#I just think they're sweet

[the-bi-space-ace]

A Few Days

Summary: Echo has a tough mission and finds himself flying to Pabu in search of comfort and reassurance from people he has missed. Fluff and snuggles follow.

I said I would write it and it took some time but I finally did it 🥰

Fic based off of this artwork by @foxwithadarkside

tagging @saturn-sends-hugs @floundrickthewayfarer @phantom-of-the-501st @writingmonet @renton6echo because I think you might like this one <3

It wasn’t often Tech had to fix his legs and his scomp at the same time but the recent mission he’d returned from had beaten him to his end. Echo didn’t always get to come back to Pabu but something in him ached to see the rest of his family again, even if it was just for a few days. He hadn’t warned any of them other than a quick message to Tech moments before he exited hyperspace. His voice would’ve cracked if he heard their voices without being able to be there with them, and he’d rather not give them more reasons to worry. Tech had met him, greeting him with a big smile and a strong hand on his shoulder. The relief he felt just by seeing Tech’s face was enough to lighten some of the load he was carrying.

The rest of the batch hadn’t heard he was on Pabu yet, all of them off doing their own things somewhere on the island. He could wait a few hours to see them, he’d waited long enough already, but that ache stung a little more as he chatted with Tech on the way to the house the batch had made their own. It was cooler than he expected, or maybe it was just his adrenaline wearing off, when he took his prosthetics off to let Tech take a look. He’d looked younger as he brushed grime off of the metal, eyes widening with thought, already falling into a long explanation about what exactly he was going to do to make them work better. 

Not that long ago Tech left him to get some tools, grab Hunter and Wrecker, and track down the rest of their little crew. Which left Echo alone to settle into one of the bedrooms off of the hallway.  

It was a nice house, although a bit too cool for him as the night began to set in. Echo stayed there as often as he could, some of his stuff - a few sweaters and t-shirts - even strewn about as if someone had been wearing his clothes while he was gone. He didn’t mind, almost preferred it. It made the distinct scent of home settle in his bones as he picked a red sweater up off of the ground next to the bed. It was a gift from Wrecker back when he first joined. One of Wrecker’s old sweaters that he’d given to Echo so he felt more ‘at home.’ The gesture was nice, even if that thing reached his knees, and it had easily become one of Echo’s favorite pieces of clothing. The cool air was chilling him to the bone now, goosebumps popping up over his skin. He felt the soft fabric between his fingers. It was often stored away for sleeping, or when they traveled anywhere more frigid, but that feeling pulsed in him again and he suddenly had to get it on. 

He peeled off his shirt and let it fall to the floor below then slid the sweater over his head and breathed a deep sigh of relief. The sweater warmed him a bit more, settling him as he thought of the next few days. A few days to recharge, a few days to sleep and eat and talk with the batch. A few days.

The patter of footsteps took his attention, head turning just enough that he could attempt to see who was stomping up the front steps. A set of two, one much smaller than the other, grew in tandem with their voices as the front door to the home opened. 

“You just don’t want to admit that I’m right!” Omega said, indignant as ever. Echo leaned forward now to try and get the hallway into view but all he could see was the door frame.

“Or maybe you should learn to listen to your elders.” Crosshair snarked. No doubt they’d been at that for awhile. Crosshair had a way of getting under just about everyone’s skin. 

“Technically, I’m older-” 

“Technically- you sound like Tech.” 

“So what if I-” 

“Are you two going to argue the whole time I’m here?” Echo asked, grinning as the argument went quiet. A second passed then there was a loud commotion as those peaceful footsteps turned into running - and probably shoving - as they rushed down the hallway to investigate the voice. The two of them nearly fell through the doorway, almost trampling over each other to win some silent race to get to their destination first. 

Omega caught sight of Echo, her eyes widening as she saw him, gasping. “Echo!” Omega exclaimed, shoving past Crosshair and running over to him with her arms outstretched. His own smile must’ve matched hers as he scooped her off of the ground, groaning as he lifted her up onto his lap with one arm, hugging her as tightly as he could. 

His eyes stung but he couldn’t stop smiling, holding her tight as she pressed her face into his neck. It had been so long. Maybe he’d left too long between visits. He’d been so caught up that he hadn’t realized how badly he missed them until he needed to see them immediately. 

Omega pulled back from him, beaming. “Nobody told me you were coming home!” 

