#solar writes

[auniverseforgotten]

And As Icarus Fell So Shall You (run your mouth)

Fandom: Transformers - All Media Types

Pairing: Bumblebee/Starscream (past but there are Absolutely still feelings there)

Rating: T

Summary:

Forget what humans and their inaccurate movies tell you: bees have always been meant to fly. And as their resident flier, Bumblebee is going to solve this stupid planet’s stupid problem that was kicked off for stupid reasons and then they are all going HOME.

Written for Febuwhump 2025 Day 15: Icarus

It's still February right guys. RIGHT GUYS. IT'S JUST. FEBRUARY -does bad math- 88TH RIGHT

Anyway still working on these! The burnout and all the shit going on irl just caught up rip

[socksandbuttons]

I'm sorry this was so funny- And he thought that was the kid he DIDNT need to worry about too much

[hayatheauthor]

"Why do you care so much about accidentally leaving people out?" Because I've had friend groups where they were the planets and I was their Pluto.

I've had friend groups where our dynamics revolved around a Sun, with everyone vying for their attention if only to bask in their light for a mere moment. Where our thinly strung bonds collapsed the second our Sun left.

I've had friend groups where they bonded as Saturn's rings, finding solace in their shared shortcomings while isolating those more talented than them.

But I've also had friend groups where we bond as Neptune and Uranus—so similar we could be known as twins. Friend groups like Venus and Earth: so awfully different, yet it was those differences that kept us together.

And I would rather create a social system like the latter than the former.

[solarmorrigan]

The Witch and The Carpenter

For the @steddie-spooktober day 23 prompt: Witch Rated: T | Words: 2862 | CW: None | Tags: fantasy AU, witch!Eddie Munson, carpenter!Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington gets migraines, Eddie Munson needs a hug, Steve Harrington needs a hug, they're perfect for each other hugs all around Divider credit: @saradika

Eddie hears about the new carpenter within hours of his rolling into town – of course he does; any witch worth their salt knows exactly what’s going on in their town at all times (it’s hard not to, when you’re the one providing the potions and charms that help everyone else keep their secrets).

His name is Steve, and he’s come with hopes of filling the hole left when Benny, the previous town carpenter, had died without an heir to his business. People say that he seems hardworking and capable, that he’s strong and handsome, that he’s friendly enough, but that there’s something a little distant about him – a little lonely (though the older ladies who give Eddie gossip do tend to romanticize at times).

Eddie doesn’t expect to meet him as soon as he does, but before even his first week in town is out, Steve turns up on Eddie’s doorstep, looking at once earnest and wary, and just as handsome as the gossip had said.

(Not that that last bit has any bearing on anything.)

“People in town say you’re the one to see for remedies,” Steve says when Eddie gets the door open.

“People in town say a lot of things,” Eddie replies. “But in this case, they’re right. Come on in.”

Inside, Eddie finds out that Steve is seeking a remedy for headaches. But not just any headaches; these seem to be full-body affairs that can keep Steve down for days at a time. He gets dizzy, nauseous, is bothered by any noise, and even candlelight can be too bright for his eyes.

Eddie mixes him up something strong, gives him strict instructions on how it’s to be taken, and then moves on to the matter of payment.

At that, Steve begins to look sheepish.

“I’ve only just set up my business. I… don’t have much money yet,” he admits. “I was hoping you might be willing to do a trade.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him. “And what do you have to trade that you think might interest me?”

“Your door?” Steve offers.

“…what about my door?” Eddie asks after a long moment of confused silence.

“It sticks. You were having trouble getting it closed earlier. I could fix that,” Steve says.

And it’s true – Eddie’s front door does stick. So does the back door. The shutters often refuse to open or shut properly, and the porch sags a little, and there’s a leak in the roof when it rains hard enough. While Eddie is the best in the business when it comes to working magic, he’s not so handy with home repairs.

(It doesn’t particularly help that witches exist in an odd sort of social limbo. Every town needs one—this is generally acknowledged as truth—but no one particularly wants them around. Eddie lives a little ways away from town, up against the forest line, where it’s easy to ignore him and his shabby house unless someone needs something from him. No one has ever exactly been chomping at the bit to come help him fix the place up.)

Eddie shouldn’t say yes. He often trades goods and services, but he doesn’t know this man. He doesn’t know if he’s reliable, doesn’t even know if his work is any good – but something in him wants to agree, anyway.

