it finally finished omfg

“Okay look, I know I have royal duties to attend to Ignis, but rescuing the Chocobos comes first.”

  • anakin: if you are suffering as much as i am, please, tell me
  • padmé: tell that to kanjiklub
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This took me a long time to finish, but I am happy with the result! Also this is 11″x17″ size so maybe it’ll be a future print. Hope you like it! (Reference )

College AU [3/?]

Drabble: 

Keep reading

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We are the last of the Morgensterns.

anonymous asked:

Will you ever write another school/college au? I am a sucker for the friends to lovers (enemies to lovers, same difference) trope. Call it basic and cheesy but the funniest shite happens in school settings so yeah. X) Comeback Kids was epic. Don't get me wrong, MMV is possibly the fic I like the most, I am digging both the mature vibes and how much deeper the insight into the characters' minds is. But I still miss the silly bickering and the light hearted atmosphere. TvT

AHAHH YES i’ve been thinking about writing an abo (alpha tae/beta kook) college au since around may and have been jotting down ideas for it!! i literally JUST finished my stripper fic (finally dkjfhkdjsfkjdss omfg) and i only have to edit the rest now, so i started a loose plan for an abo fic. i’m thinking like enemies to lovers + shitty grunge band + college setting au….

04.30.2015 - “You don’t have to act so brave.”


Finally finished this! I wanted to draw Ed for a while, and when I found out Netflix is pulling fma off their list, I just had to watch Brotherhood one last time. FMA is like.. all cool and funny, but at it’s core, it’s a really sad heartfelt story. I cry so many times watching it! I love Ed and Alphonse! ;A; soo much.. will make this a print for fanime too

Chasing The Sun Part 4 - The Dawn - An Elucien Fic

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. This is the final part (at long last) enjoy! 

Title:  Chasing The Sun Part 4 - The Dawn

Summary: Set midst ACOTAR 3, war is brewing and Elain helps to prepare Lucien for battle while being terrified of losing him.

TeaserTracing the wicked slash across his ribs that she had stitched earlier, the one that she felt tear through him thanks to their bond she trembles. It wouldn’t have taken much more for that wound to have been fatal. The realisation how easily she could have lost him today terrifies her.

Link: AO3 

Lucien watches her closely as she allows herself to properly take him in for the first time since his return. Elain’s hands had been so steady the whole time she had patched his wounds and washed him down. But they now shake uncontrollably as they gently skim over the surface of his skin. She barely dares to make contact, as though she’s afraid he’ll crumble to ash and leave her alone again if she touches him the way she longs to.

Her fingertips whisper like a midnight breeze over the still healing bruises and broken skin that now mar her mate’s body. Mapping them out like scars in the night sky, small tears in an otherwise seamless canvas that now tells her the story of violence he was subjected to. She shivers every time he progress catches on yet another rough, uneven part of him.

Scars don’t usually bother her on him they are only another piece of proof that he’s a fighter, a survivor. But these – these brutal, raw marks that only make her think of the pain he suffered through alone make her stomach turn. And she despises every one of them.

Tracing the wicked slash across his ribs that she had stitched earlier, the one that she felt tear through him thanks to their bond she trembles. It wouldn’t have taken much more for that wound to have been fatal. The realisation how easily she could have lost him today terrifies her.

Flattening her palm against his ribs she closes her eyes. Never has she been so glad of her heightened Fae senses, the ones she’d cursed endlessly for weeks after her Making, than now. It’s as though she holds his heart in her hand. She can feel every beat pulse through her, rapid and frantic but steady and continuous. It’s the best thing she’s ever felt in her life.

Slowly, Lucien’s hand lifts from the water, beads of moisture clinging to his skin like tears waiting to fall. Then he tenderly covers her hand with his own, pressing it harder to his chest. Holding it there he silently assures her that what she feels is real, that he is real. He seems to know the doubts and manic uncertainties that had whirled through her and just how to quiet them. 

Raising her head Elain tentatively opens her eyes and meets his gaze again. Her heart splinters with relief when she finds him looking back at her. He still looks a little dazed and shaken but it's unmistakably him- her Lucien, her mate.

Pressing forwards Elain tenderly kisses his lips, brief but sweet, not wanting to push him or pressure him into giving more than he’s ready too. His other hand lifts from the water to run through her thick golden-brown hair. She feels herself sag against him, nuzzling affectionately into his touch when he gently cups her cheek in his hand.

