#A Little bit of magic to end the world

[gracebethartacc]

some lbom stuff and mini mind design addition idea ,,,

[victorluvsalice]

Merry Christmas Ace!

@ace-of-tales You asked for Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens visiting Secundus, as you thought Aziraphale in particular would like all the inventions there...and then I mentioned him getting a taste of the March Hare's tarts, and you were like "YES THAT." XD So here that is! Hope you like!

--

“Oh, these – these are absolutely amazing! Crowley, you have to try some!”

Alice did her best to stifle a laugh as she watched one half of the newest pair at the tea table go to absolute town on the March Hare’s tarts. “I take it you’re pleased with the vittles on offer?” she commented, leaning on her elbow.

“I think it’s safe to say this is now his favorite part of our trip here,” Crowley replied, grinning at his partner over an untouched cup of tea. “Always been a bit weak for good food, haven’t you?”

Aziraphale shot him a playfully-scolding look. “It’s your fault,” he declared once his mouth was empty. “You’re the one who introduced me to it.”

“Yessss,” Crowley said, smirking back. “Best bit of temptation I ever did.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I won’t argue with that.” He grinned over at the March Hare. “Genuinely, these are absolutely fantastic. I thought Jane Austen’s tarts were delectable, but these – ! Oh, you can simply taste the love.”

“I make every batch with as much love – and strawberries – as I can fit in them,” March said, beaming back and bouncing in his chair. “Delighted to hear they pass muster! Though not mustard. That’d be horrible.”

“It would,” Victor agreed with a little laugh.

“Oh, indeed – but instead, now you can tell everyone who comes by that your tarts are truly heavenly,” Richard added, giving March a nudge and a theatrical wink.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re much better than that,” Crowley said, picking up a tart and examining it. “You lot are a lot more – creative than Heaven or Hell. Part of the reason Aziraphale and I were so keen on sticking around on Earth – that and avoiding all the nonsense Upstairs and Down. Humans make some fascinating things, when they put their minds to it.”

“I’m a hare,” March pointed out, pulling up his ears for emphasis.

“I think he’s using ‘human’ to mean sapient creatures as a whole,” Alice said, patting his head. “After all, it doesn’t sound like they have anything like you, Dormy, or Cheshire where they come from.”

“Not that I’ve seen – our world is quite sadly lacking in intelligent animals with stupendous baking skills,” Aziraphale confirmed. “I don’t believe we have anyone quite like your ‘Touched’ either, which is a shame. Some of the inventions you have around here are fantastic – that clock tower, for instance, with the giant bird coming out of it on the hour. Most amusing!”

“Oh, Cuckoo Ben? That nearly scared the life out of me when I first heard it go off,” Victor admitted, grinning. “But it is funny, once you get used to it.”

“Me, I liked that motorized bicycle we saw the other day,” Crowley said, with a sharp-toothed grin. “The one that fellow was bragging could outrun any horse. Reminded me of the Bentley, the way he was zipping around. I could something like that while we’re in the city. Get us places a lot faster than that carriage we rented.”

“I’m – I’m rather content with the speed at which our horses move,” Aziraphale said, grinning nervously. “And that demonstration did end with the inventor going straight into a wall. I had to, ah, assist slightly in making sure he didn’t end up in the morgue.”

“I noticed – though I don’t know if you really had to,” Crowley pointed out. “Based on what we’ve heard, these folks could have just shocked him back again.” He frowned, turning his tart over in his hands. “Which – does feel like it should be causing more of a fuss on both our ends. Hell doesn’t like a sinner escaping.”

“And Heaven would be rather cross about the population going down,” Aziraphale agreed. “But I don’t know much about the local theology.”

“We’re still trying to figure that out ourselves,” Richard told them. “The recently undeceased don’t tend to remember much about their time on the other side. What little we’ve gotten out of them makes it sound like everybody gets chucked into a waiting room first.”

“Mmm – meaning the local versions of Heaven and Hell might have already compensated for our propensity for bring people back to life by not letting anyone in until they’re sure they’re dead,” Alice added.

“Maybe,” Crowley shrugged, and took an experimental bite of tart. “Not like I’m going to – oh.”

He stopped, blinking behind his sunglasses. “Oh wow,” he continued, sounding lightly stunned. “This is good.”

“What did I tell you?” Aziraphale chuckled. “Congratulations Mr. Hare – you’ve won over the agents of both Heaven and Hell with your cookery.”

“Excellent – though it does feel like those should cancel each other out,” March noted, rubbing his chin. “Guess we won’t know until I die, though! And get past the waiting room.”

“Which hopefully won’t be for a long, long time,” Alice said, patting his head. “Anyway – is there anything else you two wanted to see while you’re visiting?

“Well...” Aziraphale grinned. “I did hear something about a restaurant where the food literally rains down from the sky...”

[noahtally-famous]

not me popping back on here with a post after months of semi-inactivity (uni is being a bitch) just to reiterate how much i love writing the pahkitew island cast.

aside from sammy and amy (obviously), literally everyone else can be shipped with one another and it'd make sense to some degree, like it takes skill to create a group of people so inherently shippable (platonically and/or romantically) and ofc the writers didn't know it they just shoved a bunch of random ppl together and dusted their hands off on it but fr tho 😭

(yeah im planning out my leonave 'stranger things inspired' au, and the gears are turning, and i forgot just how much i love writing for this dumbass group)

(i swear im working on the next chapter of a guide to surviving the apocalypse too)

[majorshatterandhare]

I’m thinking about how the Mechs use energy, because they do things and live and therefore they *must* use energy, that’s how physics (and biology) work.

I had the idea that they are always absolutely frigid to the touch because they suck in heat from the environment like an endothermic chemical reaction.

[down-with-the-mafia]

mu was a child with too much power surrounded by some of the most violent and shitty adults like of course she turned out the way she did

[patheticbatman]

Part Three

I'm very proud of these dolls, and I'm also leaving them at my parents' house, so I did a little photoshoot with some books as background so I can have nice pictures of them.

This is the third post, so check out the first for more info!

First up is Vanellope with Museum of Thieves, by Liam Tanner. It’s about a young girl who lives in a 1800s/early 1900s esque city that has extremely oppressive “protective” laws around children (they’re literally chained all the time, for one). Then she ‘steals herself’ and finds a wonderful and dark refuge in the Museum of Thieves. I feel like this would really appeal to Vanellope, as a chaotic and free spirited girl herself.

(Also I think the game on the books website still work, I played it at least a few years ago, which is great! Really reminds me of when I was young and the internet was more free)

Second is Sofia the First with my DP anthology (Happily Ever After Stories, author: I forgot to write that down) that I’ve had since I was at least 4 (Please excuse the sun damage). I seriously considered letting Kida have this one, because she actually had a story in here, but then I realized that I had a better one for her. But I feel like Sofia the first would probably love this. I think it has all the Disney Princesses up to Mulan (because this was published before The Princess and The Frog), plus Alice in Wonderland and Kida? But I don’t remember rn. For some reason I feel like the latest official DP in there is Jasmine. I’m not super familiar with Sofia or her related characters but I felt she should be included.

