#I think the inspiration I used for this was polaris??

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

from the flames | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season three — to signify the newly recognised alliance between the sky people and the grounders, a celebration is held within polis’ market square. a bonfire, alcohol, and the bawdy pulsation of drums is a sure-fire recipe for a stimulating night. add a watchful bellamy blake and his dancing muse into the mix, and, well… i’ll show you the consequences of such a potent combination.

pairing: bellamy blake x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption/intoxication, sensual dancing, jealousy, sexual desecration??, mild possessiveness, arguments, bellamy speaking in trigedaslang (giggling and kicking my feet), dialogue-heavy, manhandling, mild angst, smut, unprotected p in v (do not), reader is short because i’m short, deal with it <3

notes: i haven’t recently been watching the 100 so the timeline and characterisation may be a little off. also, ik this took me a long ass time, but i’m gonna try and make sure the next two parts come out a little quicker <3 i love y’all!

word count: 2.5k

“People of Kongeda and Skaikru, tonight we gather as one, united by a common purpose and a shared future of alliance. Before us, this bonfire symbolises more than just a flame; it is a beacon of hope, an opportunity to cleanse old grudges and pain that has divided us for far too long.

“Let this fire signify a new beginning and serve as a reminder that unity is not our weakness, but our strength. Let it be known that from this day, we join not as enemies, but as allies, and anyone set upon spilling the blood of our allies is spilling the blood of us all. Let it be known: Jus drein, jus daun!”

“Jus drein, jus daun!”

As much as Lexa’s words intended to inspire harmony, the crowd massed below the second-floor balcony of the dominating tower she resided on reacted in any way but. Fierce declarations of worship were cried out; large fists were pumped in celebration; and misty clouds of brew and saliva were sprayed into the tepid night air.

All was well, for the first time since we landed on Earth.

“Happy Unity Day,” I murmured to myself, taking a sip from the metal cup in my hand. I was standing on the outer edges of the unruly crowd of dark, rugged figures, who were surrounding an unlit wooden mountain and raving as it abruptly burst into vociferous flames.

The monstrous tepee of sticks was raging at the centre of Polis’ trading square, an open area bordered with stalls and operating food vendors that infused the air with a salivating meaty aroma. Glimmers of light chipped away into the familiar starry night above and an orange ambience was cast throughout the square, seeming to blaze beneath the skin of those who orbited the fire.

It was a somewhat perplexing scene: to be together as one people, celebratingratherthan being at war with one another.

A pensive mechanic stepped in beside me, eyeing the mixed crowd of Grounders and Sky People.

Raven folded her arms over her chest. “Don’t you think the fact that the Ark originally had thirteen stations and the coalition now has thirteen clans is kind of…”

“Unsettling?” I finished for her. “Yeah. Probably best not tell these guys the story of how Polaris got blown out of the sky. Don’t want to give them any ideas.”

“Polaris… Polis…” she continued contemplating. “Think there’s anything equally unsettling about that?”

I looked at Raven. She looked back at me.

I sucked in a sharp breath—“I’m not drunk enough for this conversation”—and tipped the harsh contents of my cup down my throat. The liquid was molten in both its ferocity and colour and was infused with some potent earthly spice; it was a blow to the stomach upon consumption.

“Is that such a good idea?” Raven asked, judging me as my head craned back to capture the last few drops of throat-scorching goodness. “I’m all for pouring a glass when the occasion calls for it, but these people have stomachs lined with steel—what do you think yours is made of?”

I grimaced at the taste. “You tell me. You’re the genius.”

The roll of her eyes was deafening. “I’m just saying, they’ve probably spent decades perfecting their drinks to suit them, to match their tolerances. I mean, even that human fountain over there couldn’t handle it.” She nodded towards a cluster of barrels where a titan of a man wearing armoured shoulder pads and breastplates was hunched over, violently emptying his stomach onto the cobbled ground.

I swallowed my own stomach at the sight.

“I just assumed you wanted to spend the night somewhat differently,” she said, a sweet undertone of provocation twisting her words.

My brows furrowed, and I turned to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her lips twitched at the corners—never a good sign.

The thing was, I knew exactly what she meant. Her unspoken words had already been circling my mind for days, weeks, months even, increasingly accumulating with both heat and fervour.

As ironic as it was, I think it’s fitting to compare my situation to that of a star’s formation.

There I was, a delinquent sitting stagnant in a cold nebula of misery in the Sky Box, parted from my family and friends, sent hurtling to Earth to die, only then to have my cold, miserable cloud intruded upon by a fiery presence, a head of tousled brown waves and a pair of rich, dark chocolate eyes.

An awakener. An activator.

This intruder began filling my head with his words, his laughter, his brooding stare. The weight of his presence began to grow; thoughts of him consumed me. From the most surprisingly vulnerable conversations to even the tensest arguments, he had a heat inside me swirling and it was sweltering to unfathomable heights. It showed no signs of stopping.

Raven’s malevolent brown eyes were pointing plainly at something far behind me as if to answer my question. I knew what I would see even before turning around to look, but moronic as I was, I looked anyway.

Chin hovering over my shoulder, my eyes wandered through the scattered crowd of Grounders and Sky People alike that loitered the bonfire’s outskirts. There, sandwiched between Lincoln and an unoccupied trading stall, was a face that not only had my stomach contents lodged in my throat, but my heart as well.

Bellamy.

He was standing with his arms crossed, each one concealed beneath his distressed guard jacket. And although his stance screamed ‘Don’t talk to me,’ his face said otherwise. He and Lincoln were engaged in some high-spirited conversation, much unlike themselves (although the supply of drinks may have been to blame). Bellamy was speaking through one of his overconfident half-grins while alternating between gesturing to-and-fro with a single hand and tucking it back under his opposing bicep.

My chest was burning; the bonfire somehow must’ve seeped into my heart.

It should be stated here that when a nebula accumulates enough particles, it turns into a protostar—not a main sequence star like our sun, but something that holds the potential to be. At this point, the formation is at its most precarious. If a sufficient amount of mass is not acquired, the protostar will fail to stabilise and will cool into a brown dwarf, forever existing in the cold, lonely expansion of space as a reminder of what it could have been.

Bellamy’s head gravitated in my direction. Our eyes met through the asteroid belt of rugged figures between us. My breath caught in my throat, and I turned back around.

A reminder of what it could have been.

Sometimes I worry my insufficiency has damned me already.

“Oh, my god.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh my god, Raven, why would you put me through that?”

“In the hopes that you’ll finally grow a pair and do something about it,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink to conceal her smirk.

“About what?” Now I was just being evasive.

She let out a frustrated huff and folded her arms over one another. Her countenance was a reflection of impatience: the raised eyebrows, the slight downward tilt of her head, the pursed lips. I almost laughed at her theatricality; then again, I almost cried because I didn’t want the reason behind it to be true.

I wanted Bellamy Blake.

The confession was boiling inside me; it was burning the tip of my tongue, and I knew I had to let it out to cool. And if the words were never spoken to him, then they at least had to be expressed to someone else, even if I never admitted them in the exactness I felt, for the exact words would be so heinous, so—hedonistic, that if anyone were to hear them, I’d be thrown into lock-up for the rest of my days.

“Fine, I guess I’m… attracted to Bellamy,” I spoke slowly, cringing at my own words. Raven’s face immediately lit up like an overzealous Christmas tree, her smugly curved lips parting to no doubt release an incongruous stew of condemnation and encouragement, which I stopped before it could even start. “Anattraction that I am not going to act on, Raven; our friendship is rocky enough as it is. I mean,” I scoffed, “have I even told how we first met? I held a pocketknife to his neck our second night on the ground because he threatened to pry off my wristband in my sleep. And he actually tried! You know that tiny scar he has on his cheek? That was from me!”

“Yeah, sometimes I forget how much of a self-righteous dick he was for a while there,” Raven mused. Her face then screwed with confusion. “Wait, how did you two even become friends? Because when I came down, you were at each other’s throats every single day over one thing or another, and then out of nowhere, it was as if the slate had been wiped clean.”

Ah.

The day the slate had been wiped clean.

A thick blurriness blanketed my vision as my mind withdrew from the present. You know when you get run down with some kind of sickness and your mind gets all scrambled and foggy? Like a fever dream? That’s what that day seemed like to me. Too many unimaginable things had happened, too many emotions and losses were felt, and I’d only shared them with one person before.

“You still there?”

My gaze flickered to Raven momentarily. She was staring at me, half with impatience, half with concern. “Just—” I raised my hand slightly in front of me “—give me a second.”

I inhaled. One, two, three. And I exhaled. Three, two, one.

A vulnerable creature of some sort nestled in my brain, softening the tone of my voice as I hesitantly began, “It was the, uh, the day the Exodus Ship crashed. My dad was on it,” I said, my last words barely audible. “Knowing that he was gone was one thing, but watching the ship crash? That messed me up for a good while.”

Raven, taken aback, muttered her apologies. I just shook my head in return. I sucked in a sharp breath, forcing the memory into the cobwebbed corners of my mind, and then continued, “Bellamy had found me in the woods that night. It wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. I think that seeing me in such a vulnerable state forced him to set aside his asshole-ry for a while because he actually managed to… comfort me.”

I remembered the tone of his voice, so shockingly gentle yet hardened in his trademarked sort of way as he reassured me endlessly that I would be okay. I remembered the warmth of his body as I lay crumpled and sobbing in his lap on the forest floor, clinging onto his arm as if it kept me from plummeting into a bottomless pit. I remembered his hands, swiping away the thousands of tears that streaked my face, the hair from my eyes.

I remembered our brief conversation as we walked back to camp: “I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” he had said, to which I whispered, “Thank you,” and after a short pause, he spoke again, “We all need someone sometimes. I know we don’t have the best history together but… I can be that someone if you ever need,” and then, once more, with an unwelcome flutter in my stomach, I whispered, “Thank you.”

A small, bittersweet smile lifted my lips. My voice sounded distant to my ears as I continued speaking. “We still nicked at each other here and there after that—that tension between us has never really disappeared—but there was also this new mutual understanding. And somewhere from mutual understanding came a rough-around-the-edges friendship, and then friendship turned into something else.” I paused to recollect my thoughts. “Well, for me, at least.”

Between the moment I started speaking to the moment I stopped, my gaze had wandered sheepishly to the toes of my boots. I felt so exposed, like the outer layers of my being had been cracked open to reveal a part of my soul to a girl I hadn’t even known existed until two months ago. Suddenly I remembered why I didn’t drink often.

I stood awkwardly, waiting. The weight of my confession and vulnerability were looming above us.

Raven was quiet; she made no witty remark or tease. Her eyes had only softened with understanding, shifting back and forth as my words were mulled over in her brain. And it was only from her foreign silence that I realised what her next question could be: why don’t you just tell him?

I began, “I don’t want to ruin—"

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she finally interrupted, shaking her head as if to dismiss my unspoken sentiment. “The age-old ‘I don’t want to ruin what we have right now’. But what exactly is that?” Her eyes once again interrogated mine. “Because I’ll make it clear to you right now and say that what you two have is not just friendship. Come on. You and Bellamy?” She shifted her head to catch my drifting gaze. “Anyone with eyes can see something is there, but clearly, neither of you have a pair.”

Talk about tough love.

A harsh outflow of air exited my nose, and I pushed my hair back out of my face. Everything was much more complicated than I thought it was. Was I really as blind as Raven said? I would have already seen what she does if it were true, right? Did Bellamy really feel the same?

Am I drunk?

I glanced behind me once more, catching a glimpse of Bellamy tilting his head back to finish his drink, exposing the sculptured column of his neck. Heat flushed through my cheeks.

Christ. I couldn’t let this one go. There wasn’t a chance.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, still watching him.

An uproar of hoots and howls exploded throughout the square as the sound of drums and horns began to play, bringing my attention to the second-floor balcony of the Commander’s Tower where the noise floated down from. Drums pulsed with bawdy rhythm; horns bellowed with lewd backbone; a woman purred tribal vocalisations.

Bodies began swaying in disharmonious synchronisation around the bonfire, in pairs, in groups, individually. What tethered them was the raunchiness of their movements and the subtle carnality of their interactions with one another. I’d never seen anything like it; as I looked over at Raven and saw her similar intrigue, I knew she hadn’t either.

That was my mistake—to even acknowledge her in such a moment, especially after speaking about our previous topic. Her lips began stretching and stretching into a particularly wicked grin, and she turned to me. The devil was burning in her dark eyes.

Her answer to my question: “Give his eyes something to look at.”

part two

[keuwibloom]

Its been a while since ive posted anything Parasynth, so I thought id make these polaroid-inspired drawings to make up for it!

As an added bonus-- I have nicknames for the guys! I actually made these a while back, but I figured id post them here for organization purposes, and so its easier to differentiate when talking about Parasynth.

The nicknames + my reasons behind choosing them listed below the cut!

Blue "Polaris" - Also known as the "north star", polaris is the only stationary star in the night sky, commonly used as a compass for navigation. A star that symbolizes stability when you've lost your way.

Dream "Apollo/Pol" - Named after the Greek god of the sun, music, medicine, and archery, twin brother to Artemis. Went with this because of the twin thing and sun symbolism, plus the healer and archery association.

Ink "Opal" - Opal is a gemstone that shines with rainbow colors. A true opal gem also has a base color of white, which fits with Ink's whole thing. Ink also calls others "pal" so I thought the name would be a nice reference to that.

Axe "Condor/Kon" - A large scavenger bird, related to the vulture. One species of it is the largest flying bird in the world. A condor's head also has no feathers, which kinda reminds me of Axe's skull.

Nightmare "Artemis/Arte" - Named after the Greek goddess of the moon and the hunt, twin sister to Apollo. Chosen for the same reasoning as Dream's nickname. Artemis is also the goddess of wilderness and wild animals, which fits with the gang (in a "they're a group and they are dangerous" way).

Killer "Shrike" - A cute little passerine bird that is known to impale its prey on sharp things, usually thorns. Shrikes are also known as "butcher birds". I think it fits with his vibe, plus shrikes have these black markings over their eyes that remind me of Killer's eyes.

Dust "Owl" - A nocturnal bird that has eerily silent flight and large eyes that reflect light in the dark so it looks like its glowing. I was in between this one and "Kestrel", but I feel like Owl fits Dust's general vibe better.

Cross "Cypress/Cy" - A tree that symbolizes longevity and endurance, but also mourning. It's also associated with protection and strength. I was looking for stuff that was associated with the goddess Artemis and the cypress tree was one (also the gang as birds and Cross as the tree they rest on).

Error "Oregano" - An herb that has a very strong bitter/peppery taste and smell. It's known to have antiviral properties and other benefits, but it is best used in small amounts. I also chose this name to parallel Opal (rock VS plant).

