!! A better solution for a writer that really needs/wants to have a whole conversation in another language for plot reasons or whatever, then all they need to do is to say once that the characters are talking in the other language and put the dialogue in the same language they've been writing the rest of the narrative and in italic.

The characters who don't speak the language won't understand what's being said, but the reader will and their reading will be more pleasant and fluid.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

An Argentinian show called Floricienta. A modern retelling of Cinderella.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I don't like this question either! All my fics are my babies! How do you want me to choose?!! There are so many I'm proud of. I guess I'll point the most recent one: Feed Me Poison, Fill me till I Drown I really like how this story is coming along. It's not done yet (what else is new? 😅) but what's coming is so so good!

Tagging (no pressure): @renee561 @thecoffeelorian @genericficerblog @airlockfailure @mistr3ssquickly @insertmeaningfulusername @fanfictasia

#20 asks for writers #ask game #the mandalorian #the bad batch #sw rebels #kalluzeb #braime #foxiyo #mare writes star wars #and other things #olicity #long post

[doll3tt33]

Idk if anyone here has watched black mirror before, but there’s this one episode ‘hang the DJ’, which is basically about some AI dating program that pairs you up but puts an expiration date on each relationship.

I’m not gonna spoil anything but I HIGHLY recommend it cuz it’s SO DAMN ROMANTIC(( THE ENDING ITS THE ENDING 😭😭 I wanna make a bot based on it, but the practically nonexistent memory capacity of the bot will ruin the story, and now I’m thinking of writing a fic instead but idk how ughhhjsjsm

#I have this idea in mind with Colin #I’m sure you guys can tell I’ve been craving to write about him anyways spoilers ahead in the tags #Like how am I supposed to get this out of my head?? #The concept of being tied to this person in each and every alternate universe?!? #AND ALWAYS BEATING THE SYSTEM IN THE NAME OF LOVE THOUSANDS OF TIMES OVER 😭 #colin zabel x reader #colin zabel x you #Colin Zabel #colin zabel smut #mare of easttown #ahs #american horror story #ahs fandom #evan peters

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Martyrs and Kings AND ZOMBIES!!!

A/N: I'm so excited to share this spooky, sexy one-shot sequel to Martyrs and Kings! I've been planning this fic for months, and I hope y'all love it. Quick note: obviously, this fic contains spoilers for M&K; however, it was beta-read by my partner who has not (yet) read the original fic, and they said it worked as a stand-alone story, so if you haven't read M&K yet and don't mind spoilers, read on!

This fic is dedicated to the amazing @clonemedickix in gratitude for all the love and support that you've shown me and so many others in the fandom. Thank you so much for everything you do, and particularly thank you for your feedback on the field medicine. You are a rock star!

One final caveat: I am a horror wimp, but I did my best. Please don't expect Stephen King 💜

Pairing: Post-stasis Kix x OFC Dr. Maree Finnall

Rating: M (minors DNI)

Wordcount: 5k (this just made M&K 10% longer lol)

Warnings and tags: peril; suspense; violence; blood and injury; gore; medical procedures; adult language; SMUT; oral sex; face-sitting; Kix activating my competence kink like no other. IMPORTANT: an additional content warning is listed at the end of the fic due to spoilers. If you have triggers, please check the end of the fic for the BOLD PINK TEXT before reading.

Summary: The crew of the Meson Martinet goes after the score of a lifetime and discover that they may have bitten off more than they can chew.

Suggested listening:

Martyrs and Kings chapter 1 | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“B1.5-series battle droids are a myth,” Kix said firmly. “You’re wasting your time.”

“The good doctor doesn’t share your opinion,” Quiggold argued.

Sidon Ithano, as usual, said nothing, his crimson helmet swiveling slowly toward Maree. Kix turned to her as well, his jaw set, his eyes full of confidence that she would back him up. Kriff it. She absolutely hated being caught in the middle of this argument.

She cleared her throat. “There’s… some debate in the academic community about their existence, actually. If they ever were created, they were never deployed at any recorded battle—and it’s a good thing, too.”

“Why is that, exactly?” Reeg Brosna asked.

He was sprawled on the bench of the dinette, his arm draped around Orys Brenko as the research assistant perked up immediately.

“Is it true that they used nanodroids to retrofit original B1-series droids?” Brenko asked, his face flushing dark green with excitement.

“That is one theory,” Maree said circumspectly, keenly aware of Kix’s scrutiny. “According to contemporary sources—and noting that those sources are unreliable at best—the B1.5s had significantly upgraded blaster resistance. There was another rumor as well, even less credible.”

“What rumor?” Reveth interrupted, leaning forward over the table, drawing Ithano’s attention subtly.

“They said the B1.5s could keep going even if you blasted their processors,” Kix cut in before Maree could reply. “It was a stupid story the commandos made up to scare the shinies.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” Brosna asked. “Indestructible battle droids? They’d be worth a fortune.”

“Even if they don’t exist, the haul from a Techno Union stronghold could set us up for life,” Reveth pointed out. “I say we go after it.”

Squeaky grunted his agreement, predictably. The Gamorrean was always guaranteed to follow the pretty Twi’lek’s lead. Reveth could have suggested a nude spacewalk, and Squeaky would have thought it was a grand idea. Brosna and Brenko voted in favor as well. Kix voted against, and Maree did as well, purely out of solidarity. Privately, she was consumed with curiosity about the B1.5s, and she couldn’t deny that the possibility of such a groundbreaking discovery was alluring in the extreme.

Quiggold voted in favor, and Ithano abstained, and so it was decided: the crew would send a team to scout the Techno Union stronghold, and if they found anything worthwhile, the rest of Ithano’s small fleet would join them.

“We’re gonna need your expertise, Doc,” Reveth said to Maree. 

“Absolutely not,” Kix snapped.

Maree glanced at him in surprise. It was unlike him to try to overrule her choice, and she didn’t care for it. “Reveth is right, Kix. I’ll be able to identify the highest-value items, and I have a good idea of what’s in demand.”

Kix looked away, clearly unhappy, but recognizing that he’d overstepped. “Fine. But if you’re going, I’m going, too.”

“We’ll need you to stay and command the fleet from the Scorpion while the captain is away,” Quiggold interjected.

“Fuck that,” Kix growled. “Brosna is my first mate—he can take command from the Scorpion. When it comes to Maree’s safety, I outrank everyone on this ship.”

“Brosna doesn’t have the experience—” Quiggold began.

“Agreed,” Ithano said, his deep voice cutting through the buzz of conversation and debate in the Martinet’s galley. “Quiggold, command the fleet from the Martinet. Brosna, take the Scorpion. Reveth, Squeaky, you’re with us.”

The captain’s decision was final, and within a few hours, Kix, Maree, Reveth, Squeaky, and Ithano had boarded the Scorpion’s shuttle Stinger and departed for the desolate moon where the Techno Union base had sat untouched for over fifty years.

“Fifty credits says we find nothing,” Kix said.

“I’ll take that bet,” Reveth replied.

Squeaky grunted his agreement. Ithano said nothing.

“Maree, you want in on this action?” Reveth asked.

“Kix and I have a private bet on the side,” Maree said with a mischievous twinkle as Kix shot her an inscrutable look.

Reveth smirked. “Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it will be,” Maree replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of crimson as Ithano moved through the shuttle. On impulse, she leaned in and whispered in Reveth’s ear cone.

Reveth’s eyes widened as her mechanical hand instinctively settled on Maree’s waist. “Damn. You and Kix want a third for that?”

Ithano’s helmet whipped to the side as he suddenly became very interested in the conversation. Maree suppressed a laugh.

“What do you think, Kix?” Maree asked with faux innocence. “Can Reveth play with us?”

Kix eyed her with a perfectly neutral expression that warned Maree he knew exactly what she was up to. “You gotta win that bet if you want to call the shots.”

“You’re on,” Maree replied immediately.

Ithano’s helmet swiveled from Maree, to Reveth, to Kix, and back to Reveth, but he said nothing. Kix merely turned back to the navigation controls and continued to pilot the shuttle toward their destination.