“I didn’t know until I was almost here.” Echo answered honestly. She slid off of his lap to stand in front of him, his hand still resting on her arm. “I needed a good break. You could show me what trouble you’ve been up to.” 

“Oh it’s plenty of trouble.” Crosshair stood not too far away, arms folded over his chest while he pretended not to be pleased to see him. 

Echo grinned up at the man, dressed now in light, loose fabrics, and chewing on a toothpick. Some things never change. “I’m sure she gets it all from you.” 

Crosshair huffed in amusement. “I wouldn’t be pointing fingers if I were you. You’re at least half of the blame.” 

“Half?!” Echo shook his head at the accusation, already pulling Omega back into a hug that she eagerly returned. “Don’t listen to him, I’m sure you’re an angel. And you get it all from me, right?” 

She laughed as she turned her head to narrow her eyes at Crosshair. “Every bit.” As if on command the two of them stuck their tongues out at each other and Echo had to roll his eyes. Children. “Sorry about-” She tugged on the red sleeve, eyes glancing up at him. “We… we missed you.” Ah. He’d figured as much. 

“That’s alright, sweetheart.” Echo assured her, readjusting so he could rest his cheek on the top of her head. Crosshair had inched closer but was still a bit too far away for Echo to greet, smiles growing as their eyes met. She pulled away before plopping down next to him, leaning heavily onto his side as he tossed his arm around her shoulders. It had definitely been too long. 

“Ya cold or something?” Crosshair asked with a nod towards the sweater.

“All that adrenaline is wearing off.” Echo sighed as he leaned back against the wall. “You know how it is.” Crosshair hummed, something twinkling behind his eyes that only spelled trouble. 

“Well if you’re cold,” Crosshair strolled forward and it set Echo on edge, watching his movements for ‘danger’ as Omega tucked herself closer to Echo’s side. With what must’ve been a coordinated attack Omega laid on his arm to hold him hostage while Crosshair jumped onto the bed next to them. Echo startled and instinctively tried to protect himself despite having nowhere to go. Hopeless is what it was. Crosshair had his cold fingers up the hem of the sweater well before Echo had any control of the situation, drawing a yelp out of him as those icy hands chilled his already cool skin. 

Son of a bitch! 

Leave it to Crosshair to wait until he wasn't in danger of getting whacked by his scomp to pull something like this. Echo shivered as the two of them laughed. Betrayed. He’d been betrayed by his own family. Those frigid digits retreated, self satisfied smirk on Crosshair’s face as if he’d just won some competition.

“Hello, Crosshair. Great to see you again.” Echo groaned as he leaned his head back against the wall. 

“It’s been too long. I haven’t gotten to bother you in ages.” Crosshair plopped his chin into his hand, those mischievous eyes twinkling like they always did. The other arm remained tucked around his middle. 

“We’ll have some time to make up for it.” Echo grumbled, even as a smile wormed its way into his words. He sighed, looking between the two of them as they watched him. He’d really missed them. That stinging was in his eyes again so he leaned his head back to avoid watching them, avoiding getting too emotional to cover it up. “I was comfortable, you made me cold again.” Crosshair hummed then a silence followed and Echo grew suspicious again, now wary of the position he’d found himself in. 

“Don’t struggle.” The joy in Crosshair’s voice was enough of a hint. 

Echo’s eyes shot down to them as Omega’s grip on his arm tightened, her face pushing into his side. “What’re you- no!” It was too late. Crosshair had gripped the hem of his sweater and was shoving his whole head under it. There wasn’t much room to wiggle but Echo did his best, trying to avoid whatever evil intentions Crosshair had. 

“I said don’t struggle.” Crosshair scolded as he flopped sideways onto the bed and shifted around, head shoving into Echo’s ribs. Turns out ‘evil intentions’ meant snuggles. 

“You’re so weird.” Echo complained, not amused by Omega’s muffled giggles at their bickering. Crosshair eventually settled down on his back, half shoved into the sweater and resting half way on Echo’s lap and stomach. The sweater was big enough to accommodate them both at least, stretching to cover most of them. Content that he wasn’t going to get any more icicles shoved onto his bare skin Echo settled down, allowing the other two to snuggle closer to him in the rapidly dimming light. 