Swap/Blue belongs to the AU Community

Dream and Nightmare belong to Jokublog

Ink belongs to Comyet

Horror/Axe belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios

Killer belongs to Rahafwabas

Dust belongs to Ask-Dusttale

Cross belongs to Jakei95

Error belongs to Loverofpiggies

[aziraphales-library]

Hi all! Thank you very much for all of your hard work. I've glad for this account since there is always something fun to read popping up. Can the Mods recommend any fics where either Aziraphale or Crowley use dating apps for any reason?

Hello. You'll find fics like this, including some of the fics listed here, on our #social media tag, but here are some dating app specific fics...

Bloggers, Baby! by Estrella3791 (T)

Crowley's a blogger, and he may or may not be developing a crush on his commenters. But he's not really - Oh, what's this? Angel1941 is on Tinder??

Oh, Lord, Heal This Love by WaitingToBeBroken (T)

"Looking for someone to take to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to notice we don't know each other," is what Crowley's dating profile says. Too bad Aziraphale was too busy staring at those graceful fingers in his picture to realise that, before he agreed to go on a date with him.

abide by me by cosmya (T)

The year is 2001. Crowley runs a fake marriage website, and Aziraphale has encountered a... problem that requires his services. Naturally, they have No Idea that it's each other at first, but when Aziraphale proves a difficult client, Crowley takes matters into his own hands.

Dim the Lights and Sing You Songs by Polaris (E)

A few months prior to leaving the Dowling household, Crowley had downloaded Grindr for the sole purpose of catfishing randy morons. He was not expecting a paragraph that began with: ‘hello. I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice you have the most lovely nipples.’ Crowley keeps trying to meet his Grindr fuckbuddy. Aziraphale keeps showing up at all his meeting spots. This is terrible.

MatchMade! by amaruuk (E)

Crowley tests a new dating app for an online publication. When his match dumps him for another man's match, he and his fellow dumpee take a chance on each other.

With Potential by Caedmon (E)

Aziraphale is an author of popular and successful romance novels. His books have done very well, so he's surprised when his publisher, Gabriel, comes in and tells him that they expect him to start including explicit sex scenes instead of just the fade-to-black he's been writing. Aziraphale argues a bit, but it's pointless. Gabriel isn't asking, he's telling. And now Aziraphale is in a pickle. He doesn't have a wide swath of sexual experience to pull inspiration from. So his assistant, Anathema, helpfully suggests that he download some dating apps and seek someone to hook up with for casual sex. Aziraphale is appalled by the idea of casual sex at first, and thinks that this plan is going to go absolutely nowhere, but agrees to give it a try. Three guesses what happens next.

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (E)

After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.

The Mathematical Improbability of Reaching the Stars by cassieoh, D20Owlbear (M)

Aziraphale, 3rd year doctoral candidate in Library Sciences and current failure at Astronomy 101, finds out about an app for meeting people from some undergraduates. He’s desperate for a tutor so he decides to try it out. Surely someone in the wilds of Tinder is willing to help him learn about the stars? Meanwhile, in said wilds of Tinder, Crowley (high school dropout, star enthusiast, and official garden center plant-harasser) is not really looking for anything past dinner and maybe ‘tea’ back at their place. Hijinks, and also a surprisingly intricate plot, ensue.

- Mod D

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 1

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, hints to a slight drinking problem, mentions of murder, serial killers, divorce & death, set after & before the events of season 3

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Welcome to another series, loves! I'm so excited to share this one! 🤍 You may read the Dirty Drabble that inspired it first, but there's references to the events of it throughout. Enjoy, babes! 😉

Huge special thanks to @blackcherrywhiskey, @deans-spinster-witch, @roseblue373 & @ladysparkles78 💚 for kicking my ass to write a whole series from that little one shot. I know y'all wanted me to bring the smut, and while I certainly did that, I couldn't resist bringing the angst. And well, once that angsty stone started to roll, it couldn't be stopped and downhill it all went... 😝 I usually do slow burns, so starting off hot and going in reverse for once was such a fun change!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 1: Caught Up In A Moment

September 2023

One. Two. Three.

At the third knock, your bare feet sprinted to the motel room door from the bathroom, a towel still in hand as you dried your damp hair.

“Coming!” you called out and twisted the knob, opening the door with a keen smile.

Beau stood in front of you in all his glory – washed jeans Sherpa jacket, a button-up in your favorite color, and some tight denim clad his muscular bow legs. That man always effortlessly took your breath away when he really shouldn’t.

A cocked brow graced his features as he eyed you from head to toe, a smile twitching on his plump, kissable lips underneath the scruffy beard. “You open the door always like this, darlin’?”

The familiar drawl made your knees weak. Back home, the accent was nothing special, but his deep timbre of a voice that made your bones tremble surely was. The combination of the two was heaven-sent and hell-bent.

“I just got out of the shower.” You shrugged innocently, your golden halo swinging with your sinful hips.

As you rubbed the rest of your hair dry, your black silk robe swayed with the movement of your legs before you leisurely discarded the used towel on your bed and waited for the handsome sheriff to follow you inside.

“Brought you something,” Beau said and wiggled a thick folder over his head as he walked in, closing the door behind him with a kick of his boot. He ceremoniously slapped the file on the small desk in your room.

Your lips curved into a sly grin. “Oh? Almost feels like my birthday, Mr. President.”

Beau let out a hearty laugh, showing off the endearing crinkles around his shimmering green eyes. “I think you’ve got something confused there, darlin’. It was Kennedy’s birthday.”

“Huh, so I’m the president and you’re my Marilyn?” you teased.

“Oh, I’ll happily be your Marilyn,” he said with a cheeky smile.

As your fingers eagerly leafed through the file, you could feel Beau’s breath fanning against your neck as he came to stand behind you, shiny leather boots plodding on sordid motel carpet. The hair on your skin saluted him as goosebumps rose.

You could smell his cologne as it tingled your nose, bergamot and cedar mixed with a hint of vanilla flooding your senses and washing a sea of memories into your mind. Memories you wished were lost and never found.

Postponing the deep dive to tomorrow, your eyes only skimmed over the contents of the folder. But just as you suspected, the victimology and modus operandi were all too familiar. You’d seen this before, and it wasn’t good.

You’d be here for a while.

“And?” Beau’s voice broke you from your thoughts before you felt his fingertips softly brushing the flesh on your hips. An electric shudder ran down your spine at his touch, your mind on the fritz.

“Definitely my jurisdiction,” you replied and closed the file.

Moaning with pleasure, you felt his lips on your neck, kissing a pathway down to your shoulder. One of your hands wandered up and tangled in his thick, luscious locks, grabbed and tugged until he groaned against the shell of your ear. You still managed to blab about the case with strained concentration.

“There’s been similar cases in, uhm… Texas… Utah… Colorado… Wyoming… and now here.”

“Hmm,” Beau hummed, not letting himself be disturbed. The vibrations of his voice thrummed against the column of your throat.

Your cunt clenched; you could feel the rising wetness between your legs and the growing bulge against your ass.

A large hand brushed stealthily across your stomach and snaked past the silk fabric to grab a generous breast, squeezing the tender flesh and tweaking the nipple between his thumb and a finger. His hardening cock pressed at the crack between your buttcheeks, your arousal dripping down your thighs.

A second palm wandered to your front but was bound southward this time. His digits pried apart your folds, two of them running through your slick with a growl in your ear before slipping inside your pussy. A whimper left your lips as you braced your palms on the surface in front of you for support, your legs threatening to buckle under the pressure.

But Beau wasn’t going to let you fall, his grip like a vice around you as he held you flush against his chest, hot breath tickling your earlobe and beard burning your cheek. You moaned his name with a few expletives as he thrust his fingers in and out of your soaked channel.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet. Want you to come for me,” he husked into your ear and pushed his erection even more against your ass. Your pussy clenched around him. “Yeah, that’s it. Squeeze those fingers like you’ll squeeze my cock… It’s been too fucking long. Wanna finally fill you, darlin’.”

“God, yes,” you whined in agreement as the coil in your belly tightened with each plunge into your heat.

He curled his knuckles and expertly thumbed your clit, making you cry out. His strokes became harder, your breathing grew labored. Your body quaked with each thrust, cunt throbbing around his fingers.

“Fuck,” you moaned as the heel of his palm rubbed your clit, igniting the fuse to the fireworks in your belly. Your explosion could be seen in the sky from miles away without binoculars.

“I gotcha,” Beau whispered as a strong arm wrapped around your ribcage, your pussy pulsing with his fingers deep inside you. Brushing your damp hair to one side of your neck, his teeth sunk into your shoulder as you steadied in his embrace.

“You’d think as the sheriff, you’d care a little more that a serial killer is running around and murdering citizens of your county,” you teased breathlessly.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Beau said simply, removing his wet fingers from your drenched cunt.

You lifted an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lower lip. “No?”

“Nope, not since you’re here,” Beau quipped and kissed your shoulder blade. “I know you won’t rest till you got that bastard all nicely cuffed up.”

You huffed a laugh. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of confidence in me, huh?”

“You betcha. Got nothin’ to do with confidence, either. I just know you, darlin’,” Beau stated with a cocksure grin and palmed one cheek of your ass as he rutted against you.

“Beau, fuck… I still have to lock the folder into the safe,” you managed to say, your mind in a haze of desire as your pussy whined in starving anticipation.

“C’mon, who’s gonna steal it, huh?” he muttered against your skin. “Would be a damn fool to break into a room with a sheriff and a federal agent.”

“You can never be too careful,” you argued lightly.

“Says the woman who can’t lock a damn door,” Beau sassed with a chuckle and threw you a raised look as he spun you in his embrace.

You laughed, your cheeks blushing when you were reminded of your little unfortunate adventure at lunch. Your arms draped around his neck as his hands wandered to your lower back, the two of you gently swaying from side to side.

“I’m sorry, okay? I told you. I thought it was locked.”

“Uh-huh.” Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d think with all those criminals running around, you’d know better.”

“Look, the Academy doesn’t technically teach us how to lock doors, just how to kick ‘em in, alright?” you retorted. He pecked the tip of your nose, flashing you a grin. “Is your deputy, okay? I felt bad. He looked traumatized. You know, he couldn’t look me in the eye when I left.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Beau laughed and rubbed his bearded chin before his palm moved back to its original place on the small of your back. “As soon as his shift was over, he bolted straight outta there. But Papa Smurf will be fine. Don’t worry about it,” he assured you with a warm smile that could melt several hearts. It sure did yours. “You do know, though, I’ll get teased for this, right?”

“I know.” You laughed and buried your face in his chest upon Beau’s playful glare. He pursed his lips as his cheeks flushed with color before placing a kiss on your crown. “I’m sorry. Maybe no one knows?”

“Y/N, this ain’t Houston. This is a small town. Everyone knows by now,” Beau reminded you with a small laugh.

Guiltily, you looked up at him and bit your lower lip, one corner of your mouth tugging upwards into a smirk. “I’ll make it up to you?”

“Oh?”

On tiptoes, you then nuzzled your nose against his, hands traveling from his neck to his cheeks as you tenderly caressed his beard and felt his breathing quicken. Your gazes locked. You got lost in pine green.

His fingers played with a wet strand of your hair, a smile fluttering on his mouth as he tucked it back behind your ear. His palm wandered to the back of your head and pulled you to his lips. The first kiss was tender and hesitant, like a kid testing the temperature of the ocean with its big toe before fully diving inside and getting carried away by the waves.

The kiss grew needier and rougher as he pushed you back until you hit the edge of the small desk in your room. Effortlessly, strong arms lifted you on the surface, your bare buttcheeks feeling the worn wood underneath. It was too easy for you two to fall back into an old rhythm.

“This is very handy, by the way,” Beau said with a smirk as his fingers opened the loosely tied bow of your robe and revealed your naked body underneath.

“Thought you’d appreciate it,” you purred as he slid the silky material off your shoulders, letting it billow around your waist.

“Oh, I do, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice loaded with lust, nibbling along your jaw. His mouth wandered down to your throat, sucking the skin purple and blue before he claimed your first breast, his tongue rolling over your nipple until it peaked.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered breathily, your head lolling back as he worshipped your body, running a river of kisses from your collarbone to the end of your ribcage. “Need you inside me, please.”

It had been so long, you had almost forgotten how good he was at making you come undone. Or better said, you had tried to forget it on purpose.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Beau growled huskily in your ear.

Cupping his cheeks, you needily brought him back to your lips, your breathing ragged between a dance of tongues. His kisses were addictive; one taste and you were hooked. Consumption became an obsession.

Your hands climbed down his body, unbuckled belt and unzipped jeans, palming his massively hard cock that only grew even larger in your hand. Everything was indeed bigger in fucking Texas.

While you popped every button of his maroon shirt, he slipped out of his jacket and boxers, his erection springing against his stomach. It was perfectly wide and long, dangerously able to stretch you to your fullest. Your mouth watered, the taste of him still fresh in your mind.

His shirt joined the graveyard of clothes on the floor as your legs wrapped around his waist. He positioned his head at your waiting entrance, catching your gaze as he pushed inside, sheathing his cock fully in your soaking channel.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned and rested his head on your shoulder as he momentarily stilled when he was at your deepest. He inhaled your scent and memorized every note like a love song. His lips bit and soothed your skin in a vicious cycle. There was no escaping him.

His harmless words caused a sting in your chest, however, cutting deeper than any knife could. You tried to ignore the dulled pain, reminding you of your oath to keep it casual this time. Your heart couldn’t get dragged back into his mess. Once was enough for a lifetime.

Beau had a punch list. You had a forget-about-him list.

A part of you doubted your decision to come here. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe no amount of time would ever be enough.

Beau grabbed you tightly and carried you to the bed, your legs still wrapped around him, still connected with him inside of you. Your back touched the light sheets underneath you as his weight heavily laid on top of you, pressing him further into you until you felt him at the spot you loved so much.

“Oh, fuck,” you mewled as he moved your thigh over his shoulder and thrust even deeper inside of you, filling you to the brim. It felt like he had remembered every move, everything you’d ever loved.

His hips then began to snap faster. Harder. He bottomed out each and every time. You felt him everywhere, your nerve endings catching fire as the flames inside you rose, climbed and burned down walls.

Beau could feel you were close, and he was right there with you. His hand snaked between your sweat-clad bodies and found your sensitive spot once more, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit till he pushed you over the cliff and you lost sight of the shore.

Ocean. Waves… Your boat capsized and got lost in them.

His lips sought out yours. His kiss was deep and passionate and lasting as his hips stilled, spilling his release inside of you with a guttural grunt. Your muscles trembled, your pussy tight and throbbing around his cock, and yet, still craving more. He was the worst drug you’d ever known.

As he slipped out of you and rolled next to you, both of you were panting heavily on the mattress. You stared at the water-stained ceiling above you, your skin glistening and sticky.

Chuckling, Beau ran a hand through his hair and whistled lowly. “Man… this was… wow,” he said and opened his arm, inviting you into his embrace.

“Yeah,” you breathed in agreement, your cheeks flushed as a blissful smile haunted your features. As your head rested safely on his chest, you listened to his heartbeat, steady and reliant, and concentrated on his tender and calm caresses on your arm.