The old Techno Union stronghold was on a remote, swampy moon, and the dense vegetation had grown thickly over the past five decades. Kix was forced to set the shuttle down several klicks from the decrepit base. He didn’t like it. He didn’t kriffing like any of this. It was too far; they’d be too exposed; their progress would be too slow in the mud. He glanced at Maree and felt his anxiety spike.

How the kark am I supposed to protect her out there?

He double-checked her gear as she suited up, adjusting the fit of her holster for a quicker draw. He quickly inspected her blaster before handing it to her.

“What’s going on?” she asked quietly. “You’re on edge.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a good feeling about this mission.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve gone into one of these old strongholds,” she pointed out. “We’ll be okay.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. Just… Keep your eyes open.”

“I will,” she promised. “And I know you’ll watch my back. Just like I’ll watch yours.”

He traced his fingertips along her jaw as he pulled her closer to himself. He couldn’t feel her soft warmth through his armor, but her nearness felt comforting regardless. He kissed her gently, threading his fingers through the hair that she wore in loose braids. 

She looked so different now than she had the first time he’d met her two years earlier; her elegant wardrobe replaced with sturdy, practical clothing meant to withstand rough field work and the occasional blaster fight. But underneath, she still smelled like tea and honey and home. She was still the same—still his Maree.

“If you’re finished sucking the lips off her face, can we get going?” Reveth teased. “Droids aren’t gonna find themselves.”

Despite Kix’s misgivings, the trek to the derelict base was uneventful. Squeaky stayed with the shuttle in case they needed a quick extraction, while Ithano, Reveth, and Maree hacked their way through the underbrush along with Kix. It was slow going, and the swamp was creepy as hell, but eventually they made it to the plastcrete and durasteel structure.

There was no power to the base, so they cut their way through the sealed exterior blast doors. Once inside, the group fell silent as they made their way through the dusty, cobwebbed hallways. The base was pitch black inside, illuminated only by their own torches, and once again, Kix felt the simmering anxiety in his gut begin to roil.

“Something’s been living in here,” Reveth muttered, training the beam of her flashlight on a tangle of debris that was unmistakably a nest for something… large.

Kix didn’t respond, but he reached out and pulled Maree closer to himself, then drew one of his DC-17s. Ithano brought up the rear, his blaster rifle ready.

“Control center should be just ahead,” Maree whispered. “Reveth might be able to restore power from there.”

“We’ll be karked if she can’t,” Kix replied quietly.

“Happy thoughts, Kix,” Maree murmured.

Right. Happy thoughts. Spiced biscuits. Unlimited bacta. Maree’s tits. More credits than I’ve ever seen in my life. The Scorpion. Weapons caches. Maree’s thighs. Maree’s thighs on my shoulders. Maree’s thighs framing my face while she rides—uh, weapons caches.

“Control center,” Reveth called under her breath as she reached a sealed doorway.

They pried it open enough to squeeze through. Kix went first, sweeping his light across the room as he scanned for threats. Reveth followed, then Maree and Ithano. Reveth headed straight for the control console and plugged in her small power unit and began to fiddle with the controls.

“Happy thoughts,” Kix mumbled, returning to the doorway to keep watch over the pitch-dark corridor.

Within a few moments, Reveth let out a quiet, triumphant huff as the control console flickered to life, dimly illuminating the room. She went to work immediately, interfacing her datapad with the ancient console.

“Damn. Main power cells are depleted,” she said. “I’ll try to at least get emergency lighting turned on.”

“Why would the power be depleted if the base has been abandoned for decades?” Maree asked. “The Techno Union had extraordinarily advanced power cells that were capable of storing energy far longer.”

“Unless something used it,” Reveth said.

Kix swiveled his head to stare at the Twi’lek.

“Like what?” he bit out.

She shrugged. “Dunno. But we might find out as soon as I get the data decrypted.”

A distant, deep hum sounded, and red light flickered on throughout the base.

“Nicely done,” Maree told Reveth.

“Let’s get the data and get the kriff out of here,” Kix growled, hating every minute of their time in the farking spooky base.

“Working on it,” Reveth snapped. “Think you can do it faster?”

Ithano glanced between Kix and Reveth, then moved to join Kix at the doorway, blaster rifle raised. “What is it?”

“Not sure,” Kix replied quietly. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Ever reticent, Ithano merely nodded and took up position across from him. Kix nodded in silent gratitude that the pirate captain didn’t question his instincts. Then again, the Crimson Corsair hadn’t survived this long by ignoring his gut. 

Kix’s eyes darted to Maree again. She leaned over the console, scrolling rapidly through the data files, searching for any hint of the information they sought. He turned back toward the hallway, his eyes scanning it watchfully.

“No kriffin’ way,” Maree gasped.

“What?” Kix and Reveth demanded in unison.

“You just lost a bet, my love,” Maree told Kix.

“Wait, really?” Reveth asked. “It’s real?”

“‘Project Ophio,’” Maree read, her voice low and hurried. “Principal investigator Vamb Tebrem. Project number T327H1138X99. Primary focus of study is to develop experimental NM-K reconstitutors with the purpose of enhancing the durability and combat acumen of extant B-1 series assets…” Her voice trailed off as she leaned closer to the console, flicking through the data hurriedly. “Project director reported a 62% success rate in the initial efficacy trial; however the experimental reconstitutors were prohibitively expensive to manufacture, and the unpredictability observed in field tests was not adequately resolved—what field tests?”

“You catch any of that?” Reveth asked Kix.

He shrugged. Maree’s voice had dropped to an inaudible murmur as she scrolled through the data, then opened another data file. A quiet chime sounded from the console, drawing Reveth’s attention.

A glowing hologram appeared over the console: wave after wave of battle droids locked in combat a group of clone commandos who should have been able to easily defeat the B-1s. But the droids just kept going. Nothing could stop their advance as they overwhelmed the commandos’ positions and tore them to pieces. Kix swallowed hard, hearing the screams of the dying commandos, unable to take his eyes off the hologram. Maree slapped a button on the console and the sound paused abruptly as the holo froze.

“Holy kark,” she breathed.

“What?” Reveth asked. “Is that not normal?”

“No,” Kix said grimly. “We need to get out of here.”

“Uh, about that…” Reveth said.

Ithano swiveled his head toward the Twi’lek. “What?”

“Opening that holofile triggered an alert in the system,” Reveth said. “Hopefully it’s nothing?”

“Time to go,” Kix growled.

“Yeah,” Maree said, her voice shaky. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“At least let me download the records,” Reveth argued, jamming a data spike into the console.

They all froze as a distant but unmistakable crash echoed through the base, followed by a rhythmic thumping.

“What is that?” Maree whispered.

“Clankers,” Kix said grimly, drawing his second blaster. “Seal the blast doors.”

“We’ll be trapped in here!” Reveth objected.

Maree stared at Kix. “Can’t we make it out before—”

A light flashed, and her body jerked as a blaster bolt smashed into her. She went down hard, and Kix barely had time to register what was happening before a firestorm of blaster bolts exploded into the room. He whirled back to the entrance and returned fire at the wave of battle droids that was advancing at high speed toward his position. Ithano was firing as fast as he could, but the droids weren’t dropping.

“Get those kriffing doors sealed!” Ithano bellowed.

Reveth had ducked down behind the console for cover as Maree scrambled to join her out of the line of fire. Reveth frantically worked the controls from her position on the floor, but she wasn’t fast enough. A single droid made it through before the doors slammed shut. The clanking and pounding of the army of droids battering against the blast doors was deafening. The lone battle droid charged across the command center.

“Kill it!” Kix shouted. “Fuckin’ kill it!”

Reveth, Ithano, and Kix unleashed a torrent of blaster bolts, but the karking thing wouldn’t go down, even as its components began to fail and fly off its body. It was headed for the console. It was headed toward Maree. Desperately, Kix launched himself at its mangled, skeletal form, tackling it as he locked his arms around and tore its head off with a sickening screech of twisting metal.

But the fucking thing kept moving, shambling toward the console. Kix growled and yanked out his vibroblade, slashing through the droid’s joints until nothing remained but a pile of scrap, and then he sprinted toward Maree, launching himself over the control console. 