Third is Sofia’s sister Amber, with A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. I feel like she would read this, empathize heavily with Sarah, and unironically not realize she would be part of the problem. Or at least, the version of her from the beginning of Sofia’s tv show would bully Sarah. (Yes she’s a different type of doll than the others but she came free with some of the harder to find ones I ordered off of Ebay.)

Fourth is Elsa with My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult. I’m not sure mentally HealthIER (she still has a ways to go IMO) Elsa from the end of the second movie would read this. But I KNOW depressed Elsa would read this just to torture herself.

Fifth is Anna and Olaf with Frozen II Movie Theatre Storybook & Movie Projector by Marilyn Easton. I bought this before the movie came out, and sadly it did not contain much more info than the trailers gave us. But it’s still fun to have, and the stylization was pretty. The projector still works, though I need to clean the film. I used to have a bunch of these as a kid. Definitely had a Sleeping Beauty one. In any case, I feel like Anna would be delighted to see an illustrated version of her adventures, and once I thought of using this book, I couldn’t think up anything I’d want to use more as Anna’s background.

Sixth is Kristoff and Sven with It’s A Magical World, A Calvin and Hobbes Collection by Bill Watterson. I feel like Kristoff would enjoy the often dry humor, the lovely artwork, Calvin’s cuteness sometimes, and the relationship between Calvin and HIS animal friend, Hobbes. I actually have a bunch of these compilations but of course I picked the winter one for Kristoff lol. I know he isn’t a Dp but he came out in the same line and I like him anyhow.

Seventh is Elena of Avalon with Kamaisama Kiss (Kamisama Hajimemashita) by Julietta Suzuki. I don’t know a ton about Elena, but both she and Nanami had a sucky life for a while, and then were suddenly given a lot of power and magic, and silly hijinks ensued.

Eight is Moana and a pet chicken with Time Cat, by Lloyd Alexander. She probably doesn’t even know wha a cat IS, so I feel like from start to finish she would be enthralled with all the cultures and the main concept of Time Travel within the book.

Ninth is Raya with Dragon Bones, by Patricia Briggs. I think she’d pick it up, excited to read about Dragons, and then be so mystified with many of the concepts she wouldn’t be able to put it down. Coincidentally it also has a Dragon who can turn human and is pretty much the only one left. No it is not the human on the cover.

Last for this post is Namaari with Dragonworld, by many different people. It’s basically an art book with many different interpretations of Dragons. I think Namaari is the BIGGEST dragon nerd out of the characters in Raya’s movie, so this would definitely be right up her alley.

Part One

Part Two

Part Four

[soft-fox-neil]

Been reading All the young dudes for the first time ever over the last weeks...

And I just finished the last 400 pages today..

I'm heartbroken what the hell 😭

[florshedworf]

also fionna and cake’s ending and ppl’s reaction to it has made me realize how much people’s reactions can be skewed if the ending is sad and/or bittersweet

[jrueships]

Magic after running from one new authority figure to another so he can shed responsibility from his actions when his consequences catch him anyway: 🥺

[gracebethartacc]

I was like “mannnn I love when ppl make whole pink bc of jashs fave color. Esp love when ppl do pink And gold/orange. ….I wanna do that.” so boom grace tradition of changing characters designs during an epilogue to show their growth continues <3 only LBOM!whole tho KICB!whole doesn’t get the new outfit swag womp womp skill issue (specific thought process for it was to more explicitly reference HMSs clothes (so minds shirt, hearts gloves, souls ripped style jeans u get it) also idea of Stella rebleaching her hair bc I didn’t like that she stayed identical and thought it was fitting/subtle enough it wouldn’t throw me off bc I like her design as is thumbs up

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Why Fenris could Never Cameo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard

In the run up to Dragon age: The Veilguard, I was almost certain that Fenris would be our main legacy character from previous games. Not only has he been central in the comics released between DAI and DATV, he is an escaped Tevinter slave who's plot revolved around magisters, magic and the structural prejudices surrounding elves in Thedas. Not only that, but he's canonically in Tevinter killing slavers currently so he's geographically in the right place for us to meet him.

About halfway through the game though, it was clear to me: Fenris could never cameo in The Veilguard. Because he'd break it.

How the Veilguard treats Thedas is...odd to me, to say the least. I will be writing another post about how much I adored the expanded big lore in this game (the titans, ancient elves were spirits, where the blight came from etc.) and yet while these large lore expansions worked for me, the actual culture of modern Thedas is entirely softened, its sharp edges filed down until it's a sanitised fantasy world devoid of what made the franchise so vibrant and compelling in the first place.

So let's start with Fenris and slavery. In all three games, the reality of slavery is pushing at the corners of the world. In DAO Loghain allows Tevinter Magisters to enslave elves in order to raise money for his war effort. In DA2 Fenris is fighting to be free from slavers who will not leave him be, let alone the reminders that the city was built by slaves which are everywhere. In DAI one of the two possible mini-bosses is Calpurnia who was a slave, and characters such as Gatt and Dorian both show us how much slavery is tied into Tevinters culture and success.

But DATV the first game actually set in Tevinter where we get to see the famed Minrathous...it's like the game purposefully wants to avoid the issue. I can feel it tilting the camera away to not allow me to see. Slavery is mentioned, but never talked about in depth or as a specifically ELVEN problem in Tevinter. This might have been done to be less problematic, it feels ignored.

We are in DOCK TOWN. We are at the DOCKS. You would think that slaves from all over Thedas who are being smuggled and bought by various groups would be everywhere. You would think that the injustice in dock town would be partly built on the back of ships we've seen in the comics crammed with elves in chains. This is the world Dragon age set up for us. And yet...nothing. zilch. A tiny easily skippable side quest where we free a couple of venatori slaves, but only one of whom is an elf.

None of our Tevinter characters seem to have been influenced by their culture even a little bit when it comes to how they view elves; there is no moment when Neve fucks up and says something prejudiced, no moment when Bellara or Davrin are distrustful of her for being a Tevinter mage.

The same goes for Zevran; a character who epitomised the issues with the crows. The crows have consistently been characterised as very morally dubious assassins who kill for the highest bidder and who buy children on the slave market and torture them as they grow in order to assure that they reach maturity able to withstand torture without giving away a client's name. Zevran is very explicit about the fact that if you fail a contract your life is forefit.

Nobody responds particularly to you if you're an elf. Nobody trusts rook less for it in Tevinter. Nobody treats Rook any differently. Even DAI had better mechanics for this; with nobles in Orlais less likely to trust you as an elf.

Considering one of the main plot points of this game and what makes Solas sympathetic is the fact that he was fighting against the slavery of ancient elves...you'd think the game might want to mirror that in modern Thedas. It might want to show us how characters fighting to end slavery in Tevinter are similar to Solas and how the society Solas fought against was similar to the one that characters we love such as Fenris have fought against in modern Thedas. Maybe we'd want to explore how in a world of slavery like this, how could the answer NOT be to tear it all down? Maybe we should have that option at the end of the game so it really can chose whether we agree with Solas and his plans or not.