Maybe it’s the earnestness of his offer, or the hope in his expression that he’s clearly trying to quash, or maybe Eddie’s just a sucker for a pretty face, but eventually he finds he can’t say anything but, “Okay, sure.”

“Thank you,” Steve sighs as he accepts the potion. “How would tomorrow work for you?”

Still not entirely sure he expects Steve to show up, Eddie says that tomorrow is fine. If he doesn’t show, if he thinks he can fleece a witch and continue living peacefully in town, he’ll quickly find out otherwise. And if he does come back – well, it would be nice to have a door that doesn’t stick anymore.

“What’s your favorite color?” Steve asks before he leaves.

“Red,” Eddie answers, one brow raised in a question that Steve doesn’t answer.

“Red.” Steve nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The next day, Steve is back bright and early with a bag of tools and a pot of paint. He tells Eddie not to mind him, he’ll just get to work and try to stay out of Eddie’s way, but Eddie can’t help but watch as Steve inspects the door hinges, the frame, and then not only trims the door down, but sands and paints it, too.

Red: Eddie’s favorite color.

Anyway, it isn’t Eddie’s fault for getting distracted. There’s an unfairly attractive man doing manual labor in front of his house, what’s he supposed to do?

Eventually, though, Eddie does force himself to look away. He shouldn’t get attached to things he knows he can’t have. He’s the witch; he’s in the background of everyone else’s story, he doesn’t get to have one of his own – especially not with someone like Steve.

And that’s fine, Eddie had accepted that long ago. He likes being able to help people, and it’s sort of the only thing he’s any good at. He won’t deny that it stings sometimes, the way people talk about witches—about him—but what should he care about what other people think?

In any case, it doesn’t matter, because once Steve finishes with the door, it’s unlikely the two of them will cross paths again any time soon.

Steve finishes the door (it now opens and closes smooth as butter) and goes home.

And comes back the next week.

“Finished what I gave you already?” Eddie asks.

Steve shrugs. “Stress always makes the headaches worse, and with travelling and setting up shop…”

Eddie nods, pursing his lips in thought. “I could make you a bigger batch, but it would cost you more.”

“I can fix those shutters.” Steve nods towards the windows. “And you mentioned something about the back door?”

“You’re going to neglect your real customers, spending all your time fixing up my house,” Eddie teases.

“I can make the time,” Steve says, smiling at Eddie. “I think it’s worth it.”

Eddie has to turn away again, reminding himself that Steve is talking about the medicine, not him.

He fixes up a bigger batch of that same strong potion he’d made the previous week (“I’ve never had anything work so well,” Steve had practically gushed. “It was more than worth my work.”) and Steve comes back the next afternoon to start work on the back door.

They talk more this time, when Steve takes breaks, when Eddie is between tasks and brings him cool water to drink, and Eddie finds that Steve is funny and sweet, and catty and sharp, and a bigger gossip than even Eddie himself. And he reminds himself, again and again, that Steve is not for him. This isn’t how the story goes.

Witches don’t get nice things.

(And that’s fine. Eddie is fine with it. He’s fine.)

They do, however, get increasingly nice houses, apparently. Or at least Eddie does. Steve paints the back door red, too, and then gets to work fixing the shutters. Those, to Eddie’s bemusement, he paints a buttery, golden yellow.

“They don’t exactly scream ‘witch’s cottage’,” Eddie points out.

Steve only shrugs. “It’s my favorite color,” he says, flashing a grin at Eddie. “Besides, I think they go with the doors.”

Eddie doesn’t argue.

It goes on like this. Eddie brews medicine for Steve’s headaches, and Steve finds things around the house to work on. He fixes the leak in the roof, the creaky porch steps, the drawer in the kitchen that will never stay closed; his business picks up in town, but he always makes time for Eddie.

As much as he can, at least.

“I’ve got a few big orders built up,” he says apologetically one afternoon as he collects his medicine from Eddie. “I’m not sure when I’ll have time to get to the cabinets like I said I would, but I can pay you–”

“Nah.” Eddie waves Steve’s offer away before he can pull out any coins. “I’ll just put it on your tab.”

Eddie doesn’t do tabs.

Steve looks skeptical. “If you’re sure…”

“Of course I am. And if, for some reason, you welch on our deal,” Eddie gives Steve a sharp grin, “I do know where you live.”

“You should come visit, then,” Steve says.

Eddie falters. “What?”

“If you want to, I mean.” Steve shrugs, avoiding Eddie’s gaze. “Just– if I can’t make it out here, maybe you could come see me, instead.”