“Warmer?” Crosshair asked. Echo huffed but didn’t deny it, feeling more than hearing Crosshair’s chuckle. “Big baby.” Echo’s jaw dropped in offense. 

“I’m not the-” He sighed, directing his next question at Omega who was doing her best to look innocent. “Is he just as annoying when I’m gone?”

“Worse.” She admitted. That certainly wasn’t shocking. She lowered her voice as if it would cut Crosshair out of their conversation. “He won’t admit it but he misses you.” There was a tsk from under the fluffy mound.

“Aw.” Echo teased. 

“Traitor.” The fluffy sweater mound shuffled to get a little more comfortable. A few fingers prodded at the sensitive skin on his side to make him squirm, a reluctant laugh escaping before Crosshair gave up and settled down again. “How long are you staying?” The question was quiet, mumbled, and Echo had to swallow the lump in his throat before he answered. 

“Few days. Enough time to get on my feet again.” They fell silent. Something sad coiled in his gut. Missing them had been the hardest part. Each time leaving grew more difficult. Seeing them all start to grow older, become different people as time paved its way forward. Holos didn’t do it justice. After a moment Omega rubbed her cheek on the fabric of his sweater. 

“At least we get you for a little while.” She whispered, yawning into her fist before snuggling even closer. Echo tightened his arm around her. A little while. At least, after everything, he still had them. At least he still had Rex. At least he still had his family. 

Echo stared at the motionless little lump under his sweater, smiling to himself as he leaned down towards it. “I missed you, too.” He whispered to where he guessed Crosshair’s head was. He got nothing but a hum and the feeling of Crosshair’s body tightening into a smaller ball, cuddling closer as if to wrap himself around Echo’s middle. He let the quiet of the night settle in around them then, even if he wanted to keep them talking. They’d have some time to catch up before he went.

After all, he had a few days. 

[flowers-inverted]

Ya know I don't really pay much mind to ships for haikyu but I feel like there's definitely a pattern for the popular ones... The "setter and their spiker" relationship seems to really resonate as queer with this community

[gearbox-doll]

I need to draw hxh characters

[multi-lefaiye]

TELL ME MORE ABOUT SELF-DETERMINED DETERMNISM

HAHA YESSSS

so self-determined determinism is my pretentious ass name for the bond between karlach and eden. i like to imagine them having a very deep, very strong friendship, verging at times on familial but neither of them using that term specifically. they say casual platonic "i love yous" frequently and cling to each other, even before karlach is able to touch others without burning each other.

eden will GLADLY let himself get third degree burns if it means he can give his best friend a hug when she clearly needs one. the only thing stopping him is that she won't let him until it's safe. i like thinking about them twining their tails together casually when they're hanging out, which helps ground eden when he's having a bad time and provides the physical comfort karlach craves.

the NAME though... that ties back to the theme with karlach that makes me cry like a bitch: the idea that she's had so many choices ripped away from her, and she's constantly living with the results of others' cruelty towards her. and she's fighting a losing battle against fate: due to the exploitation and brutality of others, karlach is, perhaps, doomed to die and suffer. she believes in justice and helping others, but that doesn't seem to apply to her.

and karlach isn't gonna stop fighting, but it's hard when the deck is stacked against her in so many ways. but eden encourages her to keep fighting, to keep pushing, and more than that, he fights *for* her too. eden isn't the kind of person to give up, even when it seems hopeless. he wants to save karlach, and so she'll be saved. it's as simple as that.

and that gives her hope in a way she hasn't had in a long, long time. maybe her fate is pre-determined, and maybe it isn't, but at the end of the day, she's setting her own path and making her own choices. and her dear friend eden is there to support her every step of the way, reinforcing her right to make her own choices and live her own life, however much of it she has left.

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[veatomis]

Great date ideas: take your boyfriend (who doesn't know how to swim) to the hot springs your family owns and gaze lovingly into his eyes <3

(Featuring a very special guest who also loves said boyfriend a very normal amount under the cut)

[petricorah]

scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

[egophiliac]

LEON

LEON YOUR EYEBALLS

[tinukis]

day 5 - little brother

so incredibly self indulgent but yeah anyway... little brother w his three older brothers

(please more asl + uta/asul bros please)

[lucabyte]

Taking pride in One's own appearance.

[wellship]

He just can't stand by and watch...