“You know, I really did miss this,” he told you and placed another affectionate kiss on top of your head.

“Me too,” you admitted quietly and felt your heart crack a little more.

“You know, this kinda reminds me of that night in that shabby motel in Mexico,” Beau reminisced with a soft laugh. “Not Juárez but, uhm… Culiacán! Minus the food poisoning.”

“Sure as hell taught me to never eat tacos from some shady street truck again, no matter how hungry a stake-out makes me,” you agreed, chortling.

“Yeah, pretty damn sure that wasn’t beef,” Beau added. “Tasted like armadillo.”

Amused, you lifted a brow. “How do you know what armadillo tastes like?”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” he replied and shuddered in disgust to drive the point home.

Laughing came easy with Beau. During stormy times, his heart was your lighthouse, burning in the distance. But then, it suddenly wasn’t one day, swallowed by fog and leaving you surrounded by darkness. Walking down memory lane also reminded you of that – the times when your tears could fill an ocean.

Moving out of his arms, you left the familiar and irresistible warmth and grabbed one of your navy FBI shirts from your duffel bag, pulling it over your head. Soon you found a pair of gray sweatpants as well. With each clothing item, you added another layer over your heart.

Beau watched you get dressed in silence, feeling you pull back from him. His heart twinged with anguish; his soul throbbed with longing. It was rare that he was at a loss for words, but you had a habit of leaving him speechless.

Softly, he cleared his throat to catch your attention and get you out of your head. “I meant what I said today, you know? I want you to stay, Y/N. Even when this case is over. I was serious about that.”

“I know.” You nodded, an amused snort involuntarily escaping your throat. “Just hard to believe, I guess… especially with Carla being available again.”

You bit your tongue and closed your eyes as the words slipped out of your mouth. You didn’t mean to, but it did.

“Y/N–”

You quickly turned around and faced him, doing your best at damage control. “Beau, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Beau said and shook his head.

He grabbed his clothes from the floor, feeling his time with you quickly coming to an end. He wanted to at least be dressed in case he had to chase after you. He figured one naked public outing per day was enough for Helena’s sheriff.

“Look, let’s just talk about it. Get it all out in the open, alright?”

“Beau, really, I get it. You don’t have to explain,” you replied in an attempt to brush him off.

“Yes, I do,” Beau insisted as he slid back into his jeans and buttoned his shirt, his gaze drilling into yours and pleading with you. Rising from the bed, he stalked closer to you. “A lot’s changed since the last time we saw each other. I told you. I moved here to be closer to Em.”

You rolled your eyes back and scoffed. Carding a hand through your hair, you spun on your heel in disbelief. You had to take a moment before looking at him again. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Beau sighed and conceded, hands held high in defense in case you fired another shot. “Alright, I hear ya. Maybe that wasn’t entirely true… initially. But it certainly is now, alright? It’s more complicated than you think. It just-… There’s so much I need to tell you… Carla and I… that’s over. Resolved, okay? Trust me. You don’t need to be worried.”

“I’m not worried!” you lied. Badly, might you add, but you didn’t care if he believed you or not. You let out a deep sigh and tried a calmer approach. “Look, uhm, maybe this was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have–… We-, we got caught up in a moment. I mean, that’s our thing, right? It doesn’t mean anything. Let’s just concentrate on the case and then go our separate ways again, alright?”

“Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t push me to the sidelines,” Beau contended firmly. “It does mean something. It never didn’t. You know that.”

“Do I? I didn’t push you anywhere, Beau. You’re the one who left,” you snapped and unapologetically shrugged your shoulders once the words escaped. You held back the tears that brimmed in your eyes. The afterglow evaporated. Soberly, you walked to the door and nodded towards the exit. “I think you should go… After all, it’s what you do best.”

Beau smacked his lips, his brow creasing as he averted his green eyes and thoughtfully glanced out the window, his hands resting on his squared-off hips. You knew it was a low blow, but you couldn’t stop yourself, either. It was the truth, and sometimes it hurt to hear it.

Nodding, he scratched his beard. “Alright, I’ll go, but we’re not done,” he said resolutely. Internally, you sighed. You forgot they grew quite stubborn in Texas, too. “Look, I know I’ve made mistakes. I screwed up a lot… especially with you. But I’m not giving up… He wouldn’t want me to.”

With that, he walked out the door. As it closed behind him, you exhaled a deep and long breath. Looking out the window, your eyes drifted from the parking lot and gazed up at the famous big sky above you.

You found yourself fascinated by the twinkling spots of light in the midnight blue. Pensively, you glanced down at your hand and twisted the golden band on your ring finger. Your eyes then found one of the brightest stars in the dark night sky, Polaris, hoping it would guide your sinking ship back home.

September 2021

“This is the most boring stake-out ever,” you complained and blew a raspberry in frustration, leaning back against the metal hood of the car as the Milky Way shone brightly above you and the cicadas chirped their song in the distance.

You had parked the SUV on top of a plateau in the middle of the Chihuahuan desert somewhere in Mexico, overlooking a cartel hideout, but far enough away to not be spotted.

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re coming tonight. We better check that intel again tomorrow,” Beau said with a sigh and took off his cowboy hat, laying it on the hood behind him.

“I’ll talk to my CI again,” you replied and sighed as well, your eyes feeling more tired than they’d ever been. It had been a long few months and sleeping wasn’t exactly high on your priority list.

Beau nodded and ran a hand through his hair, scratching his head in impatient irritability. He then pulled out a silver flask from the inner pocket of his Sherpa jacket and took a big swig.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “We’re still on the job, you know?”

He stared straight ahead, not daring to look at you as the crescent moon hung high above him. “Yeah, so?”

“Nothin’.” You shrugged, not wanting to start a fight or upset him. “Just noticed you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Since the funeral… It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, things change,” he said bitterly and took another sip.

“I worry about you,” you confessed quietly, the concern shimmering in your eyes.

At that, he finally turned his head and caught your gaze. “Don’t. You’ve got enough to worry about. You don’t need me on your list.”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” you said and sent him a small smile. “In fact, all I do is worry about you. You’re the only thing on the list, actually.”

“Hmm… I guess it’s nice to know that at least someone cares,” he muttered and drank again.

“Oh, don’t gimme that! Stop with the sulking and the feeling sorry for yourself,” you chided and sat up straight, getting a better look at him as you leaned your arms on your knees. “Did you talk to her since… you know?”

He threw you a sideways glance, lifting a brow. “Since we signed the divorce papers? Nope,” he replied and popped the p, taking another swig.

“Maybe it’s not too late. Just talk to her,” you repeated words you’d said a thousand times by now. “That’s all she wants, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Beau nodded quietly, a thick swallow stuck in his throat as he stared at the desolate landscape ahead.

“You talk to me about it. I’m sure Carla would understand,” you added.

“I talk to you ‘cause I got no choice. You deserved to know how I fucked up. ‘Sides, you were already knee-deep in this shit. No stoppin’ ya,” Beau said. His eyes found yours briefly before he averted his gaze again.

“I prefer shoulder-deep,” you joked lightheartedly. Then, the familiar heaviness returned, weighing down your chest, your heart aching. “Feels like quicksand around my throat.”

“Yeah,” Beau agreed quietly, tongue swiping across his lips. “That’s why I don’t want her anywhere near this. With Carla… I have a choice.”

“She’s a defense attorney. She’s seen some shit, you know?” you pointed out. “I mean, is it really worth losing your family over?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Beau said stoically. He then let out a humorless laugh that you couldn’t place before putting the flask to his lips again.

“Okay, enough. Gimme that,” you snapped and grabbed the silver container from him, swallowing down a big gulp. You grimaced in disgust, everything in your body shuddering at the awful taste. “Dear fucking Lord! What the hell is that?”

In response, he snorted and gave you a passive twitch of his shoulders. “Little bit of everything I could find in the motel minibar.”

“Ew! You’re pathetic,” you retorted with a crinkle of your nose and meant it partially as a joke. You had always bantered like this, but this time, he took you by your word.

“Yeah, that’s what Carla said, too,” he belittled himself.

“Okay, stop with the pity party. I can’t take any more of this sad face you’ve got going on there,” you remarked with a huff. It broke your own heart to see his shattered like this. You missed his sunny laugh and the endless bad jokes and the nonstop chatter. He’d always been a good man, despite this newfound darkness of his, and deserved better.

“Well, get used to it. It ain’t going anywhere,” Beau replied, much to your dismay.

“Fine,” you relented and let out a sigh.

Silence fell between you two, only filled by the cicadas and the coyotes roaming about. Thoughtfully, you stared up at the beautiful night sky and spied a shooting star, feeling almost silly for daring to make a wish.

“Randy always said you should fight for the things that are worth fighting for,” Beau’s voice finally broke the silence. “Never give up.”

You peeled your eyes away from the stars above and looked at him. You chuckled softly at the memory. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He was annoyingly persistent like that.”

“I just don’t know if it’s worth it, I guess,” he said quietly.

“Of course it is,” you insisted. “You love Emily and Carla. They’re your family.”

“I’ve let them down… I’ve let a lotta people down, actually,” Beau said, and you could feel his eyes on you from your periphery.

“It’s been a tough year,” you said sympathetically.

“It has,” he agreed soberly and turned his gaze to the night sky above you. “You know what star this is?”

“The North Star, right?” you guessed, following his gaze to the Little Dipper constellation.

“Yeah, Polaris. It’s fixed in the sky while everything else moves ‘round it. It’s supposed to help you find your way when you’re lost,” he explained. “True north.”

“You’ll find your way again,” you told him confidently and nudged his shoulder, giving him a small but encouraging smile. “No one’s blaming you for what happened, Beau, so give yourself some grace, okay?”

He nodded, swallowing harshly as he met your gaze. “Thank you.”

Confused, you furrowed your brow. “For what?”

“Not leaving when you should’ve…”

You smiled softly. “We’re friends… and trauma bonded. I’d never do that to you.”

Beau matched your smile, but you could see the tears stinging in the corners of his forest-green eyes as the sadness overwhelmed him. “Shit,” he cursed, burying his face in his palms. He sniffed.

Concerned, your brows drew together. You laid your hand on his shoulder and gingerly stroked his back. “Beau, what’s going on?”

“I can’t…” He struggled for words, shook his head. Whatever was on his mind, he refused to voice it. His lower lip quivered before he covered his mouth with his palm, running a hand over his beard. Then, a sad smile grazed his face. “You know, I always thought Randy was the luckiest bastard alive.”

“Why?”

Beau didn’t respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you until his lips crashed against yours. You were shocked for a moment, froze down to your core. But then your hands found his cheeks and reflexively pulled him closer, a magnet you had no power over.

His hands did much the same, needily roaming your body and holding you flush against his own. His tongue hungrily slipped inside and devoured yours, tasting like the contents of the flask. Tequila, whiskey, and vodka were only a few you could decipher, but now the aftertaste was heaven instead of hell.

The kiss lasted till your head spun, a lack of oxygen forcing him to withdraw. It could’ve been chalked up to a drunken misstep, a glitch in the fabric of the universe that could’ve been swallowed by a black hole just as suddenly as it happened. But for you, it was enough to turn your whole world upside down and toss your planet out of orbit.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against your lips. The further he retreated, the more you could see the battle raging in his mind. “Fuck,” he cursed and clasped his mouth with his palm.

He jumped off the hood and walked a few suicidal-crazed steps towards the cliff, his back standing like a tall wall between you. You watched his shoulders tense as his gaze drifted upwards to the sky. It seemed like he was praying.

Your fingers touched your kiss-swollen lips, hot and yearning for more. There was a tug on your heart, a rope lassoed around the muscle that pulled you to him.

“Beau?”

Your call of his name forced him to face you. An apologetic and torn look pervaded his features as he fought a combat in his mind and wrung with the feelings in his heart.

“It’s okay,” you said gently.

He met your eyes, a shimmer of hope in his as a glimpse of a smile twitched on his lips. Something you hadn’t seen in well over a year. It was so delicate, you weren’t sure it wasn’t a malfunction. A damn counterfeit.

“How?” His question hung from the moon with despair.

“I don’t know.”

He stared at you for a moment, the hesitation behind his eyes still prominent. You felt the magnetic pull again, and you could tell that he felt it, too.

And then, with a few strides, he was in front of you, hands in your hair as he claimed your lips in a scorching kiss that set your entire world on fire. You sunk into him, forever lost in a cosmos of green, sucked in by his gravity, air gone from your lungs, and feet never touching ground again.

Beau sat in his car in the quiet parking lot of the motel, his gaze wandering up to the night sky above as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. His other hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping.

The same old war waged in his mind. Guilt filled his heart and bubbled to the surface. He debated whether he should turn the ignition or knock on your door. He always felt torn, unsure if you were a mistake or the best damn thing of his life.

His green eyes then fixed on the North Star, praying it would show him the way to your heart once more. This time, he swore to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t lose it. He’d keep it safe.

‘Cause the first time he kissed you, it surely changed everything for him.

Chapter 2: No Signs, No Compasses – MAY 8

If you've caught my not-so-subtle hints throughout this, you can already smell the drama and angst this series has in store for you 😂

Any ideas who Y/N is yet? Let me know in the comments 😏🤍

Hope you enjoyed this smangsty introduction!

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

[rassicas]

Return of the Mammalians Log.exe, retranslated

There’s a handful of differences between the ENG and JP version of the secret final Alterna Log, Log.exe. Much of it is fine, but there’s a few things in the localization that I think are...not great. I’ll talk about it at the end I reused some of the wording in the localization that I thought was close enough to the JP, and some of it I rewrote. ok translation under the cut

Return of the Mammalians There were those of humankind who gave up on the desolate Earth. They placed many surviving animals in a cold sleep, put them on a spaceship- the Ark Polaris- and set it off into space. The mission: to search for a new planet to replace the Earth.

The Polaris had a smooth voyage...until it reached the edge of the solar system. It was at that point that debris struck the vessel, damaging its navigation system. The crew was able to turn the ship around and and head back toward Earth, but the effort was in vain-there was not enough fuel to attempt a landing. The Ark Polaris drifted in Earth’s orbit for over 10,000 years.

Eons passed. The once-stable orbit of the Polaris decayed over time until the ship found itself in the inescapable pull of the Earth's gravity. All the humans and animals aboard perished, save one. Bear #03, an experimental subject who had retained consciousness within his cold hibernation, miraculously survived. For 12,000 years he had been thinking, dreaming of the planet he would emigrate to. From this, he gained a very high level of intelligence.

Upon waking, Bear #03 discovers that he had not landed on a new planet at all. He was back on Earth. An Earth dominated by marine life, with not a single mammal in sight.

In the course of his search for a single fellow mammal, Bear #03 used navigational equipment from the wreckage of the Ark Polaris to discover Alterna, located deep within the Crater. Its inhabitants had gone extinct, but upon examining the facilities, he discovered that the thoughts of humanity were burned into the liquid crystals covering the inner walls of Alterna. Thus, Bear #03 repaired Alterna's facilities and began researching the crystals...