And again, he’s so earnest, trying so hard not to look too hopeful, that Eddie can’t say anything but, “Alright, I will.”

The way Steve lights up at that is worth just about anything he could have Eddie do.

Eddie tries to remind himself of this as he ventures into town the next week.

He doesn’t go into the town proper very often; he grows a lot of what he needs and trades for a lot of the rest of it with customers; he’s a rare enough sight that some people stare, and whisper, and Eddie does his best to hold his head up high and walk without a care.

And if he pulls faces at some of the more egregious offenders, causing them to gasp and scurry away, scandalized, well – Eddie is allowed his simple pleasures.

Anyway, Steve is all smiles when he finds Eddie at his door, and that’s the most important thing. He ushers him through the shop (a large, warm space that smells of wood shavings and sweet smoke, just as Eddie’s come to associate with Steve) and into the living space above. He serves Eddie tea and cake with a studied nonchalance that says he doesn’t want Eddie to realize how excited he is.

How excited he is to see Eddie.

Eddie searches for anything else to focus on before he does something ridiculous, like act on the rising warm feeling in his chest. He finds it, oddly, in Steve’s eyes.

“Have you been sleeping?” Eddie asks him; the shadows beneath his eyes look almost like bruises.

Steve shrugs. “I’ve been busy.”

His hands are shaking, Eddie realizes, as he pours the tea for the both of them. Steve must notice Eddie noticing, because he folds his hands back into his lap with a little huff.

“Happens sometimes,” he says brusquely. “More annoying than anything. Carpenters are supposed to have steady hands.”

(Eddie wonders sometimes what must have happened to Steve, but he’s seen some of the scars that adorn his body, has seen the faraway look that gets into his eyes from time to time, and he thinks he knows. Steve has the bearing of a soldier, and the eyes of a man too kind to have ever been made to fight for a king who doesn’t give a damn about him.)

Taking the hint, Eddie changes the subject, but the thought of Steve’s shaking hands follows him home. All those tools, all those sharp things he works with – maybe Steve isn’t his, not his to worry over or to care of, but Eddie decides he’s damn well going to do it anyway.

The next time Steve comes by, Eddie slips him an extra packet along with his usual potion.

“You brew it like tea,” Eddie says to Steve’s confused glance. “Should help steady your hands, when you need it.”

Steve stares down at the packet for several silent seconds. “You didn’t have to–”

“But I wanted to.”

Shaking his head, Steve looks back up at Eddie. “How can I–”

Eddie waves him off before the question is fully formed. “Let’s say it’s on the house, for my best customer.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” Steve says, not without amusement.

“Then how about my favorite customer?” Eddie offers.

Steve is smiling now. “Are you allowed to have favorites?”

“I’m the witch,” Eddie reminds him with a smirk. “I can do whatever I want.”

And so it goes.

And so it might have continued going, if it hadn’t been for the night Steve turns up at Eddie’s door well after dark, looking grey and haggard and haunted.

Eddie ushers him in, sits him down, makes him some tea, and tries to get some words out of him.

“Do you make anything to help people sleep?” is what Steve finally asks.

“I can,” Eddie says slowly, watching Steve carefully.

Steve drops his face into his hands, rubbing harshly at his eyes. “I just– I just want to sleep. I don’t want to dream, just for one night,” he says, so low that Eddie has to strain to catch all the words. “Just once.”

Eddie weighs his options. He knows how to make an elixir for a deep, dreamless sleep; he won’t deny that he’s used it himself, when certain memories had become too much, but that’s exactly how he knows that it hits hard and fast. It can be disorienting – maybe even a little dangerous, if you don’t know what you’re doing.

“I can make something for you,” Eddie says, “but only if you stay here tonight. I don’t want you walking back home in the dark, it isn’t safe.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to impose,” Steve says, as if he could ever be an imposition to Eddie.

“I’d feel better knowing you’re here,” Eddie says, and that seems to break Steve’s resolve.

By the time Eddie finishes the elixir, Steve is barely awake in his seat. He doesn’t even argue when Eddie leads him to his own bed, lays him down, and tells him to drink.

He’s out like a light in minutes.

Eddie closes the bedroom door and sets himself up in a chair by the fire, but he doesn’t sleep for a long time.

He wakes in the morning to the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen. He follows the smell and coffee and sizzling bacon to find Steve there, flitting around the room, cooking.

“Hey.” Steve smiles, broad and true, when he sees Eddie in the doorway. “I was going to come wake you soon, breakfast is almost ready.”