Adding Fenris to this game would entirely break the game because Fenris refuses to allow you to look away from this horror. He is a sympathetic character who had to learn to trust mages again because of course he didn't trust them. Of course he didn't. Fenris wouldn't allow the camera to shift focus because he's literally covered in the lyrium scars that show how slaves are used as experiments in Tevinter. Fenris WOULD question Neve on how she feels about elves and slaves. Fenris WOULD have things to say about Lucanis and the crows (let alone the fact Lucanis is an abomonation). So he could never be in this game; he'd drop a bomb on it's carefully constructed blinders to the very society its supposed to be set in.

And yet, in DATV, the crows are presented as...a found family of misfits and orphans? The politician who opposes the crows having absolute power in Antiva is framed as a comically evil idiot who doesn't understand that the crows are ontologically good. Yet...they're NOT. Crows in this game act more like a secret rebel group than an assassin organisation. We see no crow taking contracts with the VERY RICH venatori magisters despite being hired killers. We see crows just refuse to kill people despite having a contract because 'its crueler to leave them alive'. The crows don't feel like the crows here, they feel like a softened version of a cool assassin group who are cool because they wear black and purple.

Our pirate group are also sanitised; the Lords of Fortune are good pirates who only steal treasure that's not culturally significant. Theyve clearly read the modern critiques of the British Museum and have decided to explicitly stop anyone levelling similar critiques at them. There is no faction of the Lords of Fortune who aren't like this, no internal arguments about it. Everyone just. Agrees. And is able to accurately tell what a cultural artifact is vs. what treasure that you can have yourself is. Rather than showing us why a pirate stealing cultural artifacts might be bad (like in da2 where such a situation literally causes a coup and a war) it just tells us it's bad. But also pirates are cool so we still want them in our world.

This issue seaps into Thedas and drains it of any of the interesting complexity and ability to SAY anything that this franchise had before this game. It becomes a game about telling and not showing rather than the other way around. The games have ALWAYS asked questions about oppressive structural systems and their interplay with society, religion and culture and how these things can affect even the most well meaning character. Dragon age at its best IS a game about society and how society functions both for and against it's characters and what happens to societies built on cruelty and indifference. The best bad guys dragon age has given us are those who are bad because they embody these systems or have been shaped by them. Our main characters have had to wrestle with questions surrounding how to exist in these systems, fight against them, learn and grow.

Yet every group you come across in DATV is sanitised and cleaned up to the point of being as non problematic as humanly possible. None of our cast of characters have to wrestle with where they came from or the world that shaped them. None of them have to confront their own biases. They start the game perfectly non-problematic and end it that way too.

And this just...isn't what Dragon Age has been in the past. It isn't why I love the franchise. The whole game just felt, in a way, hollow. And this was a CHOICE and it is why the legacy characters are few and far between. Too many dragon age characters are just too...angry and complex for this game. You can feel them pulling their punches on this one. I have to imagine they did this because they didn't want to be criticised or have too much controversy? But I think it honestly goes far too much in the other direction and just makes it bland.

I can't imagine what I say here will be unique, but it is the basis for a LOT of my other thoughts on this game so I wanted to get it out of the way first. The softened Thedas and characters make this game by far the weakest in the franchise.

[kateschi]

the katsuki bakugou effect

synopsis: where your husband, katsuki, has a way of calming your daughter like no one else can.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

katsuki’s ability to calm your daughter is nothing short of magical.

it doesn’t matter how fussy or inconsolable she gets; the moment he holds her, everything changes.

her tiny fists are no longer clenched in frustration, her loud cries slowly taper off, and her little body relaxes in his arms. his presence soothes her in a way no one else’s can.

you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been at the end of your rope, trying everything you can think of to calm her.

you’ve rocked her gently, hummed her favorite lullaby, even tried a little soft talking, but nothing works.

when your baby’s tears start to escalate, and her little body trembles in distress, you find yourself on the edge of exhaustion.

but then katsuki walks in.

he steps over to you, and with a quick kiss to the top of your head, scoops her from your arms, then instantly, the tension in the room lifts.

his rough hands gently cradle her, and he murmurs something too quiet for you to catch.

you can’t help but watch in awe as she goes from wailing to calm in just a few seconds, her little face nuzzling against his chest. it’s like a switch flips, and you swear you can see her sigh in relief.

it’s always the same. as soon as katsuki’s around, she settles. she looks at him with a calmness that’s impossible to ignore, her tiny lips pouting slightly as she stares up at him.

her little hands grasp weakly at his shirt, her body relaxing into his hold as if everything is suddenly right with the world. and katsuki just holds her, always.

“you’re a softie,” you tease one day as you watch him rock her back and forth.

katsuki shoots you a glare, but it’s softened by the sight of your daughter curled peacefully in his arms. “shut up,” he mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it. and you can’t help but smile.

you cross the room, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. he stiffens for a moment, but the warmth in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

“I’m serious,” you say. “you’re the softest guy I know.”

he lets out a gruff chuckle, his scowl deepening, though it's clear he's enjoying your attention as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

a few weeks later, you’re all at a class 1-a reunion, gathered at the old dorms. the atmosphere is lively, with the familiar banter of your old classmates filling the air.

midoriya’s sitting on the couch, holding your daughter carefully in his arms, cooing softly at her as the rest of the group laughs and talks around them.

but suddenly, the peaceful mood shifts. your girl begins to fidget in midoriya’s arms, her little face scrunching up in that all-too-familiar way before the whimpers start.

a soft cry escapes her lips, and then it builds, escalating into the full-blown wail you know so well. midoriya looks startled, glancing around as if searching for some way to calm her.

“uh, uh, it’s okay,” midoriya says, trying to gently rock her in his arms. “it’s okay, sweetheart."

but your baby’s cries only seem to grow louder, her face turning red as her hands flail helplessly. you glance at katsuki, already knowing what’s coming next.

without a word, katsuki stands up from his seat, the others giving him a bit of space as he walks over.

his eyes lock on your daughter, and there’s something about his gaze that makes everything else fade into the background. he’s not rushing, not frantic.

he just calmly steps in, his arms outstretched.

midoriya silently hands the little girl over. as soon as katsuki has her, everything shifts. he holds her against his chest, and his rough hand gently pats her back.

his thumb brushes against her little arm, his voice soft. “it’s me,” he murmurs, his tone low and steady. “it’s okay.”

your little girl hiccups, her cries fading almost immediately, and then she stops. her lips jut out in a pout, still a little upset, but no longer in distress.

she stares up at him, her wide eyes searching his face as if recognizing him. and then, she settles into the crook of his arm, her tiny hands grasping weakly at the fabric of his shirt.

the room is silent for a moment, everyone watching in awe as your girl rests peacefully in katsuki’s arms. he doesn’t even seem to notice the attention.

his focus is entirely on her, his expression softening as she calms.

you smile to yourself, watching him from the sidelines. even after all this time, katsuki never ceases to surprise you with how much he’s grown, how much he’s learned.

you remember when he first found out he was going to be a father, and how nervous he’d been (though he would never admit that).

but now, here he is, effortlessly calming your daughter.