This research bore fruit when Bear #03 compounded some of the liquid crystals with his own fur. The experiment created an entirely new substance capable of transforming any living creature into a mammal. As the only surviving mammal, He decided it was his job to restore mammals to the Earth. He aimed to mammalianize all life by using Alterna’s rocket to spread Fuzzy Ooze from the sky.

Bear #03 set out to gather Golden Eggs, indispensable in both the creation of the Fuzzy Ooze and for launching the rocket. For this, he took on the name of Mr. Grizz and founded Grizzco Industries.

Thanks to the assistance of unsuspecting Inklings and Octolings, Bear #03 secured a massive quantity of Golden Eggs. He was ready to take the final steps to set his plan in motion...

My comments:

-The “plotting and dreaming” line bugged the hell out of me, because “plotting” has some connotation of an “evil long term plan”, and Grizz had no motivation to carry out his mammal restoration plan until AFTER he woke up. The JP version is more clear about what he was dreaming about, and it doesn’t sound as evil. -the paragraphs about Grizz discovering Alterna and Fuzzy Ooze are interesting in how they’re a bit different from the ENG version. Not a fan of the “mammalian paradise!” line I thought it sounded kind of like a idiotic cartoon supervillain there. I mean he kind of is and his plan fucking sucks, but the original line makes his motivations sound a bit more reasonable-taken-to-an-insane-extreme rather than just cartoonishly insane. JP Grizz sounds more level-headed and deep in thought. -I invite you to compare the second to last paragraph, as the changes in this part are what inspired me to retranslate this. The localization left out the crucial information that the eggs are rocket fuel, and instead added in some fluff about ORCA being not-so-omniscient that wasn’t present in the original.

[k3itar0-with-a-three]

so I know nobody asked for this, BUT

have a scene inspired Naegami post :)

Fun fact: the outfit I gave Makoto is actually something I wear sometimes! Mostly cause I'm a Makoto kin COUGH COUGH

Fun fact 2: I gave Byakuya/Polaris a Monodam hat cause they're both voiced by the same guy in the EN dub, and cause I think he'd look nice with it :>

feel free to use these lil designs if you wanna, just be sure to credit me :]

[cyanbugremix]

The Stars Remind Me of You

Characters: Sam/Darlin', Sam's Grandma Adeline

CW: None; Fluff, maybe some angsty feels

Written in July 2024

Summary: Sam's grandma, Adeline, introduces him to stargazing one summer night.

Notes: Inspired and written for one of my friends based on a song they found, "Saturn" by Sleeping At Last, and their headcanon that a reason why Sam likes stargazing is because his Grandma Adeline loved it.

Can be found ✨here on Ao3✨, written by moi (cyan_bug37 on Ao3)

~~~~

“Come here out of the light,” Her voice whispered, as if she didn’t want to disturb the crickets and lightning bugs.

Sam stepped off the porch, crossing through the cool grass, and heard the background chatter of their family gathering that they both had ditched. The heat of the summer had been washed away by an afternoon thunderstorm, and the sky was exceptionally clear. The clearness was the main reason why they had come outside.

“Mamaw,” He loudly whispered. “What if there are coyotes and they get us in the dark?”

She laughed, glancing at the house, “Don’t you worry about that, Sam. With the noise they're makin’ in there, I’m sure the coyotes don’t want anythin’ to do with us.”

A breeze blew through, rustling his hair. His grandma had chosen a spot to lay, close to her flowering bushes, but they were far enough from the porch to be in the dark. He laid down next to her, arms touching together, warmth against the slight chill of the grass.

“Okay, close your eyes, let them adjust to the dark. . . are you doin’ it?”

“Yeah,” Sam giggled. He closed his eyes before opening them again after a few seconds, the world seeming a little brighter and blue.

“Alright, now make sure you’re lookin’ at the sky.”

Sam glanced up and frowned. “It looks like how the sky normally looks, Mamaw.”

“Well, yes,” She agreed. “Lots of stars and darkness, but do you know the names of the stars?”

“I know the north star is called Polaris,” Sam replied. He vaguely remembered hearing about it from someone.

“Aren’t you a smart boy? I don’t think I even knew what Polaris was at your age,” She praised.

Sam grinned, feeling a warmth in his chest at the compliment.

“How about I show you a constellation by usin' Polaris as a startin’ point?”

“Okay.”

“Well give me your hand so I can point accurately.” He held out his small hand, and felt her calloused but gentle grip wrap around his wrist and palm. His grandma adjusted her head closer, aiming his now pointed finger. “If you go there, to there. . .”

Sam followed the pattern in the sky.

“You have Ursa Minor. The little bear or the little dipper. There’s the myth that the god Zeus magically transformed one of his son’s and son’s lover into the bear constellations to escape his wife Hera’s wrath. And then, if we go back to Polaris. . .” She guided his small hand, “And we go this way, you’ll find the Draco constellation.”

“Draco.”

“Yes. He’s a serpent,” His grandma explained, tracing the path to each star. “Draco was often used in many Greek myths as an obstacle for guardin’ somethin’.”

“Do they all have myths?”

His grandma hummed, “I don’t think so. Some were only named so people knew where to find the other constellations.”

Sam quietly absorbed the information, and studied the way that if he focused long enough, he could find even more stars buried further in the darkness. And if he looked straight up, the sky looked round, like they were in a big dome.

“Mamaw, how do you know so much about the stars?”

She laughed again, “Oh, well, when I was younger I’d go outside in the evenin’s, once I was done helpin’ clean up supper, and take my stargazin’ book with me. Some nights, I could read by moonlight and be able to find new constellations. The nights I couldn’t, I’d enjoy stayin’ out, even if my mother gave me many warnin’s about the dangers in the night.”

Sam tried to count how many bright dots he could see, partially listening to the story as his right hand tapped the grass to keep track.

“Even in the winter, I’d bundle up and go out. And then my mother would go, ‘Adeline, you’ll be so absorbed in the stars you’ll catch frostbite or slip into a pond and not even notice it until you can’t see your stars anymore’.”

His grandma turned to look at her grandson and noted his faint whispers of numbers. Of course, a little boy like him wouldn’t be so interested in family stories, so Adeline changed the subject. “How many are there, Sam?”

“Thirteen. . Fourteen. . Fifteen. .”

“Did you know that there are millions of stars? Some we can’t even see?”

“Really? Do they all have names?” Sam gaped, pausing his count.

His grandma sat up. “Well, I’m not sure all of them do, but we could certainly go see if my books have anythin’ about it.”

Sam hurriedly got up, before trying to help up his grandma.

They both walked at a steady pace before thumping up the wooden steps to the porch. His grandma peeked through a window and bit her cheek, before telling Sam that she’d retrieve the book and to stay outside. He plopped down onto one of the wicker chairs and patiently waited.

The backdoor opened after a few minutes, and Adeline held a simple lavender colored book, with dark words engraved on the front, almost in cursive.

She opened it to a page, with pictures of the stars filled with black boxes, dots and lines to convey reality onto paper. With each constellation, a list of names and numbers showed what stars made up the design.

She slowly knelt down and watched her grandson flip to the next page with the precision of a medical operator, careful not to tear any pages. It was a trait that always astounded Adeline of the young boy.

“Sam, can I flip to the summer section?” She soon asked, fingers hovering above the corner of the page he was on.

“Okay.”

“Thank you.” The page she landed on was about the middle of the book. “Now, I have a challenge for you.”

“A challenge?”

His grandma smiled, “I want you to pick a summer constellation from this book. Then when you find a good one, we can try to find it together. Does that sound fun?”

Sam thought about it for a moment, before nodding.

The porch light wrapped everything in a soft yellow. The smell of pine trees and flowers being carried with every breeze, and the blinking of the lightning bugs were almost like the stars had been brought down to earth. He looked up, the wind tousling both of their hair, and her warm brown eyes fondly staring at her grandson.

- - -

Darlin’ found Sam laying on the roof, washed in moonlight. They sat down, hands digging into the rough texture of the shingles, and placed a kiss on his forehead. He hummed.

They lifted themselves away from him, taking in the sight of their mate and brushing his hair away from his face. They went to lay down next to him, but then something caught their attention. They raised their eyebrows, now eyeing the book lying above his head. “What’s this thing?”

“Just. . . somethin’ from the past,” He shared.

Darlin’ scooted a little further up to it. They opened the cover of the very worn purple book. Its corners were bent, and the pages were yellowed, but it was still mostly in-tact at the spine. They flipped open to the first few pages.

“Wow. . .” Darlin’ hummed. “A stargazing book from the 1940’s. Now you’re really owning up to the old man title.”

Sam silently rolled his eyes.

Darlin’ frowned at his lack of response to the tease, and chose to lay closely next to their mate. Once comfortable, they rested their pinkie over his to ask for permission. Sam curled his finger over theirs and faced them.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” They muttered, glancing back and forth between his silver eyes.

“I know Darlin’, it’s alright.”

He gave their pinkie a squeeze before gazing back up at the sky. They didn’t expect him to say anything else about the book. They knew that his past was hard and understood how it brought up unwanted feelings.

“It’s from my Mamaw. One of the books we used to read together,” He took a deep breath before exhaling the rest of his thoughts, “She gave it to me before I ran away.”

Darlin’ eyes widened.

“I’m not sure if she knew the future. . . or if it just happened to be luck, but I took that book with me when I left. . . it helped on the bad nights.”

They laid in silence for a minute, the crickets chirping away in the dark.

“I wish I could’ve gone stargazin’ with her one last time,” Sam suddenly whispered. He pursed his lips together to keep his wanted tears at bay. He lightly shuddered in a breath, “But she used to say that she hoped she would live in the stars when she passed. So in a weird way, maybe she is stargazin’ with me.”

Darlin’ slowly wrapped their hand over his, their thumb rubbing circles over his skin. “She sounds like she was a good person.”

A breeze swept over them.

“Yeah. She was.”

~~~~

As always, I have no ownership or rights to these characters, stories, or franchises. I write this to appreciate the content Redacted ASMR/audio makes. Anything I write is not official in their stories, other than using moments from the original story line. I make no profit from this.

Please don't steal.

[trivialbob]

Two of three dogs are sedated. The third is tired from chasing a monarch butterfly around the back yard. No worries, the orange and black insect got away safely.

Sheila is working late tonight. Instead of the ambulance, she and her partner have a Polaris Ranger UTV. It's like a baby ambulance. It even has flashing lights. They use it at parades and other events where the usual rig may be too large.

Tonight I'm going to finish the final season of Black Sails on Netflix. The pirate story is interesting. As I watch I keep thinking how awful everyone must smell. They're in the Bahamas, wearing heavy coats, long sleeve shirts and tall leather boots. The men are always filthy. And bruised, beat up, cut and concussed. There isn't any Old Spice, a washing machine or Band-Aids to be seen anywhere!

As I watch I'm going to enjoy this bottle of Surly East. It's a "Tiki-inspired barrel-aged strong ale with natural flavors added." It is part of my Christmas present from Sheila. She signed me up for Surly's quarterly special release beers. This one is #2. I have to wait a few more months before they release #3. I love these interesting beers and ales. Getting one every quarter is the gift that keeps on giving.

[goforth-ladymidnight]

A Second Chance, Ch. 14

@praetorqueenreyna @thrumbolt @achaotichuman @taymartiart @northern-polaris @zivotzaruzi (Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged.)

Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

Wordcount: 7.9k

Summary: Tamlin breaks some hearts (and no, I will not spoil it by saying whose), and Lucien and his brother learn more about their family's company audit

Read on AO3, or read here below the cut:

Click.

Tamlin lowered the camera with a sniff and tried to wiggle his numb nose. He’d been out in the cold for nearly an hour now, and he hadn’t seen anyone matching Vassa’s description, aside from the round, red-capped finches he was pretending to be so fascinated by.

He glanced over at the busy coffee cart on the other side of the park, with its jolly holly-green umbrella and bright red coffee cups. He sighed wistfully, and his breath was visible in the chilled air. Some hot coffee would be just the thing on a cold day like this. The sky promised more snow later, as if they didn’t already have enough.

As he trudged through the ankle-deep snow, he readjusted the strap of the camera bag bouncing uncomfortably against his frozen hip, and grumbled at himself for coming up with such a brilliant plan.

At least he had Lucien’s scarf to keep him from becoming a walking, talking snowman.

As he fell in line behind two young women, he lifted the scarf to his nose and gratefully breathed in the faint, orange-scented cologne. Now that his mouth and nose were beginning to thaw, he could start thinking clearly again.

He was doing this for Vassa, he reminded himself. Vassa was Lucien’s friend, and Jurian’s girlfriend, besides. No matter how much Jurian might try to deny it.

If the Scythian mafia was after her, no matter what their reasons were, it was reason enough to keep her out of their clutches. But was it worth the risk if it meant putting another redhead in harm’s way?

“Hi! Two peppermint lattes, please,” the young woman in front of him cheerily told the coffee cart attendant.

Tamlin glanced over the black chalkboard menu, at the options written in a curly white script. He usually got a black coffee, but would it be gay if he tried a peppermint latte for once?

He shook his head and scolded himself. So what if it was? Hadn’t he just had—as Lucien put it—hot gay sex, the night before?

Even the memory of it made him blush.

“What can I get you?” the attendant asked him.

Tamlin startled, then stepped forward. “Oh, yeah. Hi. Um… Two black coffees, please,” he said automatically, and was suddenly disappointed in himself. Why would anyone care about his order, anyway? He was the one drinking it, not them. When the attendant reached for two red coffee cups, Tamlin stopped him. “Actually, could you make them peppermint lattes, instead?” he asked shyly.

“Ooh, nice choice,” someone remarked.

He turned his head to see the same two young women standing nearby, sipping at their own peppermint drinks. They were dressed in blue and green puffy jackets and white leggings, complete with woolen legwarmers and stocking hats with fuzzy pom-poms on top. They made standing out in the cold look a lot more fun than it actually was.

“We don’t really see guys go for the so-called girly drinks,” her friend continued, and shrugged shyly. “It’s cute.”

“Well, you two inspired me,” he said, smiling. “It never hurts to try something new, right?”

“Right,” she said, while her friend nudged her. They both looked like they were trying very hard not to giggle. Had he said something funny?

“You’ll have to tell us what you think,” her friend said brightly, then gestured to the other and continued, “Cat usually goes for pumpkin spice, but it is almost Christmas, so…”

“‘Tis the season,” Tamlin agreed conversationally, as if they weren’t complete strangers. Still, it didn’t hurt to be friendly.

“Indeed,” she said with a smile.

As he returned her smile, he noticed that she had bright, teal blue eyes, and coppery red bangs peeking out beneath her stocking hat. If it weren’t for her freckles and pale skin, she could almost pass for Vassa…

“That’ll be ten,” the clerk said, bringing him back to the present.

“Oh, that much, huh?” Tamlin said with a shy laugh, and pulled out his wallet.

As he pulled out the correct number of bills, the redhead remarked, “They have some of the best coffee in town. It’s worth it, I promise.”