Eddie blinks at him, wondering if maybe he’s the one who took the sleeping elixir, because he can’t quite fathom what he’s seeing: Steve, happy and sleep-rumpled, using his kitchen to cook breakfast like it’s familiar to him, like it’s something he does every day, smiling at Eddie like he’s the final piece missing from the morning.

“I don’t know how I’m going to repay you for what you did last night,” Steve says, determinedly poking at the bacon in the pan. “I can’t– I can’t tell you how much I needed that. How much it helped. But I figured I could at least start by making you breakfast.”

Eddie watches him cook, and feels like his heart is about to crack, because for some reason he’s getting this taste of what life could be like, but he doesn’t get to keep it.

This isn’t for him.

(And Eddie wants to be fine, but he isn’t. He isn’t.)

Something must show on his face, because when Steve looks up at him, his own expression falls into a concerned frown. He forgets all about the bacon and moves over to Eddie, arms outstretched to place his hands on Eddie’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, so invested, so concerned, that Eddie feels like he might lose his mind.

“This isn’t right,” Eddie manages, and Steve only looks more upset.

“Should I– should I not have done this? Did you want me to go, or–”

“I never want you to go!” Eddie blurts. “I always want you here, but this—this morning, breakfast, you—I don’t get to have this. It’s – it’s not right.”

Steve’s expression softens, eyes warming with understanding. “You can have it, if you want,” he says softly. “You can have me. You always could have. Since the beginning.”

Eddie shakes his head. “This isn’t… this isn’t how the story goes.”

“Then let’s write a new one,” Steve says.

There isn’t anything Eddie can think to say to that, but that’s alright, because that means his mouth is unoccupied when Steve leans in to kiss him.

Steve never has to trade anything for his medicine ever again, after that, nor does he have to come over to fetch it – he’s already there. Eddie’s house becomes the nicest in town, what with his live-in carpenter, and all. It’s painted in bright colors, and it draws people in, and makes them want to stay just a little longer, exchange pleasantries just a little more, and get to know Eddie just a little bit better.

Steve keeps his workshop in town, goes there every morning, and returns to Eddie at night. They start their days with breakfast together, and they end them in bed, pressed together like spoons in a drawer, and with every day that passes by, Eddie believes, more and more, that maybe this is something he gets to have.

Maybe this is something he gets to keep.

[yourstrulynobody]

Keep seeing people wanting the Celestial family to meet Eclipse's family (who I will refer to as the Penumbra family), so why not make some art of it since Ive also been wanting to see some of that—especially after today's eaps ep (CHARLIE NOOO DD:)

(Molten and Solar Flare are bonding with each other trust)

Fun facts about my Eclipse and Solar designs:

1) The more their rays fold, the more stronger their emotions are; usually, the sharper black rays dont fold (+the "stringers" for Eclipse), but they do when their emotions are too intense or they decide relax (since they make an effort to keep their rays up).

2) Their lower eyes are usually shut, but they do open! Usually to keep a closer eye on everything. In addition to that, the lower eyes are more active because theyre often shut! The eyebags are just there to match the upper ones :)

[gr33n-5un]

more spamizuki for the [[HUNGRY. STARVED. DYING.]]

[navybrat817]

Prompt for your Ficlet Friday, whenever you have time!

Steve Rogers + "grabbing the other’s hand in big crowds".

Thank you. 🩷

I love this, Stella! Hope you like it.

True North

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 400

Warnings: Established relationship, slight anxiety and insecurities, fluff

Steve hadn’t expected the sidewalk to get crowded so quickly for the parade, but he should’ve anticipated it. That was one of the reasons why you insisted on getting there early. You picked out a good spot and he brought enough chairs for the gang to camp out. But instead of hanging out, he insisted on getting you a necklace from one of the vendors a block away and now he had to find his way back to you.

He tried to smile when a few heads turned his way. He still wasn’t used to standing out in the crowd. Being small and invisible for the longest time, he was able to blend in easily. No one cared enough to look for him, save Bucky. With his new body, it wasn’t so easy for him to hide now. And having spent most of his life being the smallest person in the room, he still felt like a stranger in his own skin.

Craning his head, his heart raced when he realized he wasn’t even halfway down the block. He could’ve pushed people out of the way, but he couldn’t be rude. Swallowing, he tried not to feel overwhelmed at the feel of bodies pressing against him, their conversations too loud in his ears. A few whispered his name. Some snapped his photo, like they had the right.

He wished he would’ve asked you to go with him. It was silly. You didn’t need to look out for him. You didn’t-

“Steve.”