“man, you’re a real softie now, huh?” kirishima teases from across the room, a wide grin plastered on his face.

katsuki’s eyes narrow immediately, and he glares at his friend. “shut the hell up, red.”

but the teasing doesn’t stop there.

kaminari, who’s been silently watching the entire scene, leans forward with a smirk. “I can’t believe it…the ‘explosion hero’ is actually the baby whisperer now?”

katsuki frowns, and his glare remains trained on the two of them. but there’s a slight restraint in his movements—one that’s only noticeable to you.

he’s trying to stay calm, and it’s all because he doesn’t want to wake your little girl up. you can practically feel the tension in the air as his patience wears thin.

sero, naturally, chimes in with a smirk of his own. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, man. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be ‘aww’ing over a baby like some mushy ball of fluff.”

katsuki’s mouth opens, ready to fire back, but then he glances down at your sleeping daughter, her little chest rising and falling peacefully, and he shuts it again.

for a split second, his fierce expression softens. he takes a deep breath, holding the baby a little tighter.

“you’re lucky she’s asleep, or I would've blasted your asses to oblivion,” he grumbles, but the threat is half-hearted.

kaminari lets out a nervous laugh. “jeez, man, alright, we get it.”

you can’t help but chuckle softly, leaning against the doorframe as you watch them. 

katsuki’s eyes narrow in warning, but despite his frown, there’s a warmth to his expression that doesn’t go unnoticed when he looks back at d/n.

it’s moments like these when the rest of the world seems to disappear, and it's just him, her, and the quiet calm they share.

sighing in resignation, he shifts slightly, walking over to you. you watch as he makes his way across the room, still cradling your daughter in his arms, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she drifts into a deeper sleep.

you don’t say anything at first, but as he gets closer, you meet his gaze with a soft smile.

there’s no denying the softening effect he has when it’s just the two of you—well, the three of you, if you count the tiny bundle in his arms.

he leans into you as he steps to your side, his broad shoulders brushing against yours, and without a word, he tilts his head slightly toward you, seeking the quiet comfort of being beside you.

“I told them to shut up,” katsuki mutters, his voice lower now, quieter. his usual fiery energy is subdued, and he seems content to just be in your presence.

he exhales slowly, letting the weight of the situation fade away. you reach up and gently touch his arm, a soft laugh escaping you.

"she's lucky you’re her dad," you murmur, your eyes flickering down to where your daughter is curled against his chest. "you’re so patient with her."

katsuki scoffs lightly, rolling his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays his true feelings.

“I’m not some damn pushover,” he mutters, but there’s a softness in his tone that makes you want to kiss him.

and you do.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[cavillscurls]

you came? ⟡ you called.

no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader (feat. miss sarah miller)

It still seems impossible to let you go, especially when life gets tough.

warnings/tags: no outbreak au. joel & reader dated when she was finishing college, and he is in his late 30s. sarah is six. angst. breakups. family drama. classism & the discussions of wealth. right person, wrong time. depictions of depression & anxiety. sarah is involved in a car accident (she is ok!). hospitals. fluff. girl!dad joel. heightened emotions. unresolved feelings. hurt/comfort. ambiguous but happy ending. <3 reader is physically nondescript, but contains an individualized backstory. not beta'd & only slightly proofread. wc: 3.3k

He missed the call.

His baby girl was in the hospital, and he missed the fucking call.

It’s difficult not to feed into guilt as he rushes through the haze-ridden streets across town, pelts of rainwater hitting his windshield. Curses are spewed under his breath, and he feels the burn in his sinuses and the tremble in his chin, how his throat feels thick with every nervous swallow.

It appears they lost some control with how slick the roads have been, is what they’d said when he called back.

The nurse's voice was even and lackluster in a way that Joel knows is irrational to be bothered with, but he’s unable to reason. He doesn’t understand how the rest of the world can keep spinning when his feels like it’s falling apart.

Both kids and Mrs. Watson are alright, but we are concerned your daughter may have sustained a bit of head trauma from bumping into the window, and we took her back for a CT scan to be on the safe side.

He doesn’t blame Margie Watson, even in this irrational state of mind. Sarah and her son have always gotten along well, and she has been kind enough for the last two years to carpool Sarah home with them three days a week when his outrageous work schedule wouldn’t allow the time. It could’ve happened to anyone, anywhere.

Still, he wonders why now? Why his little girl?

His hair is flattened with rainwater when he bursts into the emergency room lobby. He’s not even sure he turned off the truck engine, but that seems of little importance as he stumbles toward the front desk, frantic eyes darting every which way to get a sense of where she may have been taken.

He’s had to do this—the waiting and worrying a parent often does for their child whenever they are upset, or sick, or hurt—many times. And every time, he’s done it alone. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming, and he thinks, for a little while, he quite literally forgets how to breathe. Has to forcibly rise and contract his chest to gulp down the oxygen that keeps his body moving, if only to be certain his baby comes out better for it on the other side.

Sweat pools at his temples. His heart is beating so violently in his chest, he hardly registers the woman at the desk speaking.

“We’ve got you all checked in, Mr. Miller. We also want to inform you that we went ahead and called the second number listed under Sarah’s emergency contacts.”

This gets his attention. His brows scrunch together. “Second—?”

“Joel?”

Air rushes back into his lungs, and there is the momentary sensation of relief. The memories flood, ones that he often tries to repress to no avail.

He blinks once. Twice. He thinks he’s gone absolutely fucking mad.

But then you’re cautiously stepping towards him, the glint in your eyes nearly as frantic as his, arms somewhat outstretched as if you’re ready to take him by the shoulders. Ground him as you have so many times before. Steady him when that feeling creeps in—the one he’s disregarded for decades in hopes that it would magically disappear—and stop the ground from falling beneath his feet.

You were always the stable one. Enduring and confident. All his loyalty and handiness couldn’t make up for what you did to his mind.

You were the calm.

Despite how crazy he was for you, Joel had never fit into your life. At least, not into your family’s mold of what your life should be.

Sarah was only ten months old when you met. It’s funny, measuring the passage of time through the years of his daughter. But she entered the world as the center of his universe, and everything that came to them after was simply pulled in by her orbit.

He wasn’t in any place to be meeting people, let alone dating as a newly single father, coping with an abandoned relationship. But you were so damn smart. So sweet. Your meeting was happenstance, a mutual friend’s birthday party for which he somehow managed to get the time off and a sitter. You were finishing up your degree and planned to attend grad school in-state. A beautiful girl from a wealthy family whom he somehow managed to charm. And even more importantly, you managed to impress his daughter.

He knew after your fourth date, when he had worked up the courage to finally introduce you to her, that this would be no casual fling. And it wasn’t.

A month turned to six, six months to a year, and suddenly, you were interwoven into each other's every waking moment. Joel had forgotten about the stress and heartache of his previous involvement; it was easy to do so when what was right in front of him felt entirely stable, and good, and real.