“Maree!” Kix yelled hoarsely.

Her face was sweaty and contorted with pain as she clutched her hand around her upper arm, but she gave him a tight smile. “I’m all right.”

The blaster hole in her jacket sleeve was still smoking, and Kix felt sick as he saw blood covering her hand, oozing from a wound that should have been cauterized by the plasma bolt. 

“Let me see,” he ordered. 

She moved her hand, and he cut the sleeve away quickly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Oh, fuck, it’s bad. It’s bad, and I don’t have my kit.

“We have to get out of here,” Reveth rasped.

Kix dug frantically through his pouches, finding only a few small bacta patches and a vial of spray bandage. He didn’t have a choice. It would have to do, at least until they could make it back to the Stinger. 

He shoved the jacket sleeve and vibroblade toward Reveth. “Cut that into strips. Wide ones.”

He drenched the blaster wound with spray bandage, then grabbed the first strip Reveth cut from the jacket sleeve and quickly tied it around Maree’s arm near her shoulder. “Do you have a stylus on you?”

“Always,” Maree said, her voice tense with pain. She pulled the stylus out of her pocket and handed it to him, carefully avoiding looking at the charred, bloody wound. “Why is it bleeding so much?”

Kix tied the ends of the cloth strip around the stylus and twisted to tighten the makeshift tourniquet, securing it as he replied in an artificially calm tone. “Sometimes it happens. Move just wrong—the cauterized scab opens—blood.”

He ripped open the bacta patches and arranged them carefully over the injury, covering it as well as he could before wrapping the rest of the fabric strips around them to secure them in place. Finally, he looked up into her eyes, inadvertently smearing her own blood on her cheek as he cupped her face.

“I’m not losing you today.” His words were firm, but tremor in his hands was undeniable, and his pulse thundered in his ears.

She smiled at him through dry, ashen lips, and he kissed her forehead, then helped her carefully to her feet. Reveth had pulled up a schematic of the base, and Ithano joined them at the console, pausing to squeeze Kix’s shoulder briefly.

“We don’t die so easily,” the captain said in his deep, rasping voice.

“Not today, anyway,” Reveth cut in. “I found an escape route.”

“Please tell me it’s not the ventilation shaft,” Maree said unsteadily.

“It’s always the ventilation shaft,” Reveth replied.

Maree’s shoulder screamed with agony as she crawled through the ventilation shaft. She gritted her teeth to hold back the whimper of pain that hovered at the base of her throat. The ventilation shaft was filthy and cramped, and their progress was torturously slow as they navigated as silently as possible to their destination. The conduit wouldn’t take them all the way out of the base, so they would have to make a run for the main entrance when they got close. The only way they stood a chance of escaping was to not draw the attention of the battle droids.

She followed Kix through the labyrinthine ductwork, crawling laboriously on her knees and one hand. Her injured arm had burned like fire when Kix first applied the tourniquet, but now her arm was completely numb—and equally useless. At last, they found the access hatch to the main corridor. Kix dropped down first, and then Maree realized exactly how difficult this was going to be with only one functional arm. 

“Just drop,” he whispered. “I’ll catch you.”

She took a deep breath and slid out of the maintenance hatch, feet first. Panic flashed in her mind briefly as she plummeted through the air, but Kix was true to his word, catching her before she could hit the ground. He set her down quickly and checked to make sure her bandage was still in place as first Reveth and then Ithano dropped down into the corridor.

They sprinted for the exit. Maree’s lungs burned and her vision blurred around the edges as she gasped for breath. Kix looked back at her sharply and reached for her hand, dragging her along behind him. By some miracle, the droids hadn’t detected them yet, and she could see the main entrance of the base. She forced herself to keep running, even as she stumbled and nearly went down, kept upright only by Kix’s strong grasp.

He tugged her arm over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist to support her, but he didn’t slow his pace. “We have to keep going, love. We can’t stop now.”

“I know,” she wheezed. “So close…”

She could hear the clanking of droids behind them, and she pushed herself as hard as she ever had in her life to keep running. They cleared the entrance, and Reveth tossed a few magnetized thermal detonators onto the ceiling of the base. 

Keep running, don’t stop, keep going.

The explosion knocked them off their feet, but the rubble of the collapsed ceiling blocked the main entrance. It wouldn’t hold back the droids for long, but it bought them time—so long as they kept moving. Kix was up first, pulling Maree with him as Reveth and Ithano scrambled to their feet.

They ran for the trees as Reveth commed Squeaky. “We need a pickup, now!”

“He can’t get to us in the jungle!” Kix said. “We have to find a clearing where the shuttle can land.”

They dodged through the trees, trying to avoid the worst of the swampy ground, but the dense underbrush slowed their progress and steered them on a circuitous route. Out of the corner of her eye, Maree saw movement in the earth. The ground shifted and began to swell.

“What the kriff is that?” she demanded.

“Keep running, don’t look back,” Kix urged.

“No, what is that?” she repeated.

She saw a flash of pale, bonelike metal alloy, and then a battle droid erupted from the earth.

“Fuck!” she screamed.

All around them, the skeletal forms of B1.5 droids began to emerge from the swampy ground, punching their way to the surface and dragging themselves up from the mud. Kix released Maree and drew both of his blasters, opening fire without hesitation. Maree, Reveth, and Ithano followed suit, for all the good it did them. The droids simply wouldn’t go down; even if they took so many hits that they started to fall apart, they still somehow shambled on in a grotesque parody of their normal precise movement.

They had no choice but to keep running and hope that they could at least slow some of the droids down. She could hear the roar of the shuttle overhead, but the vegetation was too dense for Squeaky to pick them up. The Gamorrean’s indistinct, frantic squealing sounded from Reveth’s comlink.

“He said there’s a clearing about a klick southwest!” Reveth yelled.

It might as well be on the other side of the planet, Maree thought hopelessly. There were simply too many droids; they were advancing relentlessly, and the terrain was too hostile to cross it with any speed. Holy shit, we’re all going to die here.

Her mind darted to the holorecord of the field test—a kriffing gruesome euphemism for such carnage. It had been a complete massacre. The terrified screams of the commandos as the droids tore them to pieces; the spray of blood and viscera: the images were branded irrevocably in her memory. It was a horrific way to die, and they were about to find out firsthand. 

Panic clawed at her, closing her throat and making her shots go wild. Her legs felt sluggish, and her feet became unsteady, but Kix never let her fall, even as he fired ceaselessly at the pursuing droids.

“We’re almost there,” he grunted. “Keep running, sweetheart, you can do it.”

“Kix, go,” Ithano ordered. “Get her to the Stinger.”

“No!” Maree exclaimed. “We’re not leaving you!”

Kix ignored her protests, bending over and tossing her over his shoulder as he ran. His plastoid armor cut into her thighs and belly, and she squirmed to try to get away.

“Put me down! Go back!”

Kix ignored her and raced for the clearing where the shuttle hovered just above the ground, ready to take off as soon as the crew were safely aboard. He dropped Maree in the copilot seat and turned to Squeaky.

“Don’t let her follow me.”

He sprinted to the back of the shuttle and jumped out, making for the treeline.

“Kix!” she screamed, lurching out of her seat.

Squeaky didn’t hesitate. He thrust her back into the chair with a stern grunt, then secured the safety harness to make sure she didn’t try to run again. She could hear blaster fire and shouting outside the ship, and she tugged desperately at the harness. Squeaky grunted again to order her to take control of the ship, and he lumbered toward the rear hatch, blaster ready.

Her heart hammered as she took the controls. Please, please, please. The distraught prayer echoed in her mind, silently beseeching the Force. I can’t lose him. Not like this. She felt utterly helpless as the deafening roar of Squeaky’s blaster fire pounded through the ship. Mercifully, she soon heard the pounding of boots on durasteel, and then Ithano launched into the pilot’s seat and punched the controls, hurtling the shuttle away from the planet.

“Kix?” she asked frantically.

“I’m here,” he said, dropping to his knees next to Maree’s chair and wrapping his arms around her. “I’m here.”