He blinked when you grabbed his hand. He had your touch memorized, the way your hand fit perfectly in his. “Hey,” he whispered, the sound of the crowd fading away.

“Thought you got lost there for a second,” you said lightly, but your eyes conveyed that you sensed how much he needed you.

“Almost did,” he said, letting you lead him through the crowd, refusing to let you go. “But it was worth it to find you the perfect necklace.”

“Oh, yeah?” you smiled over your shoulder. “You know, you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he smiled gently. “Thank you for finding me,” he said, his voice thick because he wasn’t just talking about today. And you knew that.

“You found me first, Steve,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I’m just returning the favor.”

Later when he put the compass necklace around your neck, he’d explain that you were his true north. And if the two of you were ever separated for any reason, even in a crowd, he’d find his way back to you. Always.

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️

[solarache]

... boyfriend jamil texts

[thorns-and-rosewings]

A certain development in Asylum AU happening in Canon Universe...

...translation?

I want to write something funny for Jack and Dazzle unintentionally creating a certain... Problem... For Solar; courtesy of Dark Sun.

(Happens right around Christmas time so... Jack gets to be home for Christmas this year)

(Warning for some VERY suggestive themes)

-Jack was at home by himself for a while. Everyone else had gone out Christmas shopping. Nobody was supposed to be in the house. So he was just watching a Cartoon show and mulling over some various holiday plans.

-Unexpectedly, Sun comes back early and very quickly greets Jack before saying he forgot something in the house.

-Jack stares...

-Before following 'Sun' around the house.

-He seems strangely interested in Solars room and tries to set up some sort of well concealed scanning device.

-But stops realizing that Jack is watching him.

Dark Sun: ...

Jack: You're not our Sun.

Dark Sun: (Sighs and begins very subtly begins activating a device to incapacitate Jack) No... I'm not.

Jack: Why are you in my dad's room?

Dark Sun: Oh just setting up a scanner to check something about your fathers new body... To see if it would be compatible... Nothing dangerous, just a curiosity.

Jack: Wouldn't his blueprints be more useful for that?

Dark Sun: (Pauses) Actually yes... Are you offering to get them for me?

Jack: You're a Sun, so it's not like you're a bad person. I could get you his blueprints. I know where they are... But...

Dark Sun: Yes?

Jack: Dad says that it's only fair that if somebody's done something nice for you, you do something nice for them... Could you help me?

Dark Sun: And what would you need help with exactly?

Jack: (Disappears for a second, before reappearing with what looks like an ad from a magazine) I wanted to get these for Dazzle! The 'Fairytale Princess Plushies' only they're all sold out and father says I'm not allowed to shank anybody for them... Can you get me them to give to Dazzle for Christmas?

Dark Sun: (Smiles... And it seems almost genuine) If you get me his blueprints, I will get these plushies for your friend for Christmas.

Jack: Yay!! (Disappeared for a bit before coming back with the Blueprints for Solars new body)

Dark Sun pat his head and assured him that the gift for Dazzle would arrive in time for Christmas...

...

(...About a week later...)

Dazzle was sitting quietly in the living room eating a PB&J sandwich as 'Sun' walked quietly past her, saying nothing but waving... Trying to just go up the stairs to-

Dazzle: Are you the other Sun?

Dark Sun: ...you know I am just going to give up trying to be sneaky about this, yes I am a different Sun than yours...

Dazzle: Why are you in our house?

Dark Sun: Oh just... Trying to figure out when Solar would be here alone. Nothing important...

Dazzle: Why don't you just call?

Dark Sun: (Very mild sarcasm) I don't have the number.

Dazzle: Oh... Would you like it if I just called you? So you can have a playdate with Mr. Solar?

Dark Sun: ...actually that would be very helpful...

Dazzle: (Fidgets a little)

Dark Sun: ...and what would you like in return?

Dazzle: (Pulls out a folded up picture from the pocket of her overalls) I wanted to get Jack the Dark Heroes Action Figures for Christmas, but I haven't saved enough money for them... Can you get them for Jack please?

Dark Sun: (Smiles, for real) This is the most adorable sellout that's ever happened.

Dazzle: ?

Dark Sun: If you just give me a little call for that... Playdate... I promise you that I will get your friend these toys for Christmas.

Dazzle: (Giggles) Thank you Mr. Other Sun.

Dark Sun: No, thank you sweetie. Thank you very much

...