For his thirty-fifth birthday, you threw him a surprise party. Normally, such a display would not be his forte. But it was a modest enough affair, only the closest of friends and family, all packed into his backyard with Tommy on the grill and Sarah passing out those pointy party-store birthday hats. You’d strung up some lights, ordered a cake from one of the nicest bakeries in town, and even managed to hire his favorite local band to play for the night.

He remembers the bright smile on your lips so vividly, the smooth way you reached for his shoulder and pressed up onto your toes to kiss his cheek and purr a happy birthday, handsome, in his ear.

He bought the ring the very next day.

And when you said yes, bright, teary eyes and the sweetest smile, he was so happy.

It wasn’t much. He got Tommy to take Sarah for the evening and cooked you a three-course meal. Set a nice cloth along the table, even lit some candles. Placed your favorite record on the turntable. And just before dessert, he asked you to dance. Something that was usually begrudging, like pulling teeth to get him to do it, and you sprang up with elation, letting him twirl you around the living room until he pulled you in close, breathed in the scent from your neck, and asked you to marry him.

He felt your body slow, heard the little gasp from your lips, and when you pulled back to look at him, he could tell you didn’t believe him. He reached into his back pocket for the square velvet box, and the rest was history.

He was so fucking happy.

Your parents, however, did not appear to share the same sentiments.

They had always been kind enough, especially when his daughter was involved. But they were a different kind of people than Joel’s parents were, a different kind of people than he was altogether—old money, an ancestral stake in their town. They expected excellence, and there was no denying the pride they had in your smarts, your ambitions. Their view of the world was limited, chained to glory over happiness.

“This all just seems a bit impulsive, doesn’t it?”

“She has so much ahead of her, you can’t possibly expect her to settle down here!”

“We just wouldn’t want this to hold her back.”

The stress of it all had taken a toll on both of you, and the spring before you left grad school, you called it off.

Last he heard, you had taken a job up in one of the Dakotas.

Seeing you now? It feels like a stab to his already churning gut.

“Hey,” he finally hears himself say, but his voice doesn’t sound like his.

“Hey… hi.”

You’re a little out of breath, eyebrows pulled taut on your forehead, and his heart aches at the sight. He’s seen you this way, loving, concerned, more times than he can count. He never thought he’d see it—especially not for him—ever again.

You lift your left hand to rub soothingly across your cheek.

He doesn’t see a ring.

“Thank you, um,” he starts again, feeling all sorts of discombobulated, “you-you didn’t have to—”

You shake your head.

“Of course I did.”

And he looks at you now. Really looks at you, and he feels like you can see right through him. He feels that tightness creep into his throat again, and before he knows it, you’re expelling a shaky sigh and surging towards him. His arms open immediately.

The press of your body is anchoring, and he’s grateful that he can bury his tear-welling eyes in the mask of your hair. He squeezes them tight, focusing on the way you hold him, and the euphoric rush of getting to hold you. He never thought he’d get the chance again.

“Did you see her?” he croaks into your neck.

He feels you nod. “Only briefly when they brought her in,” you explain, softer now, voice wavering just like his. “She was awake. She was okay. Just looked a little shaken up.”

This relieves him. It’s nearly the same information the nurses gave him, but hearing it from you feels different. Genuine, like he doesn’t have to second-guess whether or not it’s worse than they’re making it out to be.

“Didn’t know they still had your information,” he grumbles, shaking his head. He realizes he’s held on too long, just a moment past acceptable, and starts to loosen his arms. “I can ask them to change it—”

“No,” you interject, peering up at him now like he’s said something of great offense. But the sharpness hastily wilts away, and you worry your bottom lip with your teeth, carefully slithering your arms off of him and crossing them over your stomach. You take a single step back, and his chest aches. “I mean, I… I’m happy to stay on as long as you need me to.”

He could ask Tommy. Albeit most of the time, if Joel’s busy, so is he. He contemplates his other options, and not much comes to mind. Then, he considers that this may be your way of asking if there are any other options. The thought, while arguably a long shot, stirs him.

He considers his next words carefully.

“I’m… m’sure she’s glad it was you,” he murmurs, and the crease between your brows softens. “Considerin’ I was no fuckin’ help.”

The crease returns.

“Don’t,” you counter, shaking your head. He knows that look. Knows you mean business. “Don’t do that. You couldn’t have possibly expected this.”

He knows he can’t argue. He’s tried countless times. Instead, he sighs. Hangs his head, props his hands on his hips, and taps an antsy foot.

“What’re you—”

He has to bite his tongue. What’re you even doing here? He wants to ask, but he cowers from the harshness. Braces himself for the fear of even asking.

“I mean… you’re here,” he opts for. “Didn’t expect you to be here.”

He peers up at you through hooded eyes, chin still tilted in shame, and your arms loosen until they finally fall slack at your sides. He wonders how this feels for you, if it’s just as anxiety-inducing as it is for him.

“Yeah, I um. I moved back in October,” you explain, seeming to hesitate before: “My dad’s not doin’ too well.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and then, a deep-set frown. He knows he isn’t your father’s favorite. Hell, your father ain’t his favorite either, but it’s not the news he was hoping to hear.

“M’sorry to hear that,” he says earnestly, and you thank him softly, sniffling.

He has a million questions. He doesn’t think there’s enough time left in his life to ask them all. And he finds himself panicking a little, sifting through each and every one of them, trying to choose the right one.

Just as he thinks he’s landed on it, a nurse in blue scrubs is approaching in his peripheral.

“Mister and Misses Miller?” she chirps.

You both turn your heads, but Joel hears the quiet gasp of air you intake, and sees the way your mouth hangs open, on the precipice of rebuttal.

“Is she ready for us?” Joel asks, never giving you the chance. Never even bothering to correct her himself. There are small wins in this, like the way your eyes flutter over to him in silent inquisition—no ill-will, just curiosity.

The nurse smiles. “Yeah, y’all are welcome to come on back.”

She winds you both through the sterile halls until he sees a sign that reads PEDIATRICS. He’s so aware of your footstep behind him, following closely. He has the momentary urge to reach back, seek out your hand, and with it, your comfort. But he refrains. Squeezes that same hand into a fist, and scolds himself for how foolishly simple it is to fall back into old habits.

The nurse stops at door 241 and taps her knuckles lightly three times before opening the door and letting you both inside.

The familiar sound of Barbie: Swan Lake is on the television. He knows this because it plays through about four times a day in the living room. Although most of the time, it’s accompanied by the unsteady little girl in her tutu in front of the screen, replicating each sequence more and more precisely each day.

This time, he finds his little girl propped up in the bed pressed against the center of the wall. Her wide eyes dart from the screen to him at the sound of the door, and he sees them well with tears.

His heart breaks. Literally, he thinks it’s cracked in two.

“Daddy!” she calls, and it sounds like she’s exhaling some great burden. A relief. A precious smile and hands reaching toward him despite the pain he’s caused in making her wait.

He’s stalking towards her immediately, crouching down on sore knees beside the bed so she can wrap those outstretched arms around his neck. He puts his own around her tiny body, trying not to hug her too hard despite the unbearable need to have her close. Safe. Always safe with him.