“I’m here, too, thanks for askin’,” Reveth said as she flopped into her seat.

Kix stood and quickly released the safety harness, tugging Maree out of the chair and burying his face against her neck.

“Holy kark, I can’t believe we all made it out,” Reveth said. “I was sure Maree was toast.”

Maree laughed, and Kix glared at the Twi’lek. “Not kriffin’ funny.”

“It’s kinda funny,” Reveth insisted.

Kix shook his head and drew Maree out of the cockpit and back to the tiny med bay at the rear of the shuttle. “Med bay” was putting it generously; it was really just a bunk and a large emergency medkit, but it had everything he needed to treat her shoulder. He administered a stim shot, cleaned and redressed her wound, and removed the tourniquet. He worked efficiently, and she didn’t see any of the distress that had clouded his eyes back at the base—of course, they weren’t fending off a horde of unkillable zombie droids this time, either.

“What’s the verdict, doctor?” she asked with a tiny smile.

He stroked his fingers over her forearm gently. “You’ll live. Gonna have a kickass scar, too.”

“Will you kiss it better?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

He smiled wryly as he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I’ll do my best. At least I’m finally going to have an exciting story to tell Baba and Eema.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, kriff, your mothers are going to kill me!”

The Stinger docked with the Meson Martinet first, and Squeaky, Reveth, and Ithano disembarked, then Kix piloted the shuttle to his own ship, the Scorpion. Brenko and Brosna were waiting next to the airlock when Kix and Maree emerged from the shuttle.

“Well, did you find the B1.5s?” Brosna asked.

“Yeah,” Kix replied grimly.

“Ha!” Brosna laughed triumphantly. “Pay up, Captain!”

“You’re still acting captain,” Kix retorted. “Now get your ass back up to the bridge until I relieve you.”

“Wait, you’re not taking command right now?” Brosna asked.

“Nope,” Kix replied, dragging Maree to their quarters.

The door hissed shut behind them, and Kix slapped the control panel to lock it. He was on Maree instantly, devouring her in a searing kiss as he unzipped and pulled off her jacket, carefully avoiding the large bandage on her shoulder. Once he had her top removed, he dropped his mouth to her throat and kissed a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her body as he knelt in front of her. 

His hands roved over her urgently, clutching her body close to him. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he tugged down her trousers, and then he plunged his tongue into her ravenously. Her body jerked, and she cried out, losing her balance. He caught her with ease, then pulled her toward the bed.

“Kix,” she panted. “Don’t you at least want to get naked?”

“I can’t wait,” he groaned. “Sit on my face.”

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped.

“I’m planning to,” he said, lying on his back. “On my face. Now.”

She knelt, hovering over his mouth, staring down into his eyes. He gazed back up at her, sliding his hands up her waist to cup her breasts, before dropping them to her thighs and yanking her body downward.

“Kriff!” she exclaimed as his tongue slid deeply into her cunt, then his lips closed around her clit.

He held her in place as he feasted on her, his groans vibrating against her sensitive flesh. The sensation was overwhelming. She writhed, nearly toppling over, then leaned back to brace her hands on his ribcage. He ate her like he was starving, like she was the last thing he would ever taste, and he fully intended to savor every drop.

“Kix—fuck—gods—” she moaned, her hips finding a subtle rhythm even as his strong hands gripped her, preventing her from moving more than a few centimeters.

He murmured quietly against her in between the kisses and licks and nibbles—soft, nearly inaudible whispers of fear and adoration and lust. “... taste so fucking good… love you so much… thought I was going to lose you… never letting go… so kriffin’ scared… want you so bad…”

He released her thigh and reached his hand around to massage her clit. All the muscles in her core began to tense as pleasure spooled tightly in her body, but her orgasm remained tantalizingly just out of reach. She leaned back, groping blindly for his cock. She fumbled with his belt and eventually just slid her hand beneath the waistband until she wrapped her fingers around his rigid shaft.

He grunted at the contact, his hips thrusting up off the mattress. His hand strayed away from her clit to press his palm flat against her lower belly, and pressure was exactly what she needed. She convulsed with a sob, and he redoubled his efforts, tongue-fucking her through her orgasm. Distantly, she felt the thrusting of his cock against her hand, and then a rush of hot, sticky cum on her fingers.

She crumpled to the bed, and he pulled her tightly against him, kissing the backs of her thighs as she slowly came back to herself. After a few moments, he shifted, curling up behind her, tucking his thighs behind her legs as he drew her body close to his and buried his face in her hair.

“I love you,” she murmured.

He kissed the side of her neck, just behind her ear, dragging his tongue slowly across her skin as he slid his hand up to play with her breast. “Love you. Never scare me like that again.”

She laughed quietly. “Aye, aye, Cap’n. What’s gotten into you, anyway? You were acting protective before we even left the Martinet.”

He lay silently for a moment, breathing in the scent of her hair, before he replied. “You’re late.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re… your cycle, it’s like clockwork. And—you’re late,” he said hoarsely.

She swallowed. “Oh.”

The original comic panel that inspired this story! This was from Star Wars Adventures Ashcan. Alas, this comic was never published, so I am once again filling in the gaps in canon.

ADDITIONAL CONTENT WARNING: mention of possible pregnancy.

#clone medic kix #post stasis kix #pirate kix #meson martinet #sidon ithano #reveth #oc: maree finnall #star wars #clone wars #star wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfic #martyrs and kings #dystopicjumpsuit writes #Spotify

[m1ckeyb3rry]

in another universe i finished this fic instead of glass princess:

#i started this and tgp at the same time because i wasn’t sure which idea i wanted to write for more #but i ended up being more interested in tgp and seeing more of a path forward w that fic #so this one was scrapped and never really got fleshed out #i did like it though!! just liked glass princess more #maybe one day i’ll return to this…or not #the glass princess #mare magnum #m’s thoughts

[poarkchop]

No Mare's Land

MLP AU Part Two - Pinkie Pie (Laughter)

Pre-Conflict. (Happy. Bubbly personality. Pet Alligator.) STATUS: Alive and Well.

(MENTIONS OF WAR/DEATH/SCARS UNDER CUT)

During War; Optimistic. (Trying her best to keep her chin up. Where's Gummy? And who's bag is that? Broke her leg somehow.) STATUS: Alive.

During War; Pessimistic. (Aggressive. Cautious and Defensive. Significantly less pink.) STATUS: Alive.

Pinkie found herself in the middle of a forest. She realized her left hind leg was in some way twisted and broken. She couldn't put any weight on it. She learned to walk without it and explored her surroundings. The forest wasn't anything she was familar with, but she was hoping to find any sort of civilization. She called out to her friends, Gummy, anypony who came across her mind.. but no one ever came. She always could hear screams from afar, but she could never get to their origins in time to find anypony who was still alive.

At first, she tried keeping high spirits. Any moment now she'd stumble across some group of safe, unscathed, peaceful ponies and she'd be able to stay with them until her leg healed and was healthy enough to find her way back home.. at least, that what she would tell herself.

That day never came for Pinkie Pie. She slowly came to the realization that she was in the middle of nowhere, no one alive nor willing to help her. She was scared. So, so scared. She would walk for hours on end and would only scrounge up so much food. She survived off the sparse berries and fruit in the area. She had to learn the hard way what was edible and what was not.

Pinkie Pie had lost the volume in her mane as she trudged along. Her coat became dull and dirty. The only thing on her mind was surviving, no matter how difficult things got. Her friends needed her after all, otherwise who'd throw their parties? That is, if they were still alive.

The uncertainty of the situation made her heart shatter. Some days, she wished she was back home with her friends, and on other days, she bet they'd turn their backs on her anyway. She'd fall into bouts of paranoia or hysteria frequently in her travels. She missed her friends. She missed her family. She missed Gummy.

Along the way, she managed to collect a few items she thought were worth keeping; a bag, a weapon, and a few bits. From every deceased group of ponies she found, she'd get some sort of food and a warning not to follow their path.

Every now and then she'd come across another pony. Unfortunately for Pinkie, these ponies were always a foe, not a friend. Pinkie quickly learned that the best way to survive was not to give a pony the benefit of the doubt.