The day came when Solar was indeed, alone in the house. Working on several of his own projects and his mind busy... Trying not to think of the more unpleasant things that have befallen the family in most recent times.

Until Sun calls him downstairs. Where he's lounging on the couch and asks Solar to join him... And he's holding not wine, but a bottle of Solars favorite alcohol. Crown Royal Whiskey.

Sun pours Solar a glass and they just start chatting. But over time and discussions of stress, gradually they depleted the entire bottle...

...and BAD DECISIONS were made...

Solar only realized what happened come the next morning when he sobered up... And found Dark Sun laying next to him, seemingly quite content with everything that had undoubtedly happened.

Dark Sun: You were a satisfactory partner. If this brings about an equally satisfactory result, I might seek you out again.

Solar: Did... We just...?

Dark Sun: I was under the impression you were a smart one... Also yes, not to mention that you were far more than willing throughout this entire session. If you hadn't been, nothing would have occurred.

Solar: Why...?

Dark Sun: Because your intelligence is appealing. Your personality isn't grating and your physical appearance is symmetrical and pleasing.

Solar: ...are you saying you find me... Attractive...?

Dark Sun: I said that you are satisfactory.

Solar didn't exactly get the chance to question what had just happened any more, because Dark Sun merely stretched and proceeded to leave through a portal he randomly opened in the room...

...well...

...After everything Solar WAS going to make him breakfast, but apparently that wasn't happening...

...

Christmas Day...

The family was all gathered around the large Christmas Tree that had been set up in the living room. Presents had been placed under the tree and Sun had made some wonderful treats for everyone to enjoy... And some spiced eggnog for the adults... Much of which Solar had been hitting kinda hard due to the troubling events he'd been through.

But amidst all of the familiar presents that were under the tree, there were two particularly large boxes that nobody could remember placing there... The boxes were wrapped in a beautiful, shimmering golden paper and topped with large black bows adorned in glitter that made one think about a starry night sky when the light caught it just right.

One box addressed to Jack, the other to Dazzle...

The kids opened the boxes up and there were immediately happy squeals of joy as Dazzle pulled out a set of beautiful plushies, while Jack now held multiple action figures that he clearly wanted quite badly...

Two cards that had been attached to the boxes fluttered between the kids. Merely stating 'To Dazzle from Jack' and 'To Jack from Dazzle.' which got the two best friends to hug and thank each other for the wonderful presents.

While the back of those cards bore a black colored Sun insignia that all of the adults could see...

Solar: (Looking a little deranged at this point...)

...I think they pimped me out for toys...

[auniverseforgotten]

i walked the path that led me to the end

Fandom: Transformers One [2024]

Pairing: D-16/Orion Pax [background mostly, presumed unrequited, no actual romance]

Rating: T

Summary:

D-16 protects Orion Pax. That’s it, full stop. 

Written for Febuwhump 2025 Day 14: Becoming the Monster. I am gonna go back and get 13 done I just realized I had to get this one out before I second guessed it all dfxgcv

I ADORE this movie but oh. My gosh. It is SO HARD TO WRITE for because everyone changes SO MUCH and it's AMAZING for that but then ur trying to characterize and ur just staring at an empty doc like where do I even begin

So I hope I did it some justice <3

[vixenfoxpup]

I need more dca fics to read, not just because they're all so cool and special and unique-

I want to collect their y/n's in my pocket, and bring back the y/nverse. All of them in a lil pocket dimension (the dca stay in their respective stories, this place is reserved for the self inserts and side characters/family to interact. The boys can have their own pocket dimension)

The y/ns live on the same street or apartment complex, being bunched into groups that are roomies

For example. Bamsara's Solar Lunacy y/n, Paper-Lilypie's CCRT y/n, and bones-of-a-rabbit's staffbot y/n. SB is there so CCRT can perform routine maintenance, plus CCRT can be a but messy, plus they could help clean up after ccrt's kids. SL is where, you may ask? Their room has been vacant for some time, but CCRT and SB keep it clean and regularly dusted, out of respect. They don't know if or when their friend will return, but they'll be welcome at any time.

Naffeclipse's y/ns share a suite, probably.

spadillelicious's LDR y/n could stay with saltciphblr's lovebug au y/n

Again, I need to read more to get a better feel of the different wonderful y/n's

This probably won't be uploaded, maybe someday, but this is mostly self indulgence that my brain has been blasting on repeat all day

Into the y/nverse, I raise you from the depths

[akakumoeteru]

The weather's getting colder!