“Hey, babygirl,” he mutters, trying to swallow back tears of his own. And she’s brave, so brave in the way her little body trembles, but she never lets them fall.

When she pulls back, he places a lingering kiss on her forehead.

“M’so sorry I wasn’t here,” he says, tilting his head at her sadly. Her lips turn into a pout, and she reaches her tiny hand to take his much bigger one, giving it a squeeze.

“It’s okay, Daddy.”

He shakes his head. “No, it ain't, baby.” He lifts that same hand up to kiss her knuckles, too. “Can you forgive me?”

Her dimpled smile returns, and Joel thinks maybe the cracks have started to heal. “Can we... get ice cream after this?”

Shared laughter echoes across the room, and the levity of her question lifts the final weight from his chest. Too damn smart for her own good.

“Bribin’ me now, huh?” he asks, tsking his tongue. “Yeah… yeah, I think we can make that happen.”

“Then I forgive you,” Sarah says triumphantly, reaching out to give her father another much-needed embrace. The amused nurse places a clipboard of release papers onto the tray table.

“The CT scan and X-Ray came back entirely normal, Mr. Miller. Safe to assume Sarah is just dealing with a mild concussion due to the impact. Dizziness, sensitivity to the light—” she gestures towards the dimmed switch. “You may notice some bruising or swelling around the forehead—ice is your friend until that goes down. Other than that, just continue to monitor over the next couple of weeks. Lots of rest, ease back into high-intensity activities, and give us a call if anything worsens.”

He nods carefully along with her instructions. “Yeah, of course. Thank you.” The nurse offers all three of you a smile before excusing herself, the door thudding behind her.

The guilt lessens now that she’s here, safe, within reach, staring at him with her big-brown eyes and toothy grin. He feels lightheaded, the adrenaline worn off, and the emotional whiplash of the hours events pumping rapidly through his veins.

“Oh, look!”

Luckily, it’s his Sarah who breaks the deafening silence. Over the sound of whirring machines and stale air, she squeals, reaching under the flimsy blanket. The pulse ox monitor on her tiny finger makes him frown, but what she reveals from hiding can’t help but soothe the soul.

“Look what they gave me, Daddy!”

A little white teddy bear, the kind with a tulle bow tie wrapped around its neck, and a permanent smile stitched across its snout. She squeezes it to her chest and smiles widely, and Joel is met with the endearing sight of her two missing front teeth. They had fallen out only days apart.

He leans in close, all serious like. She giggles.

“You gotta name for ‘em yet?” he asks.

She nods her pretty head of curls three times.

“Paddington.”

“Fantastic choice.”

She laughs again, hugs Paddington tight, and Joel tries to be grateful for a moment. Tries to acknowledge all the hurt and sickness happening in the building around him that somehow did not infiltrate this very room today. Instead, he has a beautiful baby girl with only a bump on her head.

Instead, he’s been reunited with someone just as beautiful. Someone he wonders if he’d ever see again had it not been for what transpired today. He glances your way, finding you leaning casually against the wall with your arms crossed and an enamored look in your eye. You straighten a little when you catch him looking, and he feels compelled to shower you in a gratitude he's not sure he knows how to convey. He owes you, for more reasons than just this.

As if she can read his mind, Sarah’s voice picks up, just above a whisper now:

“Daddy���. Honey’s here.”

He feels himself go red to the tips of his ears.

There’s another breath of shared laughter, endearment, and maybe a bit of awkwardness.

Honey.

Just something he used to call you. Something innocent and fond. Naturally, Sarah picked it up, and eventually, she started calling you it too.

He gives you an apologetic look, and the way you peer back—so fragile, so careful in the way you appraise him and his babygirl—makes his tongue feel heavy. Like that name, that title, still festers there. Like he could scream it at the top of his lungs if it meant one chance to use it again.

“I know she is, baby,” he answers instead, squeezing Sarah’s arm tenderly. “You’ll have to thank her for comin’ all this way to check on you.”

Her eyes dart towards you again, and whatever she finds has them slanting back Joel’s way so sweetly. The kind of look no good father is immune to.

“Can she come get ice cream with us, too?”

His instinct is to decline. Soften the blow with a clever excuse, and talk his way out of big questions that seem too difficult to explain to someone so small, the way he always has.

But the words never come. They die on his tongue that still holds memory. Every word he’s ever spoken, every piece of time remnant with you.

He can’t say it. He won’t.

He looks at you, instead. Your shoulders gone slightly rigid, and your brows piqued with subtle curiosity. Like you’re waiting to see where he takes this next. He swallows hard, swallows down the fear, the regret, and anxiety.

“She’s more than welcome to,” he says, and his daughter beams. “If she’d like.”

He sees the stale lights reflect off your eyes, brimming with tears. Notices the way your chin trembles, and how you press your lips together in a hard line, the way you always do when you want to be brave.

He sees a gleam of hope. Memories swaying between the space you all occupy, assuring him that they aren’t just figments of his imagination, but real, and raw, and true. That they live just as deeply in you.

Your lips part, and he holds his breath.

“I’d love to,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

He exhales.

He sees a second chance.

And he has every intention of taking it.

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[ambrosiagourmet]

I think one of the biggest tragedies of Laios & Falin and their relationship is how much his actions impact her life. But like. Specifically how much they WOULDN’T impact her life as much if they weren’t both stuck in such a shitty abusive situation.

This part of the Falin-tries-makeup daydream hour comic is what got me thinking about it again because truly it just... it seems like such a like an offhand comment that I'm sure Laios didn't mean to be cruel or anything. That's just like. A little kid not thinking about what they are saying. ESPECIALLY when the kid in question is Laios.

But man they depended on each other SO much as kids. Too much. It really feels like they didn't have any other source of positive reinforcement, or anyone else to share themselves with. So of course an offhand comment like that has a huge impact on Falin.

Or this little bit from one of the flashbacks:

This tears me apart. Do you think it tears him apart to think about? I think it does. I think Laios holds every small failure to care for Falin against himself.

And then there's the Bigger stuff. The way that him coping with his own trauma ended up impacting her.

Like his interest in monsters. Like him going to find a ghost, and accidentally revealing Falin's magic to the whole village in the process.

Like him needing to leave. And leaving her behind.

He shaped her life so much, and he carries so much guilt for it. And again, there should have been other people there to help. The same things that made Laios need to leave home are the things that made his leaving so hard on Falin. She ate alone after that. She shouldn't have had to eat alone just because Laios wasn't there.

She was 9 when he left for school, and he was 11.

Nine. And Laios feels like he failed her because he didn't stand by her through this better. As an eleven year old.

Both of these kids deserved so much better from the world.