“I’m sure it is,” he said affably, then took the steaming cups in hand with a nod of thanks.

As he stepped aside to make way for the next customer, he tried to think of a tactful way to ask for her picture, but the talkative redhead didn’t give him the chance.

“So, what do you think?” she asked him.

“About what?”

She and her friend exchanged another one of their barely contained smiles. “Of the coffee?”

“Oh,” he said, and carefully managed a sip. As the warm brew slid down his throat, he licked his lips. “It’s uh… peppermint-y,” he remarked, unsure of how else to describe it. “But it’s not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” her companion—Cat—said, and took a sip herself.

The redhead glanced between them, looking thoughtful. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Cat—with dark hair and equally bright blue eyes—nearly spat out her coffee. “Gwyn!” she chided, and smacked her arm.

The redhead—Gwyn—gave her an innocent shrug. “What? You were taking forever to ask him out, so…” She nodded at Tamlin, as if to say: I did you a favor; you can thank me later.

Tamlin’s lips twitched into a shy smile, and he found himself blushing. “Look, it’s not that I’m flattered, but…”

“You see?” Cat said quickly. “He has a girlfriend. I knew it. Can we go now, please?” Her cheeks were as pink as Tamlin’s felt, and not just from the cold.

“The thing is, I don’t have a girlfriend,” he tried to explain.

“Oh, you don’t?” Cat said, sounding somewhat hopeful.

Tamlin winced and sucked in a cold, sharp breath between his teeth. “I actually have a boyfriend. Sorry.”

Both girls groaned and exchanged sad, disappointed smiles.

“How come all the cute ones are gay?” Cat complained with a pouting lip, which only made Tamlin blush harder.

“Az isn’t gay,” Gwyn told her, sounding somewhat annoyed.

“Yeah, but he’s taken. By you.”

Gwyn turned to Tamlin with wide, hopeful eyes. “Do you have any brothers?”

Tamlin chuckled as Cat squawked in protest, and brushed a stray hair from his warm cheek with his wrist. “They’re married,” he said ruefully, but even if they weren’t, he wouldn’t wish them on anyone, straight or otherwise.

“Figures,” Cat muttered, then gave Tamlin a polite smile. “Thanks, anyway.”

“Anytime,” he said automatically, which made no sense, given the circumstances.

“Tam? Hey, Tam!” a familiar voice called out, and he turned in shock to see Lucien, of all people, trotting up to greet him.

“Lu?” Tamlin said with a surprised laugh. “What are you doing here?”

Lucien grinned, and his cheeks were flushed from jogging in the cold. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and said, “I was just across the street and thought I’d get some coffee, and… well, here you are, getting coffee!”

“Yeah… Wow…” Tamlin shook his head in amazement, then noticed the two girls watching them. “Oh, yeah. Lu. Let me introduce you to… um…” His mind went blank.

“I’m Gwyn, and this is my sister, Cat,” Gwyn offered kindly, and Cat silently saluted them with her coffee cup.

“Nice to meet you,” Lucien said, and introduced himself.

“Hi,” Cat said politely, but it was clear she had no interest in chatting. Tamlin didn’t blame her.

Gwyn wasn’t quite ready to leave, though, since she turned to Tamlin and said, “I don’t think I caught your name, actually.”

“Oh, it’s Tam. Tamlin.”

“Tamlin,” she repeated with a smile. “That’s a nice name. I think I heard it in a song once.”

Before Tamlin could say that’s where his mom had gotten it from, Lucien interrupted and gestured to the three of them.

“I’m confused… how exactly do you all know each other?”

“We just met, actually,” Tamlin said, shrugging shyly with the coffee cups. It wasn’t much of an explanation, but what else could he say that wouldn’t embarrass anyone?

Luckily Gwyn was there to fill what could have been an awkward silence. “We got the same coffee order,” she said simply, then turned the question around on him. “What about you? How long have you two known each other?”

“Oh, Tam and I go way back,” Lucien said, giving him a small, secret wink.

That wink made Tamlin feel brave. “Actually, we just started dating,” he told the girls, smiling shyly. “And, actually, he’s my boyfriend.”

Lucien’s eyebrows rose at this public admission, but before he could say anything, Cat nudged Gwyn with her elbow.

“I told you,” she muttered. “Cute. Gay.”

Lucien chuckled at this. “Uh, thanks. I think.”

Gwyn suddenly pointed at him. “You said your name was Lucien, right?” When he affirmed that he had, and that he was, she grinned and said, “You’re Eris’s brother, aren’t you.”

Lucien’s head jerked back in surprise. “Yeah! How’d you know?”

“He comes by the theater all the time,” Gwyn said brightly. As an aside to Cat, she explained, “He’s the one dating Nesta.”

“Oh.” Cat rolled her eyes. “Yeah. See? That just proves my point. If he’s cute, he’s either gay, or taken.”

Tamlin and Lucien let out awkward chuckles.

“Yeah, it’s usually the opposite for me,” Lucien said quietly, then turned his attention to Gwyn. “So, uh, how did you know Eris was dating Nesta?”

“We’re part of the same dance company,” Gwyn said brightly. “The Valkyries?”

“Oh,” Lucien said with an impressed nod. “Sure, I’ve heard of them.”

Tamlin hadn’t, so he let them talk and took another sip of his peppermint latte. Even though he wasn’t sure he would ever order it again, he was glad he’d tried it. Best of all, he didn’t feel any more or less gay for having done so. It was just a drink, after all.

“We’re performing Swan Lake this season,” Gwyn went on. “You two should come by and see us. It’s not as popular as The Nutcracker this time of year, but…”

“Sounds great,” Lucien said quickly, before Tamlin could say anything about the show they’d missed.

“Great!” Gwyn agreed. “Well, if you ever want to swing by, just tell the Ticket Office that Gwyn—and Cat—Berdara sent you,” she said, gesturing to her sister. “—and they’ll give you the Friends and Family discount.”

“Oh my god, please kill me now,” Cat muttered, covering her face with her free hand.

Lucien ignored her, or at least he pretended to. “Berdara,” he repeated, and Gwyn nodded, beaming. “I’ll remember that. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Cat tugged on Gwyn’s elbow before she could say more. “Come along, now, Gwyneth,” she said brightly, though her next sentence was said through gritted teeth. “Before I murder you.”

“What did I do?” Gwyn whined as her sister led her away, and Tamlin and Lucien chuckled.

“Well, that was an interesting conversation,” Lucien remarked, giving Tamlin an amused smile. “Let me guess, one of them tried to ask you out?”

Tamlin blushed. “How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.” Lucien brushed a stray hair from his face. “But honestly, I’m not surprised. What woman wouldn’t want to take a bite out of a studmuffin like you?” He winked.

Tamlin blushed harder and breathed a laugh, then his smile faded. You must be beating off the girls with a stick, the dean once told him. He sighed, and it clouded the air. Would the nightmare of Amarantha ever stop haunting him?

“Hey,” Lucien said, tilting his head to catch his eye. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Tamlin said, shaking off the wisps of memory like fallen snow on his hair. “Just tired. I didn’t get that much sleep last night, as you well know.”

A slow smile grew on Lucien’s face, and his warm brown eyes sparkled. “I’d apologize, but I’m not that sorry,” he teased, then nodded at the cups in Tamlin’s hands. “Besides, that’s what coffee’s for.”

“Oh, right.” He’d almost forgotten about his order.

As Tamlin took a sip, Lucien asked, “So, what did you get?”

Tamlin swallowed. “Peppermint lattes,” he said with a shy smile, then held out the other cup. “You want one?”

“Oh… Sure,” Lucien said, accepting it with some surprise. “Who was it for?”

“Jurian, but I’m not sure he’d like it. He takes his coffee blacker than black, so…”

“So does Alex,” Lucien agreed, then lifted the bright red cup for a sip. “Mmm. It’s good. I prefer pumpkin spice myself, but… It’s good.” He licked the foam from his lips and smiled. “Thanks.”

The sight warmed Tamlin more than the coffee had, and he smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

Lucien gestured to the coffee line. “Do you mind keeping me company while I get something for Alex? Or do you need to get back to work?”

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” Tamlin said, waving dismissively with his now free hand. “Work can wait.”

“What kind of errand were you running anyway?” Lucien asked as they joined the back of the line. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Errand?”

“Yeah. Jurian said you were running an errand for him, so…”

“Oh.” Tamlin blinked, and thought quickly. “Uh… Coffee run,” he lied, smiling nervously all the while.

“Huh, okay,” Lucien said with an understanding smile, then slipped his gloved hand in Tamlin’s. “Is this okay?”

Tamlin glanced down at their joined hands, then gently squeezed. “It’s more than okay.”

Lucien smiled, and squeezed back. “Okay. Good.”

As the line moved forward, Tamlin thought back on his conversation with Jurian. He still felt like he was Bi instead of Gay, but it didn’t really matter anymore. Even though those two girls were clearly interested, he hadn’t tried to pretend he had a girlfriend instead. It hadn't occurred to him to try. Lucien was his boyfriend, and that’s all there was to it. So what if he had missed out on his chance to take Gwyn’s picture? He and Jurian would have to come up with something else to distract Koschei, which made him wonder…

“When did you see Jurian, anyway?” Tamlin asked.

“Oh, about ten minutes ago,” Lucien said, lifting his cup for another sip. “Alex is talking with him now. I wanted to give them some privacy.”

“Because of his wife?”

Lucien winced. “Yeah.”

Tamlin sighed. “Was I wrong to suggest that? For him to see Jurian, I mean.”

“Of course not,” Lucien assured him. “It’s better that he finds out sooner rather than later, especially before they start having kids.”

“Yikes.”

“You’re telling me.”

They moved forward another place in line.

“So, what’s with the camera bag?” Lucien asked, nudging him gently.

“Birdwatching,” Tamlin said automatically.

Lucien gave him a bemused smile. “Birdwatching,” he repeated. “I didn’t know you were into that… Did you see any good ones?”

“Not really,” Tamlin said dismissively. “It’s mostly just sparrows, and finches this time of year…” He gestured with his cup. “Hence, the coffee.”

“Huh,” Lucien said, then he shrugged. “Maybe you can take me birdwatching in the spring,” he offered. “Then you can show me all the good ones.”

“If you like,” Tamlin remarked, surprised. “It’s really not that interesting.”

Lucien’s head jerked back. “Then why do it?”

Realizing he had been caught in a lie, Tamlin’s face flushed. “I do it for Jurian’s sake,” he said quickly. “He’s the one with the checklist, and I’m the one with the camera, so…”

“Oh.” Lucien nodded thoughtfully, then he smiled. “We’ll find something to do that we both like, then.”

“Sure,” Tamlin agreed, relieved.

After Lucien had ordered two black coffees—for Alex and Jurian, he said—they turned back for the office. With their hands full, they couldn’t hold onto each other anymore, but they did match each other’s leisurely stride as they strolled through the park.

“I’m really glad I got to see you,” Lucien said, smiling warmly. “You were in such a hurry this morning, I didn’t get the chance to give you a proper goodbye.”

Tamlin couldn’t help his blush. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. It worked out better this way. Alex and Jurian get their time to talk, and now so do we.”

“Yeah,” Tamlin murmured, then took a deep breath. “So, where are you going after this? Back to work?”

“Nah,” Lucien said dismissively. “I’m taking the day off. Alex and I are going to lunch, though. I’m taking him to Annie’s, actually. You want to come along?”

“Oh.” Tamlin blinked in surprise. “I, uh, sure. I have to clear it with Jurian first, but…”

“There you are,” an annoyed voice said.

Tamlin and Lucien looked up to see Alex standing with Jurian in the parking lot.

Alex pushed himself away from the expensive-looking car he’d been leaning against. “I thought you got abducted, or something,” he told Lucien chidingly.

Lucien only rolled his eyes. “Will you relax,” he drawled, then held out the extra coffee cup. “I got you a black, two sugars.”

“Oh… Thanks,” Alex muttered, and begrudgingly accepted the peace offering.

Tamlin broke the awkward silence by offering Jurian the extra coffee he’d been carrying. “Dark roast,” he said. “No sugar.”

“Thanks, Tam,” Jurian said, accepting it gratefully. He’d been standing with Alex in his shirt sleeves; he probably hadn’t anticipated having to wait outside this long.

Not wanting to make the situation more awkward by apologizing, Tamlin took another sip. As did they all.

“So,” Jurian announced loudly, when they’d all drunk. “Tam. We have a new client. Who I’m sure you’ve already met.”

“Yeah,” Tam said, nodding at Alex. “Hi, again.”

“Hey,” Alex murmured, then sighed. “Look. I’m sorry…”

Tamlin waved him off. “No, it’s, uh… It’s okay… I didn’t realize you were out here waiting, so…”

“That was my fault, anyway,” Lucien interjected. “I ran into Tam across the street, and we got to talking…”

“Yeah,” Alex said quietly, then sighed again. “Well, Lucien and I should probably get going, so…” He stuck out his hand to Jurian, who shook it. “Thanks, again.”

“Sure,” Jurian said kindly. “I’ll be in touch.”

Alex nodded, then stuffed his hand into his pocket. “Keys.”

“Oh, right,” Lucien said quickly, and shoved his hand inside his own coat pocket.

While he dug, Alex turned his attention to Tamlin next. “In case I don’t see you for a while, good luck… with everything. I hope you get the help you need.”

Tamlin’s head jerked back in surprise. “Help?” he repeated. “Why would I need help?”

“Ah-ha-ha,” Lucien said quickly, and shoved the found keys at his brother. “Here you go,” he said in a sing-song voice that sounded a lot like Shut up now.

Alex fumbled with the keys and his coffee. “Hey—What? What are you doing?”

“Lunch. Car. Now,” Lucien said quickly, trying to herd him toward the driver’s side door.

Alex stepped back and looked at him askance, however. “You didn’t tell him, did you.”

“Tell me what?” Tamlin asked, looking between them.

Even though Lucien tried to shush him, Alex said, “About Eris? Taking on your case?”

Tamlin’s bemused smile faded. “What case?” he asked, looking to Lucien.

His boyfriend grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fucking fuck,” he muttered, then took a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to say anything until I was sure…”

“Sure?” Tamlin echoed. “About what? What is he talking about?” His heart started to sink without quite knowing why.

Lucien took a moment to swallow. “Eris is a lawyer, you know? One of the best. Anyway, I… I sort of asked him to look into what happened to you… You know, seven years ago.”

Tamlin fell back a step, stunned. “You told him?”

Lucien spread his hands wide, at least, the hand that wasn’t holding his coffee. “I just wanted to know if there was a way for you to get your life back… To win a-a settlement, or something—”

“A settlement?” Tamlin echoed. His voice sounded hollow and far away. “You mean going to court? Against that witch? Are you fucking serious?”

Lucien flinched and turned pale. “Tam, I just wanted to help—”

“No. No,” Tamlin said, backing away. The awful memories came back in a rush. “I am not going through that again. You can’t make me.”