Pinkie Pie does what she has to in order to stay alive.

#my little pony au #no mare's land #mlp au #mlp infection au #mlp #pinkie pie #pinkamina diane pie #equestria #au #art #drawing #artists on tumblr #sketch #poarkchopsfunfunartgallery #digital art #commissions are open #blehh the writing on this one kinda sucks but i didnt wanna make it too long >_<

[moumouton4]

could u write a blurb ab Thomas (TMR) x reader? something along the lines of them falling in love at first sight at the bonfire? - emmy

tyty, i <3 ur writing

Like Struck By A Lightning || Thomas x reader

A/n : I'm so happy of this request 🥞 Also my requests are open as always so let me know if you have any ideas 💎

Masterlist ⚜

Warning : None just fluff 😌🌺

Summary : You're falling love at first sight with our favorite brunette

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 802

A month has passed since he arrived in the glade. And like every month, a new greenie was going to arrive. But he didn't know that, because he was on patrol with Minho and the others, because in spite of his arrival, which could not be described as flamboyant, he knew how to make a place for himself in the exploration group. To everyone's surprise he was an excellent runner

Anyway, back to you. You are cowering in the corner of the metal cage that brought you up there. As it finally opens, letting the sunlight dazzle you. A blond headed boy jumps into the cage and extends a friendly hand to you. You can take it and get out of the shadows

You didn't miss the shock in his eyes as he introduced himself to you "Hello I'm Newt- you're a girl ?!?" you shyly took his hand and walked out of the cage with him to the cheers of the boys which turned into exclamations of surprise. Some were better at hiding their surprise than others "A GIRL ! IN THE GLADE !" "Gally your alcohol is way too strong I think I'm seeing things..."

After the surprise, everyone introduced themselves - which took a long time, but it was so uncommon they had too - and finally they went back to their duties

You spent the day with Newt who turned out to be a good guide and an even better friend for you who had just arrived. He explained to you that a welcome party would be held near the bonfire and that you would meet the people who were not there when you arrived because they were in the labyrinth

The night came soon enough, the fire was lit, logs were put around to serve as seats, Frypan was busy making the best food - with the means at hand and of course Gally brought his famous mead

You were getting to know some of the other boys when someone grabbed you by the shoulders to turn you around and you recognized Newt's voice "I finally found her... let me introduce you..." he stopped and looked at you waiting for your help... in fact he didn't know your first name and neither did you...

When you looked up at the person you were being introduced to - because yes he was tall - you met two brown orbs staring at you. And suddenly it was as if you had been struck by lightning, in your head the rotors had stopped as if they had found the right combination... "Y/n. My name is Y/n" you said with your E/C eyes still in his, as a soft warmth spread over your cheeks

The same phenomenon occurred on the cheeks of the boy in front of you as he froze in place for a while, before reaching out to you and introducing himself "Well Y/n nice to meet you I'm Thomas" you grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly before saying your name again

His hand sent an electric shock to yours which made you look into each other's eyes again and Thomas swears he didn't notice that spark in your eyes a few seconds ago. He found something bewitching about it and that it was drawing him to you

All the sounds around you died away to the background and for a moment you both felt as if time had stopped... well until Newt cleared his throat and brought you both back to reality

You almost struggled to let go of each other's hands, as if the golden thread of soulmates had just tied your two beings together. The warmth of his hand remaining in yours for a moment more brought you a sense of comfort. You grabbed your hand with the other as if to keep the warmth

Newt waved goodbye before dragging Thomas with him to drink some mead. You couldn't stop your gaze from following the silhouette of the boy you had just met "Thomas" you murmured to yourself

You turned around and went to sit down again with your other friends, this meeting having marked your memory with red iron, your heart tightened and you couldn't help saying goodbye to them few minutes later. Wanting to join Newt hoping to spend more time with Thomas. You couldn't help but feel that there was something more to explore with him

And little did you know that he was thinking the exact same, his head cocked on the side trying to pick you out of the crowd of boys while taking slow sips of mead. A smile forming on his lips as he saw you coming towards him and the others. Yes he was sure being friends with you was going to be harder than he expected

~

~

A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🍂🌈 Again my requests are open 💫💙

Taglist : @malfoyscamander, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl, @jane57sstuff

#I'm so happy that you requested this ! #the mare runner #the maze runner imagine #tmr #tmr fluff #thomas #the maze runner thomas #tmr thomas #tmr thomas x reader #the maze runner thomas x reader #tmr thomas fluff #thomas imagine #fluff #miri-writes #request

[lady-morrigen]

As Natural as Breathing

PAIRING: Peter Parker x fem!Reader

RATING: E

WORDS: 2600

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v, fingering, minimal plot, one bed trope

A/N: how delighted was I to get to write for @mortwig for the Flowers for Peter server fic exchange?! every bit of your favs list spoke to me in a very real way and I'm so excited to share this gift! HAPPY DICKED DOWN DECEMBER, Y'ALL!

(thanks to @acrossthesestars for her beta skills, as always!)

The door to the motel room swung open, banging against a small set of drawers in the corner. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, your heart leapt into your throat. The duffel bag you carried on your shoulder fell to the floor with a dull thud. 

“Umm…” You turned to face Peter, who was rubbing a hand along the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture, pink tinting his cheeks.

“I think the clerk must have misheard me,” he grimaced, picking up your bag and heading toward the door. “I’ll go get it straightened out.”

You swallowed, steadying your breathing before you spoke. You had to admit the idea of sharing a bed with Peter was enticing. 

“Peter, wait.” You turned to him. “Didn’t you hear him? He said this was the last room available tonight.”

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “And I’m pretty sure there was a sign on the counter that specifically stated ‘No Refunds.’”

“Right.” You grabbed your bag from him, tossing it on the bed, the single bed, in the center of the room. “And besides, it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before.”

“We haven’t had a sleepover since we were like twelve.” His voice pitched up an octave as he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. 

“Okay, but I’m just saying.” You crossed your arms over your chest, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not like we have any other choice anyway. This is the only room available and we’ve been driving for hours. We need to rest.”

Peter looked at you for a moment and you could almost see the wheels spinning behind his eyes as he processed the thoughts swimming in his head. “Yeah… yeah okay. You’re right.” 

Peter had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. He had come to live with his aunt and uncle the year you turned six, his bedroom, a mirror image of yours, directly across the street. You had marched right over, pet rock in hand, and introduced yourself. The following day, he sat next to you on the bus to school and you had been inseparable ever since. 

Through vacations, rooftop sleepovers, and late night creature-features, you couldn’t count how many times you’d fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder. Being his best friend was easy, as natural as breathing. Falling in love with him had been inevitable. 

So much so that you hadn’t even realized when it happened. One day he’d been Peter Parker, the lanky neighbor boy with bony knees and elbows, the boy you cried to when Tony Piazza had broken your heart, and the next he was Peter, the boy you didn’t dare look in the eyes for too long lest a swarm of butterflies erupt in your gut.

Suddenly, you were keenly aware of the way his scent lingered in your car when you’d give him a ride to campus, the way he ran a nervous hand through his hair when he’d catch you staring, and how something ugly twisted in your gut when he’d waved a friendly hello to his pretty chem lab partner. Mostly, you were shocked to discover how meeting Peter in your designated spot at the end of every day felt a little too much like coming home.

Somewhere outside of Oklahoma City, you still had another eight hours before you made it to your next stop in Albuquerque, and another twelve after that before you reached Oceanside, your final destination. You weren’t sure what had prompted you to agree to a cross-country road trip to celebrate Peter’s graduation, but you couldn’t say no to a whole week relaxing on the coast with your best friend. 

He had let you shower first, giving you a phony excuse about not having to wait for the water to heat up, but you knew he was just being polite. Washing the sweat and grime from your body felt like heaven, the warm water relaxing your muscles, weary from the drive. You begrudgingly stepped out, deciding to pay Peter back in kind by not taking too long and saving some hot water for him. 

