#I think the last time I made lined and colored work of her proper was. 2019? maybe a lil later but I can't remember rn in my 5am sleepiness

[nikki-tine]

Guess who I finally got around to making updated, polished art of!

None other than Mama Multiverse (Elocin) herself! This was long overdue.

[dietpitt]

💚🎃Green Is Definitely Your Color🎃💚

Stan Pines x AFAB!Reader Explicit | 2.8k words Tags: Gender-Neutral Reader, Reader wears a dress, Halloween Costumes, Trick-or-Treating, Sexual Roleplay, Cunnilingus, Praise Kink, Voice Kink, Stan is a Leg Man, Body Worship, Marking Kink, Reader Plays Bride of Frankenstein

In which body paint and Stan's mouth save the day (but ruin a perfectly good costume).

{Read on AO3}

Author's Note: Originally posted 2020 on AO3, but I wanted to give it a proper tumblr post. I'm very proud of this one except I didn't know how to end it and it shows lol

Thankfully, there are only a few things you and your boyfriend don’t see eye-to-eye on. Stan takes his coffee black (old habit from the days of shoddy motels and a life on the run), while your own brew of choice is iced (lasts longer and doesn’t get cold since it already is). He thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to scare a baby every now and then, and proceed to laugh in their pudgy little tear-streaked face. You? You told him he’d be the one bawling if you ever caught him pulling that in your periphery again.

Tonight, though? Tonight is the perfect example of just how good you two are together. Because tonight, you weren’t scaring babies. Tonight, on Halloween, you were scaring kids. And that was worlds apart from wreaking havoc in the grocery store, which happened the majority of the remaining 363 days of the year.

Sure, Stan always goes all-out for his beloved Summerween, but October 31st is when his freak flag really flies. It makes sense--  Fall brings less tourists than usual, and shorter daylight hours means fewer parents letting their kids come out to the woods to trick or treat, making every opportunity for a scare count.

With the Mystery Shack trading its typical kitsch for spooky ephemera-- fully decked out in giant spiderwebs, ghoulish figures, and angry jack-o-lanterns-- it’ll truly be a dramatic sight to behold.

But, for all the elaborate planning, special effects to make the eyes pop out of his skull and the bolts on his neck to spark and smoke, Stan still manages to miss a few spots needing body paint. 

“Alright, alright, I think y’got it,” Franken-Stan fake-grumbles up at you from his seat in front of the full-length mirror.

“Will you relax? You’re gonna sweat, and I’ll have to do your makeup all over again,” you scold, though your painted lips curl into a fond grin despite yourself.

Though the kids will start coming any minute, you’re set on completing the finishing touches, if for no other reason than to keep Stan from further grumbling later.

… And most certainly not because you also love the opportunity to dote, holding him close in ways he’d otherwise be too shy about. Not at all.

“Are you going to wear your glasses?” You ask, getting his ears nice and green with the sponge brush.

He gives it some thought. “As much as it hurts the spook factor, I can’t really scare anybody if I fall on my face.”

Another, final once-over at your work and you’re satisfied, stepping back and raising your arms in the air triumphantly to steal yourself for your best mad-scientist cackle. “My creation! It’s aliiiive!” 

Stan laughs, quickly standing and caging you with his arms against the wall. “Damn right. Alive as ever.”

You shoo both him and the remark away, looking over your white “dress” (old sheet) to check for any green that may have made its way onto your costume. “I thought you were in a hurry, hmm? There’s no time for a touch-up. Now, be a good ‘husband’ and carry the train.”

Stan’s eyes roll as he lifts the gown, following your lead downstairs. “Yes, honey.”

Trying very carefully not to trip, Stan helps you down the stairs. “I still think it’s dumb that The Bride of Frankenstein doesn’t get a name, though. Sure, she’s in it for all of three minutes, but she gets the movie named after her and doesn’t even get a line?”

“Nah, she just screams,” Stan laughs, dropping your dress as you meet the front door. “Like it hurts to exist.” He swings the door open and the both of you speak in unison.

“She gets it.”

You share a small laughing fit at that, making your way outside into the crisp autumn air, giddy to begin the festivities. A few to last-minute adjustments and tech checks, and The Shack will be ready.

“Seriously though-- why can’t she be, like, Victoria or something?”

Over by the skeleton crawling out from under the porch, Stan snorts. “Victoria? Why?”

You shrug. “Why not?”

“Touche.”