[victorluvsalice]

-->Victor finished up in the greenhouse around this time, so I had him head to the barn to make an eco upgrade part (the fabricator STILL refuses to attack him and paint him funny colors for our amusement), then Transportalate up to the second floor to use the toilet and mop some mysterious symbols in the seance room before heading to bed. He climbed in just as a refreshed Alice climbed out, which, figures. XD As Alice was feeling the Fury again, I decided it would be better to just indulge in the werewolf stuff for a bit and see if I could knock her over the edge into a little rampage. Because sometimes it really is just easier to let them fall to the Fury and see if they can bring themselves out of it quick. So she transformed into her beast mode, scavenged up a time capsule in the back yard, then went out for a very successful hunt (bringing back THREE spare pieces of meat!) before coming back and saying hi to Smiler (who, after getting a bunch of robot salvage parts and checking the latest SimsTube trends, was busy making computer chips and mechanisms on the robotics bench) and heading upstairs to play some video games. And that is where I would have left things --

-->If I hadn’t seen Rory Oaklow hanging out on the front porch, having just been sprinkled by a specter! I figured "oh, okay, Alice can chat with her and get some more werewolf experience" -- and indeed, a quick conversation with Rory about her time as a werewolf unlocked the "Werewolf Mentorship" ability for Alice! Making her a more effective mentor toward new werewolves! :D I'm – not sure when she’s ever going to use that, but still. XD I then decided they might as well play tug-of-war while they were hanging out together, since that too would be good for the old XP bar --

-->But then, who should show up in the kitchen but bad old Temperance, ready to cause mischief! Fortunately, Victor had already woken up and started making himself breakfast, so it was the work of a moment to slap down his bizarre idol and render her pretty much immediately helpless. (Getting slapped in the face with a spatula as he prepared his eggs couldn't have helped either. XD) However, Temperance's appearance was accompanied by the house making a bunch of creepy noises, and, well, despite being a big bad werewolf, Rory didn't take them well and ended up running off in fear before any tugging of warring could happen. So Alice instead just scavenged up some turquoise from the yard. XD Victor had his breakfast as Temperance finally floated out, and eventually Rory came back from her terror run, allowing me to get Alice to send HER home too.

And THEN, with all the actual residents of the house safely gathered in the kitchen where I could keep an eye on them, I was finally able to save and close out of the game! Whew! These sessions always take longer than I think they're gonna...but hey, it was nice to play again, see the trio in action, and actually make some real progress at selling stuff in the store! :) Next time, though, we're taking a break from store shenanigans for HOLIDAY shenanigans -- as next episode, it'll be Winter Saturday, aka New Year's Eve! Which involves the completion of a few errands, and a very special date...see you then!

[obeymeluv]

Being Clever with the Fae (Malleus x Reader, Lilia x Reader, Sebek x Reader)

Pre-established relationship implied. You tell the Diasomnia boys that your world planned for ways to outsmart faes. You pull your trick but you're not sure who won.

Warning: Pepaw Bat's gets a little spicy so be careful.

I'm taking liberties with Sebek's part because he's a neutral for me and I don't know that much about him.

You and Malleus had talked about fae folklore more than once. He was delighted to know fae had something of a presence in your world but was wildly horrified at the misinformation. Out of everything you told him, only a handful were correct:

Don't give your name unless you trust that fae because names have power

Iron will hurt some fae but not all. Iron is more harmful to nocturnal fae than day fae.

Being rude to fae may be the end of you altogether

Partaking in fae food means you open yourself up for a wager

Yes, fae like to play tricks. Expect them and be wary.

Stepping into a fairy circle will summon the fairy who made it.

Just about everything else was wrong. That's why he and Lilia were teaching you what not to do if you came upon the various fae in Twisted Wonderland. Thus far you'd only managed to memorize what herbs kept smaller creatures at bay and how to curry the favor of the various faeries that helped out at NRC. Your current assignment from Lilia was filling out a map of different fae territories and classifying them as 'safe' for humans or 'unsafe'. Each territory had a tree they would love to craft from or loathed to be near and you were expected to know that, too.

Strange stuff but apparently it was important.

They liked to break up the bigger chunks of information with smaller, digestible things like etiquette so it felt more manageable. Malleus was currently instructing you on how to part from a fae in a formal setting as to not incur their wrath.

"Again, Child of Man," he's bowed down until eye level with you, one hand holding yours.

"Light shake, eye contact, nod, slide foot back, squeeze the hand, turn." he's parroting your motions until you turn away. He, instead, draws himself to his full height and observes as you pretend to walk away.

"Excellent," he nods. "But ensure you don't slouch while leaving. It will make some feel as if you don't hold them in high regard."

"That's so--" you roll your eyes. He simply lifts his brow as if to question your mild frustration. You puff your cheeks out and he laughs.

"We can be a bit particular." he agrees.

"To a fault." you smirk.

"Oh?" he's intrigued, eyes twinkling.

"Yeah," you smile. "In my world the fae were known for being literal with their word so you always had to keep something clever in reserve."

"Do tell," Malleus' grin goes from practiced and polite to genuine. A hint of fang shows.

"It's kind of specific though. Depends on that old joke about fae wanting to come for the first born."

"That's not really a joke," Malleus crossed his arms. You can't tell if he's offended or not. "We like the younglings. We're always looking to bring more around to the fae ways. In fact, fae make fantastic guardians because--"

He had a lot to say and you felt the beginnings of a lecture creep up. In some way you felt like you were in trouble. To save yourself, you said, "Just pretend. Then I can show you what we do."

Malleus pretended to make a deal with you. It looked a bit intimidating and official with the magic pulsing in the rickety floorboards of Ramshackle. They were groaning. Shadows danced along his face as pieces of his signature thorned briar wove around your joined hands. "In exchange for the repairs around Ramshackle, you will give your firstborn to me."

You pull him in, his green eyes searching curiously for any hint of what's to come. "Sure! How soon do you want to start working on that? Or do you want to wait a little while?"

All at once the floorboards fell quite. The hum of magic died with a rattle that broke the briar into tiny pieces. A few fell at your feet, the others shooting off into various directions.

Oh. Did he not understand? You thought it was clever! Maybe he was too sheltered to--

His laugh is kind of a snort at first but then you hear it honest and lilting. The hand holding yours slides up your arm and snakes around your waist. You're lifted until your hands find purchase on his shoulders and your legs wrap around whatever they reach. Your heart goes from your chest to your throat when his gloved hands slide down to your thighs as he walks you to your sad couch.

"Now is fine," he's careful to hold his weight above you, silky hair spilling around you and tickling your cheeks. His eyes are bright and boyish, a deadly compliment to his kissable lips.

Well, that technically backfired but if this were a real situation you'd make out just fine because he'd chosen to make out with you instead of curse you.

------ ----- ----- ----

Lilia wanted to focus on physical protection as much as written knowledge when it came to handling fae. You still couldn't wrap your head around the idea of him being a general but he had old photos, a weird mask, and a massive magearm to prove it. You'd picked up quite a few self-defense moves and practiced them regularly. He wanted them to be second nature to you. So here you are, in a designated training room within Diasomnia.

"You just want to cuddle me," you teased, in the familiar position of him being behind you with an arm around your neck. One elbow was planted in your shoulder, the other clasping it at the forearm to make a little prison for you. He gave a reprimanding squeeze, ever mindful of the pressure since you were fully human. Lilia gave a huffy laugh, trying to relax his smile into something more stern as he wove his fingers into your hair. You flinched at the tug and slapped his arm lightly.