“Tam—”

Jurian stepped in. “I think you need to leave,” he told Lucien coolly. When he got like this, it was easy to imagine him in an official uniform and wielding a baton.

Lucien faltered, and tried to skirt around him to catch Tamlin’s eye. “But… But I—”

“Now.”

“Come on, Lu,” Alex said quietly. “We should go.”

Tamlin couldn’t look at them. Any of them. The pancakes he had made that morning threatened to make a reappearance, and he pressed a hand to his mouth.

Lucien sounded broken. “Tam, I’m… I’m so sorry…”

Jurian remained unmoved, however. “If he wants to talk, he’ll call you,” he said firmly, then over his shoulder, he told Tamlin quietly, “I’ll meet you inside.”

Tamlin managed a nod, then opened the door to the building without looking back. He made it just inside the lobby before he started shaking.

Not a minute later, Jurian followed, sans coffee cup, and pulled Tamlin into his arms and let him break down and cry like the frightened child he was.

* * *

“Look, I said I was sorry.”

Lucien glared out the passenger window as hot tears continued to roll down his cheeks. “That doesn’t bring back my boyfriend now, does it?” he said tightly.

Alex sighed as he made a turn down a residential lane. “I didn’t know you hadn’t told him,” he said sorrowfully. “I didn’t know he’d take it so hard. Besides, you were just trying to help—”

Lucien scoffed. “Obviously it didn’t work,” he muttered, and sniffed as he swiped at his wet cheeks. “And now I’m never going to see him again.”

“You don’t know that,” Alex chided. “Give it time, I’m sure he’ll come around—”

“Yeah, in seven more years,” Lucien said mournfully, watching a line of festively decorated houses roll by. “We were going to spend Christmas together.” His chin began to quiver. “And New Year’s.”

“Come on, Lu,” Alex whined. “Don’t do this. You’re supposed to be the one comforting me, remember? I might be getting a divorce. You’re not even married.”

Lucien buried his face in his hands.

“Yet,” Alex added hastily. “You’re not married yet. You never know. This might be a funny story you tell at your wedding someday.”

“Fat chance of that,” Lucien muttered, but he lowered his hands and managed a sniff. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“Mom’s house, remember?”

Lucien groaned.

“Oh, no. Don’t give me that,” Alex warned, turning onto a familiar street. “You’re the one who kept suggesting I come here,” he said, then pulled into the driveway of an old-fashioned, two-story house. “Now, we’re here.”

“You could have warned me,” Lucien complained. “I thought we were going to lunch or something first.”

Alex sighed and turned off the car. “I didn’t think you’d be hungry.”

As his brother dug his duffel bag out of the trunk, Lucien stood back and left the shopping bags where they were. Violin strings and rosin. For Tamlin.

Fresh tears filled his eyes, and he forced himself to look away. Would he ever be able to give them to him? Would Tamlin even accept them? Or would he have to live with the fact that he’d broken Tamlin’s trust in him forever?

“Alex?” Their mother’s voice drifted toward them from the covered porch. “What a surprise! What are you doing here?”

Alex smiled at her and closed the trunk. “Hey, Ma,” he called back. “I thought it was about time we came to visit.”

She gasped audibly at the sight of both of them. “Oh, Lucien, my baby!” she called out happily, then trotted down the steps to meet them.

The former Mrs. Vanserra was a pleasantly plump woman with long auburn hair she wore in a chignon. When she wrapped her arms around her two boys, she smelled like cinnamon, chestnuts, and warm apple pie.

“Mm, it’s so good to see you,” she gushed, giving them both a squeeze. As she pulled away, she looked between the two of them. “Where’s, um, Ianthe?” she asked politely.

Their mother didn’t like Alex’s wife any more than the rest of them, but she at least tried to make an effort.

“It’s a long story,” Alex said with a grim smile.

“Oh,” she said, then noticed the bag in his hand. “Oh, I see,” she said with a wince, then turned to Lucien. “How about you, sweetheart? Are you…?” She trailed off when she noticed Lucien’s red eyes, and tear-stained cheeks. “Oh, dear.”

Lucien didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d found a boyfriend and lost him all in the same week, but his mother probably already knew that. She knew a lot of things.

“Well, come inside, both of you,” she said brightly, giving her sweatered arms a brisk rub. “I just made some gingerbread cookies.”

As she turned her back to lead them into the house, Lucien gave Alex a knowing look. “Told you,” he mouthed.

Alex gave him a resigned shrug, then followed after their mother, and Lucien shoved his hands inside his coat pockets and trailed along behind.

His childhood home looked and smelled much the way it had when he was growing up, like warm bread and furniture polish. It wasn’t exactly the same, of course, since it had been sold the same year his grandfather died, when Lucien was about eight years old. The Autumn Corporation had been willed and given to the former owner’s three daughters, but his only son-in-law was named the new owner and CEO: Beron Vanserra.

The Vanserra family had led a comfortable life before, but suddenly the modest, red-brick home was too small for such a wealthy business executive, so Beron sold the house and moved them all into the heart of the city.

Lucien had really liked it at first. He finally had his own room, they went to plays and the ballet, and he could get whatever he wanted for Christmas and birthdays… But his mother no longer sang as much, and she baked—and ate—a lot more than she used to. Looking back on it, Lucien knew that his father blamed her weight gain as the reason he started sleeping around, but that wasn’t really true. Beron liked being important. He liked the attention.

Just not the sort of attention having a gay son gave him.

And Lucien despised him for it.

It wasn’t until years later, when all the boys were grown, that Beron’s ego was finally taken down a peg. Once Eris had his law degree, he helped their mother get a legal separation from her husband, and a proper settlement besides. He helped her buy back the house that she had so dearly loved. He had helped her get her name back. She was no longer the nameless wife of the CEO, Mrs. Beron Vanserra; she was once again Laura Autumn, baker extraordinaire, and mother of seven, in that order. She was finally herself again.

Lucien would always be grateful to Eris for taking that kind of risk. Beron nearly fired him when he found out, but he reconsidered once he realized that Eris could end up working for his competition. So he kept Eris close. He kept all of his boys close, even Lucien. Not in a familial way, of course, but at least the job paid well. And it came with a nice expense account… When he was allowed to use it, anyway.

While Alex took his bag into the living room, their mother bustled around the kitchen. The radio was playing a soft version of Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire. The still-hot oven filled the tiled kitchen with warmth and the smell of cinnamon. Rows of gingerbread cookies were moved from cooling racks and onto decorative platters for icing later.

Watching her, Lucien felt like a little kid again. After a long day of school, he’d come home out of the cold and kick off his shoes and drop off his backpack by the door, then clamber up onto the stool and let his socked feet dangle while his mom puttered around the kitchen. She would listen to him complain about math or how the mean kids had made fun of his lisp again, then she’d let him lick the stirring spoon, or give him a fresh cookie with a glass of milk to help him feel all better. It always helped.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the sort of problem that even homemade cookies could solve.

He let out a sigh and shrugged out of his coat, then draped it over the back of the barstool before sitting down at the counter. Just like he used to do when he was little, he hunched over and rested his chin on his fists. “Hey, Mom?”

“Yes, hon?”

Lucien sighed again. “Have you ever made a huge mistake?”

She smiled to herself as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Oh, lots of times.”

He quirked his mouth to one side. “Did you ever make one so big it ruined your whole life?”

Her warm brown eyes twinkled with amusement as she met his gaze. “Nothing that dramatic, I assure you.”

“What did you do?”

Her smile faded and grew thoughtful. “Well, I married a man far too old for me, but… I was eighteen, I was in love, and I thought I knew better.” She sighed as she untied her apron strings and went on, “Now, I do know better, but the knowledge came with more wrinkles and more stretch marks than I’d care to admit.” She pointed at Lucien as she went to hang up her apron on its wooden peg. “But I want you to know that I don’t regret having a single one of you boys… I love you all to bits, even if you do turn my hair gray sometimes.”

Lucien huffed a laugh, even though it hurt a little. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way,” she said, giving him the same smirk that he and his brothers shared. She gestured to his own auburn strands. “You’ll get your own gray hairs soon enough. I can promise you that.”

Lucien wrinkled his nose and sniffed. “Probably a lot sooner than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

Alex walked into the kitchen, dusting off his hands. “Hey, Ma,” he said. “Did you get rid of the old couch?”

“Yes, I decided a loveseat was a better fit for the space.”

Alex looked truly taken aback. “When was this?”

“Oh, about three months ago,” she mused, moving some dirty dishes to the sink. “If you came to visit more often, I’m sure you would have noticed.”

Lucien and Alex exchanged a guilty wince. It had been a while.

At their silence, their mother quirked her mouth to one side and placed a hand on her hip. Tapping her elegant fingernails against the countertop, she said, “All right. Who’s first.”

They startled.

“First for what?”

“What do you mean?”

She arched an eyebrow. “I’m lucky if I see one of you boys once a month, and now two of you are here on the same day?” She gestured between them. “There is something going on, and you are going to tell me. Now. Who’s first?”

Lucien took a deep breath, but Alex spoke first.

“I’ll go.”

“No, I’ll go,” Lucien insisted. “It won’t really make sense unless I start from the beginning.”

“How far back are we talking?”

Lucien swallowed. “About seven years.”

* * *

Tamlin glanced up from his seat at the desk as Jurian walked through the office door, bearing a takeout bag with Annie’s logo on it.

“Hey,” Jurian said kindly, setting it on the one clean spot on the desk. “I’ve got Corned Beef on Rye, and Annie’s famous apple pie,” he offered, shrugging off his coat. “Oh, and Alis said to tell you Hello.”

Tamlin swallowed, but he still had no appetite. “Thanks,” he said quietly, then returned his attention to the piles of papers he’d been sorting. He’d needed to file them for a while now, and now was the perfect time to take his mind off of… well, everything else.

Jurian sighed, then closed the door to hang up his coat. “So, any calls?”

“No.”

“Any calls from him?”

Tamlin shook his head this time. “No.”

Jurian considered this, then gently lowered himself into the empty seat across the desk. “You want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

“Not really.”

“Okay,” Jurian said, sitting back in his chair. He took a deep breath and twiddled his thumbs. “What about that assignment I gave you before. Any luck?”

Tamlin sighed, and ran his thumb over the papers’ stapled edge. “I couldn’t do it,” he said quietly. “There was someone there, in the park, who looked like Vassa, and I couldn’t do it.”

Jurian lowered the chair to the floor. “There’s no shame in that,” he said gently. He seemed to be considering his words carefully. “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t be doing this, anymore.”

That got Tamlin’s attention. “What do you mean?”

Jurian took a deep breath. “I made some calls today,” he said slowly. “There’s a Scythian embassy in the northeast part of the country. It’s going to take some time, but… the guy I spoke to on the phone, he’s interested in working with us… He wants to know more about Mr. Koschei.”

Tamlin’s brows rose in shock. “What about Vassa?”

Jurian shrugged. “Any information we can give him, he’ll take, but I don’t think we have to give Koschei anything else.”

Tamlin let out a sudden breath. It was the best news he’d heard all day. “So we’re free? Just like that?”

Jurian chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said wryly, “but essentially, yeah.”

“No photos?”

“No headshots. No nothing,” Jurian finished, smiling tightly. He shrugged again. “I thought you could use some good news, after today.”

Tamlin’s smile faded. “Yeah,” he murmured, and dropped his gaze. “Thanks.”

“Of course, this means we won’t be getting a new couch,” Jurian remarked. “So, if you’re okay with that���”

Tamlin’s heart twinged, as did his neck. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Jurian sighed and shook his head. “You don’t have to lie, you know. You can say it fucking sucks, because it does. It really does.”

Tamlin breathed a laugh, but it was a sad laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

* * *

The kitchen was almost peaceful as Lucien sat at the table with his mother and his brother, drinking hot tea and nibbling on fresh gingerbread as they looked out at the snowy backyard. Twittering birds flitted from birdfeeder to birdfeeder, fattening themselves up on nuts and seeds before perching on the same snow-covered swingset that he and his six brothers had played on all those years ago. It would have made the perfect Christmas card… if Lucien had not just finished telling his mother the story of what had happened to Tamlin all those years ago.

Crack.

Lucien winced as yet another walnut shell shattered under his mother’s forceful nutcracking.

Shells littered the table like shrapnel, but she didn’t seem to notice as she dropped the kernel into a separate bowl and reached for yet another walnut.

“If that devil woman ever dared to lay a finger on one of my babies—” She put the nut between the jaws of her metal pliers. Crack. “—She’d be marking the days on her jail cell wall with chalk held between her toes.”

“Ma,” Alex said cautiously from the other end of the table. “Don’t get so worked up. You’ll give yourself a heart attack, or—or arthritis, or something.”

She glared and reached for another nut. “Don’t worry. I’m perfectly fine.” Crack.

Alex sighed and shook his head, and Lucien sighed, too.

As he crumbled gingerbread crumbs between his fingers, he asked her, “So you don’t think I was wrong to ask Eris for help?”

Crack.

Their mother huffed. “No,” she said quietly, reaching for yet another nut. “But, really, you shouldn’t have kept it a secret from your boyfriend. If you had told him what you wanted to do from the beginning, he might have been upset, but I think he would have come around. Eventually.” Crack.

Lucien leaned forward. “See, that’s what I wanted to do, but if Eris didn’t think he had a case, I didn’t want to risk upsetting him.” He glared at his brother. “Then Alex had to go and open his big fat mouth.”

“Hey!” Alex squawked. “Don’t pin this on me,” he said, pointing. “You’re the one who stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.”

“Me? You’re the one who kept pestering me with so many questions.”

“That’s because you never tell me anything.”

“For good reason!”

“Boys,” their mother warned.

The two of them sat back andcrossed their arms and mumbled an apology.

“Sorry, Ma.”

“Sorry.”

Their mother drew a deep breath, then set the nutcracker aside. As she wiped off her hands with a clean dishtowel, she declared, “It was an unfortunate accident. What’s done is done. The only thing you can do now is… well, wait for him to come around.”

Lucien sighed again, and shoved his plate aside to slump forward and rest his folded arms on the table. “What if he doesn’t? What if I never see him again?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile and rubbed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby. But that’s up to him.”

“It could be worse,” Alex offered. “He could be cheating on you and giving you the silent treatment at the same time.”

“Is that what happened to you, sweetheart?” their mother asked gently.

“Yeah,” Alex mumbled, glumly swirling his mug of tea. “Well, maybe. I know Ianthe is pissed at—sorry, Ma—I mean, mad about me staying late at the office, but that’s not my fault. Dad’s been hounding me over the numbers for this stupid audit.”

“Oh, has that started already?”

“Not yet, but—” Alex sat up. “Wait. How do you know about the audit?”

“Because I called and asked someone to look into it.”

Alex gawked at her. “You mean you called the press?”

“They weren’t my first call,” she remarked, reaching for her tea, “but, yes, I did.”

“You, wha—Were you going to tell us this?”

She smiled sweetly. “If I did that, then that would ruin all the fun, now, wouldn’t it.”

“Fun?” Alex echoed.