The room was small, leaving you to maneuver carefully around the bed where Peter lounged, his eyes sealed shut at your request as you held tight to your towel to keep it from falling loose. You were kicking yourself for not remembering to bring your clean clothes into the bathroom with you as you struggled to dig one-handed through your bag to grab a clean pair of socks. You threw a glance over your shoulder, smiling fondly at the sight of Peter with a hand covering his eyes and a dopey grin on his face. 

Pulling on the socks, underwear, and tee shirt you grabbed from your bag, you realized you had worn your last pair of clean sweatpants on the drive from Indianapolis and didn’t have anything else to sleep in. You rummaged for a moment more before letting out a huff and turning to face Peter. 

“You can open your eyes now, Pete,” you said. “I’m mostly covered.”

He sat up, eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the light and he took you in. As his gaze landed on the hem of your oversized shirt, just covering the tops of your bare legs, he gulped hard. When you crossed your arms over your chest instinctively, he looked away quickly. 

“Did you happen to pack another pair of sweatpants? I wore my last pair today and they’re all grimy.” 

Peter got up to rummage through his bag, pulling out a gray pair and holding them in your direction. 

“This is my last pair, I think. I can re-wear the pair from yesterday tomorrow,” he said. You felt bad leaving him with nothing to wear, and you weren’t about to give up an opportunity to see him parade around in a pair of gray sweats, so you declined. 

“Oh no, I couldn’t let you do that! Besides, those are so grimy that they could practically walk by themselves. You should wear the clean ones.” You wrinkled up your nose, hoping it would be enough to convince him not to push it further. “I have one last pair of biker shorts to last us until we reach a laundromat, but I’d rather not sleep in something that tight. I don’t mind sleeping in just a tee shirt if it doesn’t bother you.” 

“I will be the perfect gentleman, I swear,” he said, grinning and holding up three fingers in an honor salute. 

“Go take a shower, nerd,” you said, rolling your eyes and pushing him toward the bathroom. 

As the tap turned on, you wiggled under the stiff sheets, reveling in the stretch of your muscles. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, though you weren’t sure if it was only in contrast to the hard foam of the car seat. As you burrowed deeper, your senses were assaulted by the foreign yet familiar scent of hotel sheets - a bit musty, like stale carpet with a hint of bleach. Your eyelids began to droop as the day’s exhaustion began to weigh on you and pull you into deep sleep.

When you woke, it was pitch black. As you slowly became aware of your surroundings, you felt the weight of an arm draped over your waist and the warm press of a body at your back. Rolling over, your legs intertwined and you nuzzled softly into the hollow of his neck, breathing deeply  when you remembered… Peter. You were in a motel bed with Peter. Momentary panic threatened to take over until Peter’s arm, still draped over your hips, pulled you closer, pressing you against him in a way that let you know he was very much awake. 

He sighed softly, and you melted into him, placing a tentative, delicate kiss to the dip in his collarbone. He shivered, his hold on you tightening, and you felt emboldened as you kissed him again, tracing a path over the warm skin of his neck, to his jawline, and across his cheek, stopping just short of the corner of his mouth. You threaded your fingers into his hair, deciding to throw caution to the wind and captured his lips with yours. Gripping his hair, you pulled him impossibly closer, canting your hips forward with yet unspoken desire.

His hand found your hip, fingers gently tracing the curve and pulling the fabric of your tee shirt with them as he grabbed at the bare skin of your waist. His lips parted for you, an invitation, and you obliged, lazily licking into his mouth, nipping gently at his bottom lip. Rolling onto his back, he pulled you to straddle him, digging his fingers into the meat of your ass as he moved you against him. You could feel him growing hard through the fabric of his sweats, urging you to grind down harder, desperate for any sort of friction to satisfy the growing ache at your center. 

His mouth left yours as he sat upright, finding your neck and sucking a mark into the skin that you knew would take ages to fade. The thought spurred you on, your hips moving of their own accord, the quiet room now filled with the rustling of overly starched sheets and Peter’s whispered name on your lips. His hands were pushing your tee shirt up your waist, higher, higher, until your bare breasts were exposed to him. 

Looking down, he was illuminated by the hazy, orange glow of the parking lot, the light trickling in around the edges of the flimsy curtains. He was even more beautiful like this, you thought - his eyes glued to your body in wonder and palpable desire, something you had fantasized about for what felt like a lifetime. 

His hands ghosted over the skin of your breasts, giving one firm squeeze before capturing a nipple in his mouth, his tongue laving over the sensitive bud as his other hand pressed tenderly against the dip of your lower back, holding you firmly in place. You dropped your head back with pleasure, tangling your fingers into his hair once again to ground yourself, to make sure you wouldn’t float away. A small moan escaped from his lips as he pulled away with a pop, his eyes meeting you for the first time, nearly black with desire. You smiled at him, brushing the hair back from his forehead in an intimate gesture. You cupped the side of his face, your thumb rubbing tenderly against the soft skin of his cheek. 

Peter closed his eyes and pressed his face into the space between your breasts, holding you there for a minute, his hands tracing invisible shapes over the skin of your back. When he looked back up at you, he spoke softly. 

“You sure?” A hint of insecurity marked the wrinkle between his brows and you reached up, smoothing it away with your thumb. 

You didn’t say anything, only nodded, before pulling your tee shirt over your head and throwing it across the room to land on top of your luggage. There was nothing else you could say as you pulled at the hem of his shirt, prompting him to follow suit, wrapping his arms around your waist so that your chest was flush with his. He kissed you again, slow and sweet and pillowy soft as he guided you back against the pillows, kneeling between your legs. 

He tugged your panties over your hips, down your legs, to your ankles, and grinned as you kicked out of them impatiently. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, open and wanting, luring him in. Peter pressed a kiss to the inside of your bent knee, his lips trailing torturously slow along the length of your inner thigh. He ran a finger through your slick folds, bringing it to his lips and savoring the taste with a groan. He pressed one finger to your entrance, swirling it around, teasing it in and out, before adding another and pushing inside. 

Your hips bucked at the sensation as he pumped his fingers lazily inside of you, curling every so often to brush against something that sent shockwaves dancing up your spine. Your fingers were aching from gripping the sheets when his lips found your clit, suckling lightly, the soft swirl of his tongue catapulting you over the edge as you fell apart. His free hand came up to rest on your lower belly, warm and grounding, pulling you back into reality. 

As he moved up the length of your body, you found yourself aching at the emptiness, desperate to feel him inside of you once more. He kissed you, clumsy and coated with the taste of your pleasure, sloppy and divine. You pushed helplessly at the hem of his sweats, eager to get them off of him. He chuckled against your mouth, the sound going straight to your core as he pushed them down, taking himself in hand and sliding through your folds, slick with the mess he made of you. 

He lined up at your entrance, barely pushing the blunt tip inside, leaning forward to rest his forehead on yours, noses bumping as he searched your eyes. 

“Positive?” He teased you with a roll of his hips, his eyes squeezing shut as you pulled him infinitesimally deeper. 

“Peter, ple-” He cut you off, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, burying himself to the hilt with a groan. 

For a moment, neither of you moved, too caught up in the feeling of being completely lost in each other. He began to move slowly, memorizing the feeling as he nearly pulled out completely,  rolling his hips as he pushed back into you. You brought a hand over your head, bracing against the wall behind the bed, meeting him thrust for thrust, pleasure building higher and higher until it threatened to consume you once more. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your free hand clutching his bicep, nails leaving half-moon shadows in their wake. Peter was all consuming - his mouth hot on the skin of your neck, fingers tightly gripping your hip, one hand snaked between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. It felt as if you didn’t know where you ended and he began, your bodies moving as one, as natural as breathing. 

His moans grew louder, more desperate, as his pace began to falter. His fingers began to work faster against you, the circles growing sloppy, nearly begging you to come with him. Heat bloomed in your belly, melting into something delicious and you toppled over once more, relishing in the sensation of him filling you as he too met his end, your name slipping tenderly from his tongue. 

Slowly, he pulled out, groaning at the loss as he came to rest beside you. The two of you lay there for a moment, his head on your chest, unsure of what was supposed to happen next, or who was supposed to speak first. You began to run your fingers through his hair, your nails scratching gently against his scalp and he hummed in delight. 