"Focus," he couldn't deny himself the simple pleasure of whispering into your ear. If you asked him, it was to throw you off balance and distract you. "What could you do now?"

You thought about just leaning back into him, pressing against him, but you knew that wasn't what he meant. Capitalizing on this moment of closeness, the stillness, to huck him over your shoulder and into the floor crossed your mind but then you'd have to give him a back rub later.

Not that you minded that, either.

"We could make a deal," you leaned back to whisper in his ear even though it hurt your neck a little. You could tell by the way his bangs fluttered that he'd jerked in surprise. Was that a little pink on his cheeks? Before you could nip his pointed ear, Lilia leaned you forward and took his elbow off your shoulder, opting to hold you in a bearhug instead.

"Acceptable in this situation," he managed, clearing his throat when his voice cracked a little. "Although this exercise is supposed to be combat related."

"So make the terms. I can't negotiate a deal that doesn't exist." you try to break his hold, shimmying your shoulders and sliding your feet to see if you could slip away. He lifts you off the ground with an ease that doesn't seem possible with his short, lithe body. You hang there against him as he thinks.

"Your life for that of your firstborn."

A bit dark, wasn't it? Kind of rude, really, you thought. But, your train of thought continued to ramble, he did find Silver somewhere so it didn't seem too unusual that he'd want a kid. Either that, or he was messing with you because you told him that whisking away kids was something fae were known for in your world.

"You can't have a firstborn with your clothes on." you joke.

"That's not true because I found Silver with my--" Lilia drops you when he realizes what you've said. You weren't expecting him to drop you and didn't catch yourself, hissing as you land on your knees. Before you can start complaining or poke fun at him for being an old man he's locked the door. You're bowled over as he rushes over to you, pinning you on your back as he peppers kisses along your throat and collarbone.

He's several bites in and you’re halfway undressed when you think you hear a knock at the door. Lilia begrudgingly peels himself off of you, licking blood from the corner of his lips.

"Father? Are we not going to train today?"

"M'fraid not, my boy," Lilia turns his attention back to you, opening your legs to slip between them. "But you'll be getting a new sparring partner in about nine months."

His red eyes are glowing. They're absolutely beguiling.

"Do they come with therapy?” he hears Silver mumble as you look up at him through your lashes.

He pounces on you again. It was a brilliant, filthy tactic. He's not exactly mad about it. You've earned favor with one fae, at least, and he will protect you from the others.

----- ----- --- ---

Sebek is a hard worker. He's a product of his environment; he has Baur's straightforwardness, Lilia's dedicated regimens, and his mother's impressive teeth and jaw strength. Lilia thought the best way for you to learn some of the self-defense tactics was to fight someone your size.

Sort of. Sebek seemed to be the better choice since Silver was too sleepy to be a constant threat. And, in Lilia's mind, you should have an easier time fighting a half-fae versus a full fae.

You never noticed how muscular Sebek was until you were under him. He's got corded arms and you can see the muscles of his shoulders flexing under the Diasomnia shirt he chose for the exercise.

You've never seen him in casual clothes! He actually looks very nice. Not as buff as Jack but sturdy in his own way; his chest is broader than you imagined. A solid man.

More than capable of being Malleus' body guard.

You groan as he knocks the air out of you a little. He's on top of you, pressed into your back. He's got one foot braced against the floor, leaning his weight into you. Your arms are pinned at your side courtesy of the one he's snaked underneath you.

When did he flip you over? Asshole, you scrunch your nose in frustration as your cheeks begin to burn. He's an asshole that means well and won't go easy on you, though. He makes sure you learn. You try to inch out from beneath him but he angles his shoulder down and grabs his own wrist, dragging you back to him.

"You're supposed to do something in this situation!" he grumps, "You know how to break this hold!"

You do, but he's heavy and it probably wouldn't work. And he's had a literal lifetime of training versus your handful of months. You've tangled your legs together and used his half-lean to put him on his back. Your kicking like a tipped-over bug and almost free when you remember that his fae half is crocodilian and you might have triggered his death roll tendency.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Sebek's pupils change, the dark of his eye slitting and boring into you. His throat strains like he's growling but you don't hear anything. It trembles against the back of your neck and you're reminded in that moment of just how much bigger he is than you.

How he folds around you and encompasses you.

He opens his mouth, teeth glinting and sharp. "You've bested me," you admit, swallowing thickly as his teeth hover near your shoulder. "Make your deal."

You somehow turn yourself around in his unrelenting squeeze.

Sebek huffs as if he's insulted and you swear you see his teeth dull. His pupils begin to fill out. He's usually loathe to acknowledge his human side, as he'd much rather be full fae, but it serves him in this instance. "I'm not a true fae. Such a thing wouldn't work on me!"

"You have to pretend! Lilia's teaching me how to deal with the fae! You just won't hurt me as much. Maybe." you dare to flash that teasing grin at him and Sebek nearly tears into his own lip because he doesn't know what to do with that wiggly feeling you give him.

Him? Hurt you? Not on purpose. It would go against the core values his grandfather AND Lilia taught him! Any fae caught abusing their spouse would be drawn and quartered, made a public display of. Any human man who chose to do so was no man at all!

Sebek's face feels almost painfully warm. He can feel the heat spreading from his cheeks to his ears. "In an act of benevolence inspired by the great Prince Malleus, I shall spare your delicate human self in exchange for a child. Is that the cliche rubbish you desire?"

Some of his once slicked-back hair has fallen down on his forehead, between his eyes, as if it's disappointed in you too.

"You think our child would be cliche rubbish? Cliche Rubbish Zigvolt? That does NOT sound good! I'm naming the firstborn, you're just helping make it."

"Wha--but I--that's not!" Sebek doesn't know what to say and he hasn't been trained for this. He's careful not to shove you away but untangles himself like a thrown ragdoll. He rolls over sharply, totally fine with hiding his face in the floor. His green hair is in disarray and his arms are limp, stretched out to either side of him.

You laugh, climbing onto his back and raking your nails down it gently. He makes the noise. You're not sure what it is but you've heard it before. It's deep and somehow soothing. He relaxes underneath you as you continue to scratch his back, throwing in a squeeze to his muscles every now and then.

It's not until you're in what would be the small of his back (if he wasn't build so solid and thick) that he raises his head, folds his arms up, and rests his chin on his hands. "You're safe." he can't bear to turn his head and look at you right now. If he did, you'd see how...how...weak and mushy he looked. Sebek snorts through his nose, arching his back in surprise as your hands slide all the way up until you flop on his back and your arms hang off his shoulders.

"Thank you, o' kind Zigvolt!" you hug his neck. "This delicate human appreciates it!"

"And I...appreciate...you." he mumbled slowly, the words a little foreign to him. More scary than foreign, honestly. That heartwarming shyness evaporated in an instant when he pinned you and began a stern lecture about how you should NOT offer to conceive a child with ANY OTHER FAE and what YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE INSTEAD.

You weren't surprised by this. Sebek lectured Silver all the time and Lilia said he was a very informed pupil. You, too, would be informed as it didn't seem like he was letting you go anytime soon.