“Mm-hmm,” she said, still smiling, and took a sip of tea.

Lucien sat up, stunned. “Why an audit? Why now?” he asked her.

She rested her elbows on the table as she cradled her mug, looking thoughtful. “That’s a good question,” she mused. “I suppose I decided to do it this way when your father’s picture appeared in the paper last month. You know, at the city’s annual charity dinner?”

“Sure,” Alex said, but he looked as confused as Lucien felt.

“I didn’t go,” Lucien said with a shrug.

“Neither did I, but do you know how much your father paid for a plate at this particular dinner?”

“No.”

“But I can guess,” Alex offered.

She didn’t give him the chance. “It was more than he gives me in a month.”

Lucien’s mouth fell open. “What?!”

“No way,” Alex declared, leaning forward. “I’ve seen the books. You should have gotten a lot more than that…”

She smiled a tight smile. “I know.”

Lucien and Alex exchanged worried glances.

When neither of them spoke, she assured them, “Don’t worry. I have plenty of savings. I’m perfectly all right.” She shifted in her seat, then went on, “But, per the terms of our separation agreement, Beron agreed to pay me a generous monthly stipend. He would never agree to divorce me, because my father wrote that into his will. If Beron left me, for any reason, he would get nothing. Unfortunately, the same was true for me.”

She smiled sadly and ran a thumb over the handle of her mug. “My father wanted me and my sisters to have some security,” she said softly. “After my mother died, he was never the same. He knew I was making a mistake by choosing Beron, but… he wanted me to be happy. And at the time, I was.”

She sighed and shook her head, then continued, “I first noticed my stipend decreasing this past summer. Beron said sales were down, and I chose to believe him. Every company has its ups and downs. I know that. Besides, Eris made sure I was comfortable.” She paused to take another sip. “But then, last month, my stipend was almost half of what it was. The holidays are the busy season. They always have been,” she said firmly, then smiled a cool, calculating smile. “So, if sales are truly down, then an audit is the least of Beron’s worries, wouldn’t you say?”

Lucien huffed an amazed laugh. “Damn,” he said appreciatively, then winced. “Ooh, sorry Mom.”

She chuckled as she lifted her mug. “That’s all right, baby. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Alex rested his chin in his hand. He suddenly looked very tired. “I wish you had told me,” he complained. “Then maybe Ianthe wouldn’t be giving me such a hard time right now.”

Their mother gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But you can always call her. Provided that she doesn’t tell Beron about the audit. And I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you both to keep this a secret from your father, too.”

“I thought secrets were a bad thing,” Lucien pointed out, even though he had no intention of telling his father anything.

She gave him a wincing smile. “I know. But I just don’t want to give Beron the chance to retaliate. He would burn the Autumn Corporation to the ground before giving up control, especially to one of you boys.”

“Can we tell Eris, at least?”

“I’ll tell him myself,” she promised. “But only after the audit starts. Then Beron will have no reason to suspect he was involved.”

Lucien sat up with a start. “Hey, Mom, did you ever do any research, or hire a private investigator before you got started, or…?”

She looked surprised, but shook her head. “No. This was all my idea. That’s why I don’t want your father to know.”

“So, Tamlin wasn’t involved at all?”

“Did you think he was?”

Lucien felt a relieved smile grow on his face. “Eris thought he might be, because he works for a private eye, but…” He breathed a laugh. “He’s not, is he?”

She shook her head. “Not as far as I’m concerned.”

Lucien grinned, then pushed himself away from the table. “I need to go see him. Can I tell Tam about the audit? I promise he won’t tell—”

“Lucien.”

He paused at his mother’s firm tone.

She took a deep breath. “Does your boyfriend know that you suspected him of being involved?”

His hopeful smile faded. “No.”

She gave him a sad smile in turn. “Then you shouldn’t tell him. He needs time to be alone. Just give him that. Can you do that, for me?”

Lucien sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“I know this is hard,” she said gently, “but it’s for the best.”

She pushed herself away from the table to take the bowl of nuts over to the counter. As she began cleaning up, she offered, “Why don’t you stay for dinner? I have some pasta in the fridge, or there’sthat charming little pizzeria we used to go to when you were little. How does that sound? I’m sure they still deliver.”

He managed a smile. “Sure. Thanks, Mom,” he said quietly.

The pizza was as good as he remembered, but he still didn’t have much of an appetite. When dinner was over, he asked Alex to take him back to his apartment. He agreed without arguing, for once.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right by yourself?” his mother asked as he and Alex put on their coats. “You’re welcome to spend the night, you know.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lucien assured her, buttoning up his coat. “I’d rather sleep in my own bed, anyway. It’s been a long day.”

She sighed. “I understand,” she said kindly, and rubbed his arm. “Call me when you hear something, all right?” When he said he would, she pressed a bag of cookies into his hand. “And here’s something for when you get home.”

He chuckled, and accepted the cookies, and his mother’s hug. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, bending his head to kiss her cheek.

Snow was just starting to fall when Alex’s car pulled up under the awning of Lucien’s apartment. Alex kept the car running while Lucien retrieved his bags from the trunk. Before he could go inside, though, Alex rolled down the passenger side window and called him over.

“Hey, Lu?”

Lucien trudged over and leaned in. “Yeah?”

Alex gave him a tight smile. “You take care of yourself, okay?”

Lucien nodded, even though his heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, okay. Be safe out there.”

“I will.” Alex tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. “Listen. I’m sorry again, about your boyfriend…”

Lucien shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Mom’s right. I just need to wait it out.”

Alex sighed. “Yeah. Well, if you ever need to talk…”

“I’ll let you know,” Lucien agreed, nodding. “See you at work tomorrow?”

Alex sucked in a sharp breath and winced. “Probably not. I think I need to avoid Dad for a little while. You know how shit I am at keeping secrets.”

Lucien snorted. “Yeah. I noticed.”

Alex smirked. “Hey, at least I wasn’t the one who told you Santa Claus wasn’t real.”

“Wow. Anything else you want to say to ruin my day?”

Alex chuckled and made to put the car into gear. “See ya, Lulu.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Alex was still laughing when he rolled up his window and drove off into the snowy twilight.

Lucien shook his head and smiled, but it had faded by the time he made it up to his floor. It was a lonely walk back to his apartment, and it was going to be even lonelier when he went inside. As he unlocked the door, he thought about having a glass of wine, and maybe watching a movie to unwind.

As he remembered the movie he and Tamlin had ‘watched’ the night before, he decided to havetwo glasses of wine. He’d have one hell of a hangover the next day, but at least it would give him an excuse to call off work. Then he wouldn’t have to face Eris, or their father… or the memories.

He sighed as he dropped his keys onto the little table by the door, then set his bags underneath. As he straightened to unbutton his coat, he paused. He hadn’t had any wine yet, so why was he seeing double? There were two sets of keys on the table, and the fireplace was lit, which could only mean…

“Hey, Lu.”

He gasped, and his heart leapt to his throat as Tamlin pushed himself out of one the easy chairs in front of the fire.

Tamlin managed a tight smile as he slowly wrung his hands. “Can we talk?”

[cipher-the-sidhe]

I don’t think I can adequately put into words the grief of watching the fight of three generations- 50 years of struggle and prayers- for our beloved sea-cousin’s return home crash and burn only feet from the finish line.

She was almost here. She was nearly home. She could have died in the waters of her ancestors, where her mother swims and her cousins are born and live and die. 50 years of fighting to bring her back and this time, just this once, we thought we’d won. Tokitae was coming back to us, where she belonged.

And the thing is, I never expected that for Tillikum. Or for Kasatka, or Corky, or Kiska, or for any of the others really. But Toki? The end was in sight and a lifetime of prayers built up in me and I positively burned with hope. I wanted so so so badly for her to make it back home, no matter how short it would be for her after. I wanted so so so badly for her not to die in that awful place.

Tokitae, I am so sorry for how we failed you. I am sorry for how much we’ve failed in this regard overall…

Every time I touch the shores of the Salish Sea I will whisper your name, so your ancestral waters remember you. Tomorrow night I will wade into the cold waters of the cove and run my fingers through the bioluminescence and I will tell the currents that you have gone ahead of us to the happy hunting grounds, where you are free and can grow fat with plenty of salmon. You’ll be with the matriarchs who have gone before; tell Polaris that I still think of her all the time, and she inspires me to keep fighting. I will tell the currents to carry that message to your mother, Ocean Sun, so that she knows you’ll be waiting for her.

Goodbye Tokitae. May the Mother welcome you home.

[girlvinland]

OC-tober Day 14 is Inspiration!

I’m going to drop some templates I used here for Covrin and Mercurio quite some time ago, but also elaborate more on them and other characters under a read more.

I’m going to be honest, I can’t find where this template originated from/who made it, so if you know, please let me know so I can give credit!

Anyway, more information under the cut! All of these are specifically for my Dark Souls OCs since that's been my main focus for quite a while now lol

Covrin - He was actually created for a short multi-person server RP and was developed more in a years-long RP. At the time, I didn't have any DS OCs, but when I thought about what kind of character I wanted to make, my first thought was a Morne knight because I loved Eygon's armor and think the characters from Carim are interesting. But rather than have him be like...the typical Carim asshole, I thought it would be nice to have a character from there who was kind and somewhat naive. Unfortunately things didn't stay that way after the accidental death of his maiden, as he ends up becoming pretty traumatized from the experience. But Cov is still Cov, it just takes him a while to return to himself.

Avalea - Covrin's maiden, she was always supposed to be a "caged bird" type of character, someone whose life essentially belonged to others, never having a say in what happened to her. She does gain awareness of this, and once she and Cov leave Carim, she rebels a little bit, trading her maiden's robes for clothing she prefers, running around and getting dirty, and eventually developing feelings for her knight. Her canon story ends in death, definitely a tragedy rather than a feel-good story.

Mercurio - Started as an NPC merchant-type character in a long-term RP, but was developed into a full character later on. I wanted a character who relied more on magic and charisma than brute strength, plus the merchant archetype is fun, thus Mercurio was born. They were inspired by a mix of characters I really love in other media + a friend's HCs around Oolacile. They have also been a way to explore ideas around gender exploration and experimentation. Merc is my favorite DS OC that I have.

Percival - Another Morne knight because I couldn't help myself lol. He was actually inspired by one of my best friends growing up in multiple ways (specifically some aspects of physical appearance and personality). Outside of that, I thought a lot about how Carim seems to be a very heteronormative place, so I wondered how LGBTQ+ people might be treated there and what their experiences would be, esp in the case of a gay knight who has a lifetime responsibility to a maiden.

Samson - In keeping with the Carim theme, I thought having a pardoner would be fun and that such a character could be an interesting potential love interest for Perci. Would they need to keep things secret? How would they go about it? I actually got really inspired by a lot of queer history and symbolism when making Sam, especially wrt flower language and Polari. Another thing that has inspired me a lot with him is the more religious/political stuff in Carim regarding Velka, the Way of White, Caitha, etc. I thought it would be cool to investigate the idea of a character who exists in a role that essentially becomes obsolete over time.

Cassandra - Percival's maiden, and someone I wanted to sort of be Avalea's opposite. She's abrasive and selfish, and doesn't really fit into the stereotype of a docile maiden. Honestly, I kind of spread traits about myself through my OCs, and she wasn't an exception. She's one of the characters that's been harder for me to develop sometimes because I see my own negative traits in her. However, she's reflective, and she changes over time. She's an archivist, and that part was actually inspired by some of my own work experience lol

Dominic - Since Perci and Sam had a less than ideal experience being queer in Carim, I wanted a character who embodied more of the joy of it. I thought Astora would be a good place for that, and honestly a lot of his traits came from the way I tend to think about Astora in general- sunny and optimistic. I feel like Dom had a pretty good week to himself, so stopping here for him!

[wondrouswendy]

My Control 2 Wishlist

I've had this on my mind the last few weeks after seeing Alan Wake 2 and what Remedy's really capable of when they push the limits of genre and storytelling. No one asked for this list, but I thought it would be fun to divulge some of my thoughts on the matter.

More Music

This list would be remiss if I didn't say I wanted a real musical number for Control. I want singing. I want choreography. Drama. Poets of the Fall jamming out even more. Maybe more of Ahti's dulcet singing voice. Maybe even Darling's too? A duet?

I want even more variety with the genres, too. Give us a love ballad. Give us more storytelling through music.

2. A Mixture of Enemies

I want Jesse to fight more monsters than just the Hiss. I want her to fight paracriminals, especially.

3. More Altered Items and OOPs

Mostly the latter. I would love to hear more about the OOPs Northmoor bound and used.

4. More Inter-Departmental Drama

I want to hear what people think about Jesse as Director following the Hiss invasion. Do people still feel as inspired by her?

5. A LITTLE More Tie-Ins with Alan Wake

I don't want this to swing too hard in the Alan Wake pendulum, but I think there's so many questions regarding the world at large through Alan Wake's story, I want to see some plot threads get tied up through Control.

I still want the story to focus on the Bureau and its agents, but I think it's fine to bring in characters from AW2, namely Anderson and Casey. I also want to know how the Oceanview ties into everything.

6. More Kiran Estevez, and an Update on the Bureau at Large

What it says on the tin. Agent Estevez was a badass. Give us more. Also tell us about her ex-wife and about her rebound relationship she definitely had (or have her get back with her wife).

What happened to the Bureau over the last few years? What's going on? We need an update.

7. More Darling, More Trench

This wouldn't be a wishlist without including them. I'm biased. I love them so much your honor and I want Trench to come back, either as a mentor or in the flesh because why not? Give us a chance to even play as either of these characters for a spell.

8. More Uh, Horniness?

Look, I'm not talking about outright explicit sexual content. But let's be honest. Alan Wake 2 was a bit more horny than it had any right to be. Explain yourself, Sam Lake. Explain yourself, Remedy. Keep bringing hot people doing hot things, especially with the use of FMV. Your fans will love it.

8. The Actual Number 8: More Slice of Life

What I'm genuinely alluding to, all joking aside, is more slice of life interjected into the Bureau's dynamics. More everyday banter. Maybe I just want to see people flirt with Jesse a little. Maybe some gentle nudging from Polaris for Jesse to let down her hair a little.

9. A Follow-Up With Dylan

I think for Jesse's character development, it will be important to address Dylan and what's his status. By extension, I would love to hear more about his potential connection to Mr. Door.

10. More FMV

Goes without saying, but this should become Remedy's signature cherry on top with their games. They have perfected the style and I hope to see more of it.

[theconsciouscrow]

A Rant Consideration about Mr. Scratch and his origins (Alan Wake 2 spoilers):

I've been seeing a lot of posts on various social media about who/what Mr. Scratch is. Before AW2 i've visited the youtube channel "Gaming University", which i think it's the most complete source of information about all things Remedy related (i'll put the url to his channel in the comments), and it's been eye opening.

SO first things first, let's make something clear: Alan Wake is about psychology. Ok? Ok.