[everotten]

i created more creatures

[solarmorrigan]

Howling for You

For the @steddie-spooktober day 9 prompt: Werewolf Rating: T | Words: 1405 | CW: brief, vague descriptions of gore? (werewolf transformation) | Tags: established relationship, werewolf Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, fluff, a little hurt/comfort Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

This is… unexpected.

The thing is, Steve always tells Eddie to stay safe during the full moon. To stay away from Steve and just let him have his run in the woods. He’d never be able to live with himself if he hurt Eddie.

So Eddie stays inside. He doesn’t go out, no matter how curious he is (his boyfriend is a werewolf, and he doesn’t even get to see his wolf form? Criminally unfair) and no matter how mournful and lonely the faint howls sound in the woods. For once, Eddie actually obeys instructions.

Except– except for this time, when he realizes that Steve’s forgotten to take his post-transformation care kit out with him (fresh clothes, a bottle of water, ibuprofen, wet wipes for the worst of the mess). He doesn’t want Steve to be without—to do some kind of werewolf walk of shame in day-old clothes while covered in grime and who knows what else—and he figures he has time. The moon is barely in the sky, and Steve hadn’t left too long ago. Surely Eddie still has time.

(Spoiler: he does not.)

Eddie doesn’t manage to find Steve in the end, stumbling around in the dark woods, realizing that he has no idea where Steve goes to have his transformation. Instead, Steve finds Eddie.

And look, Eddie is only human. When confronted with a wolf easily twice his size, bright hazel eyes (familiar, but not Quite Right) flashing in the moonlight, sharply-clawed paws carrying him closer and closer at an alarming speed, it doesn’t matter how much he knows Steve loves him – Eddie assumes he’s about to die.

He drops the care package, wonders if he has time to run, wonders if he can even make his body move well enough to run at all, wonders if maybe playing dead would work – and that’s when the unexpected happens.

Steve– the wolf?– no, Steve, lets out a yip that wouldn’t be out of place coming from an excited puppy, galumphs forwards, tackles Eddie, and then… lies down on his chest.

His head is the size of Eddie’s torso, his large, wet nose resting just beneath Eddie’s chin, and he just lies there, looking up at Eddie with wide eyes and sort of wiggling against him. When Eddie cranes his head to look around Steve, he realizes it’s because he’s wagging his tail so hard that his whole body is shaking with it.

“Uh… Steve?” Eddie hazards.

He isn’t sure how himself Steve is in this state. Steve’s made it sound like the wolf takes over and his human consciousness takes a backseat, made it sound like he’s dangerous, but from where Eddie’s lying, he seems – well, not harmless, but certainly friendly.

Steve whuffs at him, and Eddie can feel the sound reverberate through his whole chest.

“Are you– do you know me?” Eddie asks.

In response, Steve opens his mouth—and yep, those are teeth. Very large, sharp teeth—lets his tongue loll out, and licks Eddie.

It’s… an experience.

He wiggles his way a little further up Eddie’s body after that, nearly knocking the wind out of Eddie, and wuffles his huge, cold nose right up under Eddie’s ear. His breath ruffles Eddie’s hair, and Eddie can’t help his immediate reaction to try to push Steve’s head away.

“Hey, hey, that – shit, that tickles!” he gasps, laughing a little as Steve lifts his head.

He whines at Eddie, his ears folded back, and fixes him with the biggest set of puppy dog eyes that Eddie’s ever seen. He can’t help his immediate reaction then, either.

He brings his hands up, stroking over Steve’s fur, seeking out a spot behind his ear to scratch, shushing him. His fur is thick, a little coarse on top and addictively plush and soft underneath, and it figures that Steve has good hair no matter what form he’s in.

“Dangerous, my ass,” Eddie mutters as Steve settles back in against him with a happy grumble. “You’re not dangerous, are you, sweetheart? No, you’re just a big ol’ puppy.”

It’s at that moment that Steve’s ears prick forward, his whole body tensing in alert. He stands up, towering over Eddie’s prone form, a growl rolling low in his chest, and a thrill of primal fear shudders down Eddie’s spine.

The growl doesn’t seem to be directed at him, though. Instead, Steve steps right over Eddie, intent on something making noise in the trees just at the edge of the clearing. His fur stands up as he tenses, coils, and then pounces into the trees in one powerful leap.

“Okay,” Eddie says, still lying, dazed, on the ground, “maybe a little dangerous.”