Bonus:

[cozylittleartblog]

i found these old nick doodles from 2021 and still like them :) so here

[ping-ski]

I love how, in the tags, sugar daddy eclipse is written as "sugar!clip", bc in my head it implies he's made of sugar. It makes me want to lick him.

...Not that I didn't want to lick him before

Eclipse wouldn't stop you from licking him, but fair warning - he WILL return the favor.

[sysig]

For Requestober

Papyrus and Sans cozily hugging each other in soft clothes😭😭😭

(well this is literally first time I did this hope didn't do anything wrong)

Day 10 - Sleepy snoozey skeletons

[gnomewithalaptop]

Rereading the Our Worlds at War tie-in again and God I miss their friendship every day

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

Warden: You've never killed an innocent?

Zevran: Now there's an interesting word, "innocent." How many men do you know who can claim to be truly innocent?

Zevran: But if you're talking generalities, such as children and relatives and bystanders and such… never on purpose, but it happens.

Zevran: It's unfortunate, but death comes to us all. If not me, then some wasting disease. Or a fall down the stairs. Or at the hands of a darkspawn. It's all relative in the end.

Zevran: "Death happens," as we like to say. And when I get paid for it, death happens more often.

-

Zevran: In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you women… and men, or whatever it is you might fancy.

Zevran: But that does mean doing what is expected of you, always. And it means being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty. But confining.

-

Davrin: Lucanis, how do you decide when one of your targets deserves to die?

Lucanis: Usually when the client pays up front.

Davrin: I'm serious. Do you just kill anyone?

Lucanis: No. There has to be merit.

Davrin: "Merit?" Who decides that?

Lucanis: The Talon of the house.

Davrin: And then you just carry out the order?

Lucanis: It's my job.

Davrin: Must be tough to sleep at night.

-

Lucanis: You kill for a living, too, Davrin. How do you sleep at night?

Davrin: Like a baby. The things I hunt are pure evil. Monsters. There are no shades of grey with darkspawn. But you...

Lucanis: Provide a service.

Davrin: What if your target doesn't deserve to die?

Lucanis: Who does? Good, bad, everyone dies eventually. We just speed things up.

-

Emmrich: Do you have any say in your... targets?

Lucanis: You want to know if my victims deserved it.

Emmrich: Forgive me, I shouldn't have asked.

Lucanis: Everyone wonders.

Lucanis: I've never killed an innocent, by my count.

Lucanis: I cannot say if yours would agree.

-

Emmrich: Lucanis, do the implications of your work never trouble you?

Lucanis: Everyone on this team has killed before. I'm hardly unique.

Emmrich: Yes, of course. But in your case, it's a profession, rather than an act of necessity.

Lucanis: I'm not sure the Venatori or the Antaam see the distinction as you do.

-

Emmrich: I find it extremely interesting, Lucanis, that you consider the point of view of your enemies in battle.

Lucanis: I have to. It's much more difficult to find and kill them, otherwise.

Emmrich: Exactly! A utilitarian attitude towards death, and yet you extend empathy to your victims.

Lucanis: Not that much empathy.

Emmrich: Enough to wonder how the Venatori and Antaam view your actions.

Lucanis: Death comes to everyone, in time. I get paid to deliver it. Like a letter not everyone wants to read.

-

I think about this a lot. I'm always... surprised when I see the talk that they're supposedly trying to make Lucanis into the perfect "cinnamon roll" in Veilguard, because his sweet personality doesn't "match" his profession and background. Like, no? That's a very surface level of looking at it, I think.

Zevran is like this, too. He is an incredibly chill guy, and when you romance him, he is also very sweet and vulnerable, despite being an assassin. They're not that different in that department. They were both trained to be assassins since they were children. They're both traumatized in various ways. But neither of them acts like a bloodthirsty, evil freak. But they both also take pride in the job they do (or did), and how well they can do it, and have no intention of stopping. And yet they both express surprising empathy. (Zevran argues against annulling the Circle! Quite extensively!) And they make pretty much the exact same arguments about being killers for hire, as shown above.

Death is a natural part of life. Sometimes it just comes sooner, because we're there to deliver it. There's (almost) no such thing as an innocent person, so my victims aren't innocent people. Therefore, I've never killed an innocent in my entire life, as far as I know. (At least not intentionally.)

And that's interesting and fun about them! It's beautifully deranged. Lucanis completes an assassination mission, slitting somebody's throat or what have you, and then goes on his cosy coffee break, satisfied with a job well done.