Remedy uses psychology themes through all the remedyverse. Collective Unconscious? Psychology. Archetypes? Psychology. The Hiss? Polaris? Well, not exactly psychology, but it comes from it.

Sam Lake has been using tropes and themes inspired from a especific psychoanalyst named Carl Jung (the man below). The Jungian philosophy perceives the human mind as the modeler of the world, and not just it's spectator. To Jung, inside the mind we all have a set of actors, who regulate our behavior and at the same time makes us remember (on a conscious or unconscious state) of who we really are.

One of these actors is called the "Shadow". The shadow represents our repressed desires, the corruption, the will to violence, etc. The shadow is a key factor to the process of self knowledge: the ascension in the spiral (weee) of consciousness, and is natural to all humans.

When Alan comes back to talk to Agent Estevez after the Scratch boss fight, she asks "Isn't the shadow possessing you anymore?".

The FBC files mentions the shadow multiple times. Ilmo Koskela states through the game that everyone who leaves the Dark Place "gets out unwell". The Dark Place is a place of creation indeed, but its also a realm of the mind: it feed of memories, messes with emotions, causes despersonalization, psychosis, etc.

Reuniting all that information, we can safely assume that:

Mr. Scratch is the Shadow of Alan Wake given boost and agency by the Dark Place: they ARE NOT separate entities.

It is Alan, his corrupted desire to be the best writer, to feel wanted and loved, through all means necessary. Scratch is not exactly obsessed WITH Alan, he's obsessed in giving Alan what he wants in the most fucked up part of his mind.

And let's be honest: having an eldritch variant of you throwing at your face what you really are - beyond all morality and social rules - through its actions is pretty disturbing, traumatizing even. It's natural that Alan understands Scratch as his worst enemy, he still doesn't recognizes it as a part of himself.

Saga has her shadow messed up as well, when she gets to the DP, which was also boosted by the darkness. Her shadow humiliates her as a mother, Casey's partner, and a detective, representing her worst fears. "Seems like i'm my own worst enemy.", she states.

The shadow traps her inside her mind place, since the process of giving conscious to a unconscious part of your mind is so unnatural, that they both cannot be separated. A human mind cannot survive without it's shadow.

Also, the way she'd dealt with her situation is really admiring - Saga proved to be a much more self-conscious and stable person than Alan, who stayed 13 years suffering by the hands of Scratch.

Want more proof that Scratch is a shadow? Look at his photo alongside Saga's shadow in the "Profiling" desk:

Everyone deals with their shadow on their own way

When Casey get's "possessed by Scratch", i don't think that's exactly what's happening: the Dark Presence enters Casey's mind, messing up with his Shadow, boosting his most agressive and corrupt parts of it, and since everyone is in Scratch's Story, Casey's Shadow will do what the Story mandates (world domination).

So TL;DR, Mr Scratch and Alan are the same person. The DP boosts Mr Scratch to a point where he/it becomes another personality, who takes hold of Alan's body to do it's biding. Same thing happens to everyone who gets "touched" by the darkness. Alan kinda understands this at the end of the game, when he shouts "Come on MF, COME HOME!!"

Now, like Jung said, the Shadow has the objective of reminding us who we really are deep down, and as much traumatizing that can be, is by embracing our flaws and accepting our Jungian Shadow, that we reach a state of mind the psychoanalyst calls the "Self": a perfect state of auto consciousness and knowledge, the top of the mountain in the ascension of the spiral.

Let's just hope that Alan is getting close to it.

[polariscroquis]

Polaris Croquis Commissions | Open!

This is my official commission post! I'll update things here until I feel the need to re-do the post (add new artworks, change prices, policies, etc.)

Right now, I'm opening 3 slots! I'll update when they are full/re-open.

If you found this post through a sort of "unrelated" tag, do forgive, but I want to keep things organized on this blog - I'm using all the artworks as refs for tags (and for people who might be interested to find my work too! "^^)

Now, I'll write more details below the cut - and I might update with info to answer eventual general questions I haven't thought yet! I highly encourage anyone interested to read it!

(below the cut, it's basically the info you get on the image, plus a few more things!)

Prices

Half Body (down to knees): $36

Additional Character: +$10

Full Body (down to feet): $46

Additional Character: +$10

The price is per additional character, so let's say you want two people on the commission, that would be 1 additional character, so +$10. You want three people, that would be 2 additional characters, so +$20. And so on.

*Commercial use is not added to the price. If you want it for commercial use, there will be an additional, depending on what you need it for!

Payment Info

I ask for half of the payment after I deliver the 1st sketch. The other half of the payment should be after I deliver the final commission;

I have a preference to be paid on Ko-Fi (via the tip jar), but I do accept PayPal as well. That's because I was recently commission-scammed and I was very scared someone would steal from my real life account;

Regarding revisions and payment: I'm not too picky with revisions, I just ask the client to have common sense. After the client tells me the sketch is fine and I can start working on the final thing, that's it, no turning back (don't worry, I always check like "ok, so I'll start working on the final thing, is there anything you want me to change? Now is the time to say!")

All my prices finish with 6 so it's easier for us to divide in half and pay half before and half after *math* :)

If you get to $66 you get a Papa Seal of Satanic Approval xD

Rules & Additional Info (so far)

I work within 1 week - but it might take more time if it's too detailed. I default 1 week, if I can't, I will let you know, don't worry;

Also, I do have some health ups and downs, if I get caught in a flare up (which hasn't happened in a while, hopefully it'll remain like this!), I'll let everyone know;

All backgrounds are simple - but keep in mind, I consider the Hunter's Moon background simple (some art deco/art nouveau too);

I also hold the right to refuse the commission if I'm uncomfortable with the theme. I do like some dubious stuff and Ghost, so you're gonna have to work hard to get me uncomfortable;

I will draw humans/humanoids in general (other fandoms, OCs, DnD characters, you name it);

I will NOT draw NSFW - sexually explicit (think porn/straight up sexual nudity), heavy gore/violence, borderline criminal/full criminal stuff, heavy fetish. It gets on the uncomfortable territory to me;

I'm ok with sexily alluring stuff, see my other examples for reference;

I'm ok with blood too. Vampires, horror movies, LOVE them. It's just when it's too graphic that it's a no-no for me;

I'm also a music moved person, so if you have a song as reference, throw it at me;

General Advice For Commissioning Me

You know those people who make fun of other people who are passionately speaking about something they love? I'm the uno reverse of that!

Seriously, the more you talk about your idea, the better I can work with it. If you wanna throw a Pinterest board with inspiration at me, a playlist with vibes, a collage, a picture of a cat you found on the street 'cause you want it there, DO IT. I need this kind of thing to work and you're making my life SO MUCH EASIER;

If you wanna write a 3 page explanation of your view, it also works, DO IT;

If you can't do any of that and is struggling, just talk to me. Artists train their minds to think of things in ways people usually won't think, so you can just list a couple of elements you want there, I'm gonna start having ideas and asking you a bunch of stuff so we get somewhere - just please, don't leave me talking alone, sometimes I feel I'm asking too much and being annoying xD

I'm a human being, I've been bullied and scammed as hell in my life, and I truly want to never hurt people like that. So, don't be afraid to talk to me, I don't bite (usually) and I'm working with this because I really enjoy doing it!

Alsoooo, don't be afraid to be yourself. That page with my other works, most of the characters are my OCs and one of them is a drag queen, the other is a trans woman, and one of them has a sort-of drag queen persona just because (long story) ;)

And be nice & polite, again, I'm a person too ^^

That's it so far! If there are any updates, I'll let you know!

[danplansfwtickle-blog0]

Title: don’t go~ 😘💜💙

Description: (well the art says it all but I’ll say it anyways) having been cuddling with Stephen for a while hosuh needs to get back to work but Stephen immediately becomes needy, persistant and goofy 😜

Art by: @polaris-s-creation-void

(Go check their art out it’s cute as frick! And amazing they are one of my fav artists! This art piece inspired this story!)

Ler: Stephen

Lee: hosuh

(?Shipping? Likely..)

——————————————————

Hosuh sighed when the feeling of fingers brushed through his hair like a comb, Stephen held him close tightly and not once did letting him go cross his mind, he loved Hosuh dearly and if it wasnt for his compassionate trait, Stephen wouldn’t be more tame and..as Hosuh would put it..fun loving. However Stephen has been rather in need in some physical affection, such as comfort cuddles from being alone all day while hosuh worked before he was given the luxury of a break for a half hour. And now that Hosuh was just reaching the end of said break, he was ready to leave the warm surroundings of stephens arms wrapped around him.

“Okay Stephen, time is up” hosuh cooed.

Stephen opened his eyes, surprised at how fast time had past.

“What? Can’t you stay a little longer?” He whined.

Hosuh chuckled.

“As much as I would like too, an animation won’t animate itself. Now please let me go”

Hosuh pushed stephens arms out of the way, sitting up and about to stand and walk out the door to head to his work space. But then felt an arm grab him.

“Oh god…” Hosuh mumbled, turning his ahead around cautiously.

Stephen was on his stomach, one arm reached out and had ahold of hosuhs hand and his pupils expanded and filled with the sense of plead in his eyes, pouting.

“Stephen I don’t have time for this, just please stop giving me that look” Hosuh pulled away, freeing himself from Stephen’s grip successfully.

Stephens head was down but he was almost smirking.

“Alright, guess you leave me with no choice” Stephen mumbled.

Hosuh raised a brow, before realizing what Stephen had planned, but it was too late, Stephen already had hosuh in a tight hug, this time making sure he wouldn’t leave. Hosuh squirmed and writhed in stephens arms.

“Stephen!” Hosuh giggled.

Stephen crossed his legs and settled on cradling hosuh while having him rest in his lap, one arm wrapped around hosuhs neck, both of hosuh’s arms gripping it, and the other arm of stephens on his head petting him. Hosuh blushed and couldn’t help but smile and giggle again.

“Stephen let me go. I need to go to work..”

“No”

Stephen had a big smile on his face. “I need you and I will have you! You’re mine and mine only!”

“I love you too Stephen but please! Work is important to me!” Hosuh complained.

Stephen put on a ‘how dare you’ expression, adding a whiny and sarcastic tone that hosuh knew Stephen used to get his way, only for it to never fail once.

“Awwww, cmon! Is work more important than your sexy boyfriend?! How dare you say such things hosuh? I’m so hurt by those words!” Stephen then changed from being whiny to being more playful. “I would skip anything to be with you hosuh, and yet you never do the same? You should be ashamed of yourself~”

Hosuh rolled his eyes. “Hah hah Stephen you got me, now can u please let me go now?”

Hosuh tried pulling away again but was pulled back by Stephen in the same lap position, Stephen looked hosuh deeply in the eyes.

“Wait! I noticed something on your face!”

Hosuh frowned. “Stephen I-“

“No really!”

“*sigh* what is it?”

Stephen then leaned his head in to hosuhs cheek and kissed it.

“It’s my love for you that you never cared to show me cause work is more important to you like nothing else!”

Hosuh started to get up again, but was pulled back once again and this time Stephen became more and more needy.

“Nuh-uh! Where do you think you’re going sweetheart? You owe me this!”

“Wait Stephen! I promise you I will cuddle with you again, and just know that you are more important to me than everything else on this planet. But work needs my attention now”

Stephen gave a cocky smirk.

“Nope! It’s me and always me!” Stephen then had a better thought. “In fact, instead of you owning me some love, what about you take my punishment for your not-so-loveable-share”

Hosuh started to giggle a bit out of nervousness and started to watch Stephen lean in for more face kissing.

“Stephen wahahait! NOHOHO!”

“What are you giggling about? I didn’t say or do anything….yet…” Stephen smirked.

“Nohohothing”

Hosuh covered his face and Stephen started to find more fun in this then he thought. Stephen started to poke in random areas of hosuhs torso such as the belly, sides and ribs, making him giggle like crazy. As he is doing so, he’s also using words of teasing energy.

“What’s so funny? Huh? What are you giggling about? I don’t see what’s funny here?” Stephen raised an eyebrow and smiled, seeing hosuhs hand swiping at his finger poke and pinch attacks on his torso that was still making him giggle like nothing else. “Oh does that tickle? Am I making you laugh by poking and teasing your belly and sides? Hmmm? Do you like it when I tickle you here or there?”

Stephen then started to use more then just one or two fingers but then started to use all five and just started going crazy teasing on hosuhs torso and eventually got hosuh under some hard laughter. Tears building up in his eyes.

“STEHEHEHEPHEN! CUT IT OUT!! HAHAHA!”

“But I love you soooooo much!!” Stephen stopped his torment and kissed hosuh repeatedly for a few seconds all over his face and then pecking hosuhs nose with his, making his blush deeper out of shyness.

“I love you hosuh~”

Hosuh paused for a moment, then sighed softly.

“I love you too Stephen”

After a good long hug Stephen finally let hosuh go and watched him disappear, even if he didn’t actually get any more longer cuddling, listening to hosuh laugh and giggle always made his day and night better. And Stephen knows hosuh means well and that he would always be hosuhs number one.

End.

Authors note: hey! I know this one was just as quick as the last but I’ve been pumped about writing these! Hopefully @polaris-s-creation-void doesn’t mind me using there art for inspiration! I do love their art though and I hope you enjoyed this story! Have a good day/night/noon everyone!

[talentforlying]

PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER!

alias / name: oxly!

birthday:  may 1st.

zodiac sign: taurus.

height: 5'4" / 162 cm i think??

hobbies: writing, singing, painting, media ethnography, osteology, learning to speak russian, D&D + star wars TTRPGs.

favorite color: black, a darker shade of cyan, or lavender!

favorite book: tie between inkheart by cornelia funke (i've read the cover clean off my poor copy, it never gets any less beautiful to me) and annihilation by jeff vandermeer (the southern reach trilogy singlehandedly rebuilt the neural pathways in my brain into cosmic horror highways, i swear to GOD).

last song: someone gets hurt - mean girls obc.

last film / show: X - ti west / true detective: night country.

recent reads: fabulosa!: the story of polari, britain's secret gay language by paul baker.

inspiration: tbh other than hellblazer and ethnographic films about the queer community in '70s england, i have a massive list of horror + sci-fi films, books, and punk + orchestral music that i've spreadsheeted alongside which aspects of constantine's personality/history they remind me of, so i can refer back to whatever matches the specific mood i'm trying to touch on in my writing. the cornetto trilogy, disco elysium, and the ritual are common inspirations. also, the mean girls + falsettos + jagged little pill obc recordings have been giving me writing inspo lately??? god knows why.

story behind url: one of my favorite quotes from hellblazer that's always highlighted the real body of constantine's skillset for me: "my talent's for lying. for sticking the knife in when people least expect it. then walking away with a smile and a wave before they even realize they're bleeding."

fun fact about me: i'm trained in broadsword stage combat and shakespearean textual analysis (which i primarily use in combination to defend my many queer opinions on shakespeare lol)

tagged by: @l1sten thank you!! tagging: @4ger, @devilmass, @untilthcyrot, @walkeddeath, @carbondated, @ohsunshine, anyone who wants to!!