He isn’t quite sure what to do with himself now that Steve’s gone. Should he go back to the house? Should he wait? Something in him worries that Steve will be sad if Eddie leaves now (and something else in him worries that Steve in Hunting Mode won’t differentiate between him and any other prey, if he should go wandering in the woods), so he decides to set up in the clearing and wait.

Steve isn’t gone long. He comes back licking his chops and looking, somehow, very satisfied with himself. He yips again to see Eddie sitting up against a tree, excitement taking over his full form as he bounds over and flumps down on the ground in front of him. He rolls over, and Eddie can’t help but laugh.

“You want your belly rubbed?” he asks, sitting forward.

Steve whuffs at him, wiggling a little, his tail wagging as best it can against the ground, and Eddie isn’t rude enough to deny such a polite request. He sits up on his knees and applies both hands to the task, and he gets to find out what joy looks like on a werewolf.

It’s pretty good.

The night carries on like that; Steve will occasionally bound off into the trees, chasing a noise or a movement, but he always comes back to Eddie, sweet and gentle and playful in his movements. Eddie’s watch tells him it’s three a. m. by the time he starts to flag. The adrenalin rush at the beginning of the night had been enough to keep him going for a while, but he does need to sleep eventually, unlike certain beasts he could name.

Still, once Steve clocks Eddie’s continued yawning, he sits and curls up beside Eddie, nudging at him with his enormous head until Eddie gets the picture and lies back into the curve of Steve’s body.

There, cradled in warmth and security, Eddie falls asleep before he knows it.

His awakening is rude. He finds himself jostled to the ground with the morning’s first rays of sun in his eyes, and it takes him a moment to remember just where he is and why, but then he’s jolting upwards, trying to scramble up off his ass and find Steve.

He doesn’t have far to look; Steve hasn’t gone, he’s standing in the center of the clearing, tense and ready, as the dawn washes over him.

And then he changes.

It’s horrifying. Eddie has never heard a bone break before, and now he’s heard it in stereo. The snap of muscle and skin pulling back into place is sickening, and yet it’s all nothing compared to the noise coming from Steve’s throat.

The panicked, pained whine of a wounded animal morphs and changes in pitch until it’s Steve’s voice, ringing through the clearing in a final, agonized scream that echoes for long moments after he’s stopped making noise.

He sways, falls to his knees, and then Eddie is right there in front of him, gathering him close to his chest, holding him as Steve nuzzles tiredly into the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“I didn’ hurt you,” he slurs out, trying to cuddle in closer.

Eddie wraps his arms more tightly around him. “You didn’t hurt me,” he confirms. “Not a bit.”

Steve hums, eyes shut as he lets himself be held, be comforted in a way he never has been after his moonlight jaunts. “I think… I could smell you,” he says after a long moment, more of an exhausted, half-formed thought than a full hypothesis.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks anyway. “What did I smell like?”

Steve lifts his head, nosing up into the spot just behind Eddie’s ear, much as he had just a few hours ago.

“Home.”

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

okay everyone saying that eclipse is going to adopt solar flare as his fifth child and they're going to have a similar dynamic as the rest of his children-hear me out hEAR ME OUT-

Solar Flare knew Eclipse from Eclipse's second iteration. That was nearly two years ago. They were forced headmates for months. Solar Flare is probably on of the few people (second or arguably more than Lunar as well as Ruin) who actually understands the way Eclipse thinks.

Remember those interactions they had in that laboratory on the sun? Remember that last moment they shared before being blown apart in that alternate dimension? There's no way either of them forgot that. For Flare, that's probably one of the freshest memories he has of Eclipse. Being there and providing the comfort he could and assuring Eclipse that he understood his intentions and that he really could have been a better person if he'd wanted to be.

It's been two years. It's not the same Eclipse. That Eclipse had a star and a superiority complex and an inability to find a new purpose. This Eclipse has four children and a pet dog and a platonic co-parent friend and is quietly grieving over so many events that happened so quickly. And Solar Flare is such a stark reminder of the past for him. Someone who would have encouraged him to be better, someone who saw past the visions of grandiosity and found the person who just wanted to prove himself to be as capable as who he used to be. And he isn't that person anymore. It's been two years and two more iterations of himself and he is so tired of being what he used to be.

So I don't think he and Solar Flare would be a father-son dynamic. I think they're just two people on two opposite ends of time who crossed paths once and nodded in solemn understanding the second time. And this time, Eclipse is crossing paths, and Flare is walking with him.

[moonlit-dreamers]

hi hello i need eclipse to angrily stomp into a room, grab solar by the collar of his shirt, kiss him aggressively, then walk away without saying anything