“You came back to me,” she whispers softly. His thumb drags softly down over her lips, as though he wants to commit every single bow and dip and valley of her body to memory and this is his last chance to do so before she slips away from him again.

“I promised you I would,” he murmurs back, his voice brittle and hoarse.

With heartbreaking tenderness his fingers flutter to settle against her cheek. His thumbs are still gently stroking, connecting them and calming her. Leaning in again Elain cups his face in both hands and kisses him again. 

She kisses him the way she’s wanted to kiss him since he left her. The way she longed to kiss him when she first saw him stumbling up the steps towards her before she saw that he needed her. She kisses him hard and long and deep and slow. Her tongue eases into his mouth as his fingers slide through her hair, pulling her closer, asking for more.

When she finally draws away they’re both breathing hard. Their breath mingles in the fraction of space left between their lips. “I thought you had died,” she blurts out without thinking. The words that have been tearing her apart since she felt that blade tear through him, tear through them both, stumbling out of her now.

Lucien freezes beneath her. But she can’t stop as she strokes his cheeks and trembles and gasps out, “I thought you had died, Lucien. For a moment there – I felt it.” Her fingers trace the wound again. “I felt it,” she repeats the words choking from her in a broken sob, “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I would never see you again. I thought-“

Lucien folds her tenderly into his arms, cradling her head gently against his chest. Rubbing her back steadily he does the best he can to soothe her. He can’t bear the sound of the crack that splinters through her voice. And he can’t stand the pulse of terror he still remembers slamming into him in the midst of battle, forcing him to get up, get up, get up.  She had saved his life then, making him rise and live and fight for her.

All he wants is to calm her and comfort her and assure her that everything is fine now. She hasn’t lost him. He’s here, he’s with her, he’s got her and he’s never leaving her again.

“I’m-“ he begins but his throat closes up, refusing to let the word leave him. Elain withdraws slightly to look at him. Swallowing past the tightness in his chest he rasps, “I’m all right-“

The lie cracks on its way out, fissuring through him until he feels himself shatter right in front of her. In truth he’s not all right. And he hasn’t been for a long time.

Bowing his head and looking away from her he begins trembling violently, as though with sudden fever. Struggling furiously with himself he tries to regain his composure tries to find something, anything to cling to to stop himself losing everything.

When he dares to look up, through the blurred haze of his vision he finds Elain’s eyes. She squeezes his hand once and nods to him before she leans forwards and embraces him. Gathering him into her arms she holds him tightly to her and soothingly strokes back his long hair.

He understands-understands what she wants, understands what she’s encouraging him to do and why. For the first time in centuries Lucien lets himself break down entirely. It starts off small. 

A single, strangled sob manages to slip through the walls and restraints he’s bound and banded himself with for years. Then he feels her arms around him and hears her murmur in his ear, “It’s all right, it’s all right, I’m here, I’ve got you, it’s all right.” And he breaks in her arms.

Every ragged, ruined seam he’s spent decades roughly stitching shut whenever they began to fray splits open. Every faint fracture in his soul shatters into a gaping chasm. Every bit of grief and pain he’s kept locked up inside himself for too long erupts out of him.

She keeps him safe through it all.

She holds him in her arms, holds him close to her, holds him together as best she can. And she shields him from this harsh world when he’s at his most vulnerable. Every demon that’s spawned from the ravaged darkness he’s drowned in for centuries rises up to tear him to shreds. But she stops them, sheltering him, refusing to let them touch him.

Shuddering he sobs against her chest as she presses her lips to the top of his head and rubs his back, murmuring to him. Her breath is hot on his head, her small hands are calming and quieting and soothing. He holds nothing back from her, hides nothing from her. He allows the tension that’s suffocated him for centuries to release at last in the safety of her embrace.

He loves her. He loves her own quiet strength, so much greater than his own. He loves her firm, unyielding hope. He loves her tender empathy and compassion. He loves this one person so much. Because she is the one person he can lose himself with and trust to always show him the way back. She is the one person he doesn’t have to constantly be strong for, who will support him sometimes too. She is the one person who loves him without strings or restraints or conditions. She expects no service and forces no horrors upon him to make him prove the depth of his devotion. She simply loves him as he is; as he’s hers.

That one person he loves with all his battered, broken heart.

The bond whispers with her voice that this is all right. It’s all right to be vulnerable and shattered and need people; that it’s all right to not be all right  at all.