The fact that they both say that they've never, in their opinion, assassinated "an innocent", so it's all good, doesn't automatically make it true and doesn't mean it's not complicated, however. Not every line of dialogue can be taken at face value. As video game players, we're rather desensitized to this, but hearing this should normally be at least a little alarming. For a regular person, at least. And it is for the people in the game! Like Emmrich and Davrin. Davrin has several banters with Lucanis about it. Like, who decides when somebody deserves to die and which contract's going to get carried out? Well, the "CEO" of "the company," of course! What could ever go wrong that way? Emmrich tries to coax Lucanis into saying that he does feel something about the whole thing, because he really wants it to be true. While Lucanis is very matter of fact about it. He knows what the Crows are, and that's it. He doesn't glamorize or demonize it.

So, it definitely isn't that "Veilguard says that Lucanis has never done anything wrong ever in his life," just like Origins doesn't do it with Zevran. Both the men's attitude towards killing is warped in an interesting way, completely in line with their background and upbringing. It shows when Lucanis argues with Davrin about them both being killers, because it completely escapes him (or maybe he ignores it for the sake of the argument) how the killing he does (contracts where the targets tend to be people) and the killing Davrin (a monster hunter, a darkspawn slayer) does is of different kind entirely. His logic is flawed at that point. But to him, it boils down to the fact that "it's just a job," and "killing is killing," and "death is death" regardless of form, and that rightfully baffles Davrin to no end. If anything, it shows how the Antivan Crows are taught to hand wave the issue, because the arguments Lucanis and Zevran both present are too similar to be anything else.

Of course, Lucanis, unlike Zevran, as the grandson of the First Talon and her favourite, might have had some extra privileges and wiggle space in comparison, which might have allowed him to bend the rules sometimes, give him space to show more compassion and act more heroically, because people are complex and there are many layers to what each person might consider right and wrong (e.g. killing is okay in various circumstances, and slavers in particular can get fucked - hell, we do it in video games all the time), but still. The fact that his grandmother wanted to tap a new market, so she made Lucanis specialize for hunting mages, which ultimately led to him killing a lot of Venatori and blood mages, makes it cleaner, which is nice, but then again, we hardly know the full extent of all his work. Moreover, when you ask Zevran to tell you stories about his jobs, you don't get much dirt out of him, either. He talks about some of the goofiest ones he's had. One of his targets that he (unsuccessfully) participated in taking out, a royal that got his position through plotting and murder, he also describes as somebody so immoral he basically deserved it. Also very clean. (Compare both these guys with somebody like Blackwall who truly committed a despicable act of murder for money that we do know of. And this single crime sounds so much more upsetting than anything either Lucanis or Zevran describe. None of the things Zevran says is as awful, besides the murder of his lover, which is framed like it wasn't really his fault, because he was misled.)

It's also worth noting that Zevran talks about how he was the best the Crows had before he left and how it brought him respect, wealth, women, men, or "whatever it is you might fancy." All in all, it comes with benefits. By his own admission, he was well off. But of course that came with a catch, as well. The "gilded cage" Zevran talks about. But that's not what made him leave. It was the plotting, backstabbing, and ever present distrust in the end, which led to the biggest mistake he'd ever made. Much like him, Lucanis also mentions that he had a comfortable life before getting captured, in the same quest where he also talks about how he didn't actually have full control of his life. ("Even before I was captured, my life was not really my own. So much had been determined for me.") The gilded cage comes up yet again. And it was plotting and backstabbing that made him lose a year of his life in the underwater prison.

My point is: Lucanis and Zevran are both assassins, because that's what they've always been, they were trained to be assassins since they were kids, they have a very pragmatic approach to death and killing, which they were most likely taught or perhaps were forced to develop, and they both take pride in how good they are at their job, and express no intention of ever stopping. And yet they both show that they have a good heart in various other ways, turn out to be friendly and incredibly loyal, and even very sweet as lovers. Because people can be complex, and so can be fictional characters. Yes, they're very different men, with different problems and personalities, yet also not that different.

You can't think that Lucanis is "too good" without also thinking that Zevran is "too good." You can't have this problem with Veilguard unless you also have it with Origins, is what I'm saying. And I think this may also apply to some of the other Crows we meet in Veilguard.