“We really should have done that sooner.” His voice was honey, smooth and sweet, as it rumbled against your chest. 

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement, tilting him up to face you, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “But we have all the time in the world to make up for it.”

(dividers by @silkholland)

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker smut #the amazing spiderman #dicked down december #we chose fucknasty #one bed trope #friends to lovers #magnificent mortwig #mare writes #my writing #my fic

[valmare]

jurassic park x top gun

"...they didn't stop to think if they should." Ian Malcolm • jurassic park

© 𝔳𝔞𝔩𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔢, 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔷𝔢 𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨

#val kilmer #top gun #tom cruise #jurassic park #tom iceman kazansky x reader #pete maverick mitchell #crossover #mare writes #coming soon #tom iceman kazansky #top gun 1986

[cuubism]

Dreaming attacked?

literally just a shameless excuse to write cool battle scenes ™, or, 'how many ways can dream use the dreaming itself as a weapon to fight off invaders without ever drawing an actual weapon'

--

He makes his way towards Dream, determined to stay by him so he has someone at his back, even if that someone is Hob, whose powers here are meager in comparison to Dream’s.

He finds creatures in the snow and slaughters them, all of his sword work from decades past coming back to him. They come at him with fangs and claws and tails bristling with spines, but Hob isn’t afraid. His desperation to keep Dream safe is far more powerful than that.

Irrational, to want to keep Dream safe in the Dreaming. But he feels it all the same.

“This is my realm,” he hears Dream growl from somewhere in the storm, voice reverberating despite the howling wind. “It bends to my wishes. But you? Let us see how you like the dark.”

And he turns off the sun.

The Dreaming is plunged into absolute, pure darkness the likes of which Hob has never seen. There’s no moon, no stars. Hob blinks and throws his hands out, trying to balance.

And then realizes…

He can see.

Somehow. Not with his eyes, quite. But with some kind of direction at the back of his head, like the Dreaming itself is guiding him. Neat, that. Also quite likely to drive him mad if it lasts for any amount of time.

He follows the direction of Dream’s voice and finally gets close enough to see him again. There are still so many damn creatures, where are they even coming from? They are blundering now, in the dark, but must have other senses for they’re still managing to, eventually, turn for Dream. Hob watches him turn the ground beneath a group of them into quicksand. They scream and flail as they sink.

“Do you not tire?” Dream asks, idly. “Do you not relent? That is disappointing, for I tire. Of gravity, in particular.”

The realm turns upside down.

#ambiguous Creatures ™ aka mare too lazy to define a magic system #ask #anonymous #my writing #ask games #this fic has been fun but honestly it could get more fun like. could definitely drill down way more into how the dreaming's magic works #to unpack it for fight scenes. instead of just this surface level thign

[iamvegorott]

If you're still takings fluffy prompts, what about Natemare comforting Madpat? I'm thinking about someone being rude to him while he was out of their house, which makes him cry. Whether Mare is there at the moment or Mad comes home to him, is up to you :)

I got a liiiiiittle carried away XD ----------

It was fine. It was fine. Everything was fine.

You’re overthinking. You’re working yourself up. 

You are being so dramatic.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

You. Are. Fine.

Mad swore his eyes were going to melt from how much they burned. Tears had been threatening to form his entire walk home and each second he was losing that battle more and more. He kept scolding himself for this reaction, but he couldn’t stop as the words replayed in his head over and over again.

Some of those words were so much harsher than others. Digging deep into who he was as a person, things he couldn’t change about himself, and it all hurt so much but like hell he was going to let them see him cry. 

Mad wished he would have gotten angry, would have pulled out his mallet, and lashed out. None of them would last against him, he’d knocked them all out so easily…

But his heart ached too much for violence. 

Hearing the clicking of the door seemed to be Mad's final straw, breaking what little restraint he had left and he was down.

Mad curled up into a ball in front of the door, hugging his knees as he started sobbing heavily. He had no choice in how loud his cry was, how he gasped for air between tears, his face getting hot and almost feeling like he was suffocating from burying it with his arms and legs yet he couldn’t pull away. 

“Mad? Is that you?” Mare asked as he made his way through the house. “Mad?” He quickly went over to Mad and crouched down. “Starlight, are you okay?” Mare rubbed at Mad’s arms, hoping to coax him out of the ball so he could breathe better. He wasn’t expecting Mad to come home upset. He had gone to the library, he was always happy when he came home from the library but here he was crying his heart out with no books. “Mad?” Mare did manage to get Mad to uncurl just enough to see his face, his own heart aching at the sight of Mad’s red face, puffy eyes, and tears rolling down his cheeks. “What happened?”

“There was…there was an event.” Mad sniffed.

“An event?” Mare was thankful that Mad was already breathing a bit more evenly so he could speak. 

“An author was there. I didn’t know them but I-I like hearing authors talk about their work and I…I got too excited and some other people saw me and they said-they called me-they...” Mad’s voice trailed off as a new wave of tears hit. 

“Come here, starlight. It’s okay.” Mare gently guided Mad to move over to him and wrapped his arms around him, getting him to stand as well. Once on his feet and feeling much safer in Mare’s arms, Mad whispered into Mare’s ear about what he had been called. Mare froze for a second, eyes darkening with anger but he shoved that down in favor of comforting Mad, not needing him to feel that emotion from him at that moment. “How about we make a coffee and call it a day?”

“Can we watch a movie instead?” Mad asked. 

“We can watch as many movies as you want,” Mare said, keeping an arm around Mad as he walked them out of the living room and to their bedroom. Mad had to be feeling terrible if he didn’t want coffee.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” Mad voice was soft, eyes now half-closed and showing how much this wore him out. Mare had a feeling he wouldn’t stay awake for one movie, let alone several. 

“I’ll get everything set up.” Mare watched as Mad emptied his pockets before going into the connected bathroom. He was likely going to splash some cold water on his face to help get rid of that, as Mad would describe it, ‘gross feeling in his eyes’ after having strong emotions. Mare never questioned that since it always helped in the recovery process. 

The bathroom sink was running when Mad’s phone started buzzing and Mare saw that it was the library calling and he decided to answer it himself. 

“This is Mare.” Mare introduced himself by name, knowing that most of the librarians who knew Mad also knew that Mare was his boyfriend. He nodded along to what the librarian said, their apology for what Mad went through and they made promises that there would be consequences for the ones that insulted Mad. “Thank you. I appreciate that and I know Mad will as well. By chance, does your library have security cameras? It’s just a reassurance thing for me.” Mare added a charming chuckle and nodded again as he got his answer. “Thank you again. I’ll be sure to fill Mad in on everything. You all have a lovely evening.” He waited for the librarian’s farewell before hanging up. 

Mare ran his tongue over his teeth, glaring at the ground as he ran an idea through his head. He cracked his knuckles to have his magic go, using it to multitask and set everything up in the room for Mad’s soon return. Mare kicked his shoes off and sat on the edge of the bed, taking a focused breath as he kept his magic going, moving around the room in a thick purple mist. 

“Mare?” Mad asked from the opened bathroom door, a confused tilt to his head since he had felt some of Mare’s anger again and wasn’t expecting to see Mare’s magic. 

“I got impatient.” Mare chuckled and with another breath, the mist was gone. 

“Did you get cold?” Mad pointed to the sweater that rested on Mare’s lap.

“Nope. This is for you.” Mare stood up and handed Mad the sweater and a closer look let Mad see that it was one of Mare’s oversized ones, one of his favorites to steal. “I’m going to take a turn in the bathroom, you get changed and comfortable in the bed. You can start the movie as well.” 

“Thank you, Mare.” Mad kissed Mare’s cheek. 

“Anything for you, starlight.” Mare held Mad’s face with a hand and kissed him in return. “I’ll be right back.” He spoke against Mad’s lips. 

“Okay.” Mad hummed happily and had a light smile when Mare pulled away. 

Mare slipped into the bathroom and by the time he was out, Mad was tucked under the covers, hugging Mare’s pillow and half-asleep as he watched the movie. He looked so precious, the sweater being too large for him, how he nuzzled his head against the pillow, and how his eyes lit up a bit when he saw Mare. 