Elain holds him the entire time, never shrinking or flinching from him. Even as his chest aches, his ribs seize up and his throat turns raw and stings with every ragged breath she only holds him. She murmurs soft, soothing words to him. Her fingers softly stroke through his hair while she rubs his back and rocks him gently back and forth in her arms.

At last his sobs begin to subside and he’s able to suck down deep, gasping gulps of air he clings to her. Mechanically dragging his fingers through her hair he chokes out, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Elain, I’m-“

Hushing him she draws back and slides her fingers under his chin and makes him look up at her. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she growls quietly to him, her voice trembling with emotion. “Do you hear me?” she demands, “Nothing.”

Overcome, Lucien only nods hopelessly and pulls her to him again, unable to bear the sudden space that keeps him from her. They hold each other, Elain resuming her gentle rubbing of his scarred back while he peppers her soft, creamy skin with gentle kisses.

“You will be all right,” she promises him softly. Reaching up she gently wipes away the fresh tears that fall from his eyes before she takes his hand in hers and squeezes it. “We’ll get through this,” she tells him, putting a firm emphasis on the first word. “Together,” she adds and he looks up at her.

Gentle and quiet and unassuming, his mate, his Elain. But she has more strength than any who were on that killing field with him today. It's  a strength that is too easily overlooked and underestimated. But he cherishes it and cherishes her. His mate – his mate.

He kisses her again.

****

Love ripples through her in great pulsing waves as the bond between them bursts into life again. It bridges them and connects them in a way that suggests not even death could part them and stop her sensing him ever again.

Sinking in to his kiss Elain closes her eyes and parts her lips for his tongue, whimpering faintly at his taste. Lucien’s hand cradles the back of her head and his fingers slide deep into her hair always pulling her closer, closer, closer.

Rubbing noses with him when they finally draw away she settles herself against him, head on its accustomed place on his shoulder. He still shudders from time to time, causing her to grip him a little more tightly, anchoring him to her, reminding him of where he is and what’s real.

Each time he gently kisses the top of her head in silent thanks and she nuzzles affectionately into his neck. When she shivers he heats the water around him with a trickle of his magic and cups it in his hand, tipping it over her exposed skin to keep her warm.

They hold each other for a long time until the sun begins to descend, staining the sky with deep reds and oranges then a rich indigo as it slides even further beneath the lip of the horizon. Reluctantly, Elain withdraws from Lucien’s tender, warm embrace and clambers carefully from the tub and into a towel.

Turning she coaxes Lucien out after her wrapping him in the same large, fluffy towel with her. They dry themselves and Elain shrugs on a light robe before helping Lucien dress. She helps him in to thin, loose clothes that won’t make him feel as though he’s being suffocated by the fabric.

Taking his hand in hers once more she guides him out of the bathing room. One look at his face, the way the little colour he’s regained drains from it and she understands, feeling the fear rippling through him. He can’t bear the thought of sinking in to bed or sleep just yet. Despite the fact he’s utterly exhausted, she knows he’s petrified of the nightmares that will no doubt find him in that darkness.

 Tugging gently she leads him out onto the terrace instead where the balmy even spring air welcomes them out with a soft caress. Steering him down onto their usual perch on the old rocking chair set amidst the many pots that burst with her plants she settles him there. Smiling as he looks up at her expectantly and opens his arms wide in silent invitation to join him.

Elain lowers herself down into his lap, curling up like a cat, tucking her legs beneath her and nestling in to him. Stretching one of his legs out in front of him he rocks them back and forth in a slow, easy rhythm. Elain rests her head on his chest and he rests his chin on top, enveloping her body with his own.

Her sensitive Fae ears are able to hear his heart beat clearly when she rests her head on his chest. It still pounds in a frantic, desperate rhythm against his ribs, like the galloping hooves of war horses in the midst of a charge. Raising herself slightly she peers sternly up at him, palm braced against his ribs. “Do you feel panicky?” she asks him, voice sharper than she’d intended.

Eyes distant he shakes his head, throat bobbing as he swallows. “It’s just battle fever,” he murmurs. His voice is still unusually rough and hoarse, “It’ll pass.”

Pursing her lips she watches him intently for another few moments. However his breathing remains even and he seems otherwise all right so she allows herself to lie back down against him. Absently, as though not consciously under orders to do so Lucien’s hand lifts and begins to trail up and down her spine. He does this sometimes, allowing his fingers to softly feather over her body. She loves it. 

“Lucien,” she murmurs quietly, hand splaying across his heart.