“I am too weak for this man.” Mare joked to himself when Mad put the pillow back and held an arm out to Mare, silently asking him to get into the bed. It wasn’t that hard for Mad to convince Mare to do most things. Kicking his shoes off and sliding under the covers, Mare wrapped his arm around Mad once more as Mad moved to rest his head on his chest, relaxing almost instantly. Mare ran his fingers through Mad’s hair, letting him rest, and wasn’t shocked at seeing Mad’s breathing getting slower and deeper the longer they lay together. 

When Mare was sure that Mad was fully out of it, he reached over for his phone, sending a quick text to Anti and Phantom for them to meet up later to help him with a ‘job’.

He was going to make those fuckers pay.

----------

@bookwormscififan

#rattyboyisemo #madmare #veggie writes #Mare gonna *fight*

[nimata-beroya]

WIP Titles game

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks for the tag @annwayne !! ☺️

Let's see (in random order of priority):

Goodbye (Merrical)

Unbroken (Andor/Rebels)

toothpick thursday tbbaw2023 (TBB)

The Betrothal (Kalluzeb)

Rough Awakening (TBB)

Sandawuni va umtidagir (The Mandalorian)

How to save a life (Foxiyo)

Deconstructed reality (Kalluzeb)

A reason to fight (Kalluzeb)

The One to survive (OC squad, TCW)

The enemy within (Kalluzeb)

Uninvited (Foxiyo)

Praising Crosshair (TBB)

Everything I do, I do it for you (Foxiyo)

Warrior's fortune (Kalluzeb)

6 more for TBB Appreciation week (TBB)

The list has grown longer since the last time I did this (and these don't include the ones I have in hard standby) Oops 😅 That's my curse, always having an idea floating around my head. My problem is to finish them 🫣 Anyway... You can ask me whatever you want about any of these!! Please 🥺👉👈 Pretty please!!

Ugh I need to tag 16 people? Ok! Feel free to ignore the tagging if you want. No pressure: @takadasaiko @photogirl894 @renee561 @seleneisrising @genericficerblog @airlockfailure @yukipri @ahsoka-its-all-of-us @rachaelkelleher @probablynot-john @mistr3ssquickly @sunshinesdaydream @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @apocalyp-tech-a @kanerallels @fanfictasia anyone else who wants to do it!

#wip title game #mare writes star wars #the bad batch #tbb #the mandalorian #sw rebels #the clone wars #tcw #kalluzeb #foxiyo #merrical #andor

[lordgrimwing]

Brewing Darkness #05

[For C+C week hosted by @candcweek. Prompt: Contrast]

It would have been easier to just say that Celegorm came back different, Curufin admitted to himself, tossing another pitchfork-full of hay from the barn loft to the mangers below, but he couldn’t say for sure Celegorm was different or if, in his absence, Curufin had  forgotten how he was really like—how his laugh cracked sharp and loud like a whip, how he watched people with the same intensity as four-legged game, how he knew just what to say to pick a fight, how rough he could be during sex if Curufin didn’t restrain him. Had he missed his brother so much over the months since he ran off that he’d imagined a softer version of him to soothe the aching wound inside him?

He didn’t think so. 

(Caranthir rather smugly told him that, no, Celegorm hadn’t changed, he was just finally done playing nice and picking favorites. Their brother, Caranthir said, was exactly like he remembered)

But even if Celegorm was different, did it matter? 

The whole family changed in his absence. The things he did around the homestead still needed to be done. In the beginning, everyone said they were only filling in until he came back, but months passed and they got used to the new routine until it felt normal, until there wasn’t a visible hole left behind. When he returned, leading his gray mare, field dressed elk flung over her back like he’d only been away on one of his hunts with Aredhel, the spot he’d left wasn’t there any more.

Did it matter if his presence felt jarring and wrong sometimes? Did it matter if the shiver that went up Curufin’s back when he grinned at him sometimes felt like a knife scraping over his skin? 

The sharp edges would wear down with time. Things would feel right again.

He’d been telling himself that for weeks now.

Mangers filled, he leaned the pitchfork against the wall and climbed down from the loft, stomach grumbling for dinner. Before, Celegorm saw to the animals in the evening, fed them, hauled water from the well, but Curufin and Maglor took over that chore. They hadn’t considered giving it back yet.

Maybe that was part of the problem. Celegorm couldn’t fit back into the family if they didn’t make room for him. No wonder he spent more time in town and alone in the woods now when there wasn’t anything for him to do here. 

Distracted by his thoughts, Curufin didn’t realize he was walking past the gray mare’s stall. There was no greater proof that Celegorm’s old spot was gone than how everyone else seemed to have lost hard learned lessons about his horse.

The horse raised her head from the hay as the elf walked past. With an angry snort, she lunged for the stall door. Her teeth collided with the side of Curufin’s head as she tried to grab his hair.

He swore and dove to the farside of the aisle where Maedhros’ giant gelding stuck his shaggy head out to see what the ruckus was about. The vile mare snorted, pinned her ears back and extended her neck to try to nip the gelding. He tossed his head to the side (he was too tall to toss it up) and went back to his food.

“You haven’t changed,” Curufin grumbled at his brother’s beloved, temperamental horse as he rubbed the sore spot on his head (it matched the sore spots elsewhere gifted to him by Celegorm).

She snorted and kicked the door. 

“Same to you,” He grumbled and left before she got any more worked up.

The walk across the yard to the house was quiet. 

Nights became steadily quieter after Celegorm left and his dogs slowly disappeared. They were always disappearing, whether because they were killed by a predator, found a place with better food, or just got lost in the shifting trees and mountains. More often than not, those that wandered back were shot to put them out of their misery. Normally he was always bringing more home or paying extra attention to new litter of puppies so that the population stayed fairly stable. Once he ran off, though, no one replaced the ones that vanished, until only a handful remained. The nights were quieter without the dogs. No one cared (at least not enough to go looking for replacements in town). 

Only, the night bird calls seemed to be disappearing too over the last few weeks. They were all growing discomforted by the building silence. Fëanor had taken to shutting himself in a shed with some project late into the night as he worried over the changes.

Something moved in the corner of Curufin’s eye. He took two quick steps toward the house before chastising himself for being so jumpy. The homestead was safe. There was no reason to act like a scared child alone in the dark just because things were a little unsettled. He turned to look for whatever had startled him.

“Hey, Curu,” Celegorm said, slinking out from the shadowed trees. He had a bow and quiver of arrows slung over one shoulder but his hands were empty.

Curufin’s chest relaxed. He hadn’t realized Celegorm went hunting and it was rather late to be walking alone, but everyone was adjusting to a new normal. “No luck today?”

Celegorm smiled. “I was just practicing.”

“Pa doesn’t want anyone in the woods after sundown.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. It wasn’t exactly a new rule, the dense forest grew harder to navigate with every passing year, but their father became more serious about everyone being in the glen by nightfall since last summer (since Aredhel crawled home and Celegorm went chasing after her abductor).

“I lost track of time.” He said it in that way that always meant he knew he did something he shouldn’t and would do it again. He got them into the best kind of trouble when they were kids. 

The smile was mostly nostalgia. “At least you haven’t missed supper.”

“You’d feed me, anyway, even if I did,” Celegorm said, throwing an arm around his shorter brother’s shoulder and giving him an affectionate squeeze as they walked to the kitchen door. His hand and shirt sleeve were wet and cold against Curufin. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Only if you brought something for me to cook.” They spent many fond nights over stewed rabbit or fowl. 

Celegorm barked out a laugh, sudden and loud in the silent yard. “I’ll be sure to bring you something fresh.” His hand squeezed Curufin’s arm, fingernails nipping at his skin.

#uh oh #me and *the entity* are rubbing our proverbial hands together so hard right now #one more c+c snap shot to go to finish off their relationship --- i mean the week #celegorm's mare is a monster #she has killed and she'll do it again #she's the meanest crankiest horse #celegorm #curufin #c+c week 2024 #old gods au #the silmarillion #grimwing writes