“Mm?” He looks down at her, meeting her wide brown eyes.

“Please,” she pauses, nails flexing to clench his shirt as she takes a deep, shuddering breath to compose herself. Lucien waits patiently, still rubbing her back in big, broad circular motions, reminding her he’s here. “Please never scare me like that again,” she whispers against him as she burrows in against his chest.

Placing one hand on the back of her head Lucien lightly kisses her brow, soothing her. “I love you,” she mumbles, grabbing a thick fistful of his shirt as though she never means to let him go again, and maybe she never will. “I love you, Lucien. I need you. I can’t lose you. I can’t, please, please. I love you.”

He tenderly kisses the top of her head, cradling, her to him and sending soft pulses of reassurance down the bond to her to comfort her and calm her.

****

Lucien continues to rock them back and forth, wrapping his hands around her ankles and gently drawing her closer to him. “I’m here,” he murmurs onto her hair, “I’m here and I have no plans to ever leave you, Elain.”

She huffs affectionately against his cheek before kissing it softly then settling back down. Sensing her exhaustion Lucien begins gently rubbing her back again. “Sleep dove,” he murmurs to her, kissing her temple.

Yawning she nestles into him and he feels the ghost of a smile dare to whisper across his lips in response to her. It doesn’t take her long to drop off in his arms. He remains watching her as she begins to mumble incoherently but peacefully to herself. The first time she’d done that in bed beside him he’d jumped so hard it had woken her up with a little yelp. Now he finds it oddly calming- something familiar and constant, something that’s achingly her.

He can’t sleep. Every time he dares to close his eyes he relives the battle. Images flash through his mind like lightning through a black sky. The Fae he slaughtered, their blood hot on his skin as Nara’s had been when his father butchered her before him. Their dying screams echoing on and on and on in his head. The clash of steel still shudders through his aching bones.

 The battle still rages and rages on inside him using his soul as its battlefield. His heartstrings twanging like bows. His heart hammers like the ceaseless drums. His blood is the rain that burst from the heavens when the clouds split like the skin of his foes. His hollow lungs are torn up to make weary banners. While the never ending orders-to fight, to rage, to die, to defy, to live-shudder through his splintering bones.

Trembling, Lucien buries his face in her soft hair, breathing her in deep to help soothe him and ground him. Not real. Not real. Not real, not real, not real, not real, he tells himself. But it was real. That blood would stain his hands and haunt his soul for years to come.

Elain reaches out in her sleep, her hand wrapping around the collar of his shirt and closes around the thin fabric, clinging tightly to him. The sight soothes him somehow. That she is still there for him, still finding ways to comfort him even in her sleep. Then her scent, their scent, home, washes over him again and Lucien feels his pounding heart steady and calm for her.

After a long while spent in her embrace he collects up the final few lost parts of himself Lucien takes a deep breath and braces himself. The sun has set fully now and there’s a sharp chill in the air he knows will soon wake his mate if they remain out here.

Gathering her securely in his arms Lucien stands and carries her into the bedroom. She stirs in his arms but doesn’t wake, only nestles more closely against him when he lifts her. She sleeps on when he peels back the sheets and lays her down on it but her hand reaches out, searching blindly for him on some buried instinct.

Smiling softly Lucien settles himself on the bed beside her, curling an arm around her and drawing her in close. At once she burrows against his chest before she stills contentedly against him. Fingers absently trailing through her hair he strokes it tenderly back from her beautiful face. Lucien gazes down at her in awe. Not for the first time he finds himself wondering how something so perfect, so gentle and kind and pure, can possibly be his. He doesn’t understand why the Mother would have blessed him so.

He watches her sleep for a long time, finding a sense of calm in her gentle dreams. The whole time she remains pressed tightly against him, as though even in sleep she’s reluctant to let him go or be separated from him again. He knows how much it terrified her, how much she had hated being alone and apart from him while he was in danger and she could do nothing. And while he’d have given everything he was and has and might have become to keep her away from that battle a part of him felt otherwise. The part that marks the spot where the bond connects him to her understands because it longed for her to be by his side.

Now his soul hums peacefully at the rightness of this moment. He might still be broken and shattered and utterly terrified of what’s to come but in this moment he is where he belongs – safe in the arms of his mate.

Slowly, her quiet presence lulls him into enough calm that he’s finally able to give in to the demands of his wrecked, aching body. Still holding Elain close to him he sinks into his own uneasy dreams beside her.

****