It’s finally the tail-end of the second hour, and you’re in position behind the semi-trapdoor mechanism on the porch, hidden behind a dark and stormy castle standee. You’re high on the energy so far, after making some kids scream-squeal in delight. Although, you did manage to terrify a toddler on accident without even trying-- the poor thing burst into tears at the mere sight of you walking out normally from the porch.

Maybe it was the semi-realistic stitches on your flesh? Who knows. All that’s clear is you felt awful, but Stan was very clearly amused-- and jealous, you’d wager.

But now that it’s past bedtime for most little ones, it’s time to up the ante with some added special effects-- and the fast-approaching gaggle of baby teens seem to be the first that’ll enjoy them.

Always on top of it, Stan lets out a Frankenstein-like groan, marching further from the end of the porch, arms raised in cheesy classic style. The kids stop in their tracks as he clears his throat roughly to give the spiel he’s practiced all night, an extra ~spooky~ lilt to his otherwise mostly-normal voice:

“Foolish humans! You daaaare demand gifts, when your hubris created me from cursed flesh, and your hatred ensured my demise?!” He’s truly in his element as his neck bolts flicker for emphasis, making most of the middle schoolers jump and gasp.

The one at the front of the pack though, doesn’t budge, instead holding their pumpkin bucket out with an overall look of disinterest. “Yeah, duh. Trick-or-treat, old man. Hand over the candy.”

“Rude little shit,” you frown, not even needing to see Stan’s face to know he’s going to enjoy this particular scare very much.

“Hold it, kid, ” Stan sneers, continuing his introduction, “if you want anything good to eat, you’ll need to ask the most blood-curdling-- ”

You flip the switch for the fog machine, and bellows of grey creep in around the Shack--

“--The most SPINE-TINGLING, repulsive monster of us all--!”

You quickly step on the nearby button, and lightning flashes across the house as thunder sounds--

“ --MY WIFE! ”

At his signal, your spring forward, eyes crazed as a horrendous banshee screech leaves your throat and white tendrils wave in the wind.

The rude kid screams-- and while Stan bursts out laughing and you smile evilly, you miss them reflexively reach into their bucket, pull something out, and chuck it right at you before scampering away.

With a dull thud, the projectile lands on your head with a muffled thud, sending you off balance and toppling off the platform in a second. You hear Stan’s barks at the hoodlum, but soon he’s up the porch at your side, just as surprised as you are.

“The hell-- you alright, babe?”

Stan helps you up as you glance around for the offending object that’s left your head and the arm that broke your fall aching. “I-- what the fuck was that?!”

A large, off-white sphere rolls along a groove in the deck, moved by your shifted weight. It hits the edge of your shoe, and you pick it up to find it’s…

A popcorn ball.

A really fucking heavy, rock-hard popcorn ball.

With a splotch of white from your forehead smeared across it.

Stan’s bursts out laughing, though he doesn’t let his supposedly helpful grip on your waist go. “Who the hell gave that thing out?? They must’ve been saving it for last century-- ”

It’s funny. Like, really funny. Comedy freaking gold.

But your head hurts and you fell, and shit, your wig’s messed up…

Your own laughter breaks suddenly, and before you even know it you’re tearing up.

Franken-Stan blanches the soon as it hits him. “H-hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry-- are you alright?”

The comforting hands on your shoulder, the concern in his voice breaks the dam, tears spilling out despite your mind knowing better, and wanting to continue laughing it off like you should-- like you want to.

“I’m fine Stan, I’m fine, I-- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying, I really don’t,” you laugh, dabbing at your eyes with a bandage-covered hand. “That was too perfect.”

“Don’t apologize, that kid’s an asshole.”

“An asshole with a hell of a pitch,” You laugh, finally meeting Stan’s eye. 

“Wanna go inside? It’s gettin’ late anyway,”

“No! No, are you kidding? We just got started with the lightning! I’m fine, I promise--”

He raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“Really, I am. I’m the most horrifying creature of them all, right?”

“Hah! Sure are, sweet thing, sure are.”

“Then let’s get back to scaring. I’ll be ready to duck this time.” You laugh, elbowing Stan before getting back into place, and Stan follows.

11:27pm

There hasn’t been a kid in nearly 30 minutes, and with another hour under your belt, the pair of you are content to turn in for the night for some movies and the Halloween goodie bags left behind by scared trick-or-treaters.

Flopping down on the bed, your tired body practically sings. “Goddd, that kid really got me good.” The hands on your face muffle your words, but Stan gets the idea.

Taking pity on you, he pulls up the nearby chair and starts unlacing one of your boots for you. “Happens in the line of duty sometimes. Shoulda seen what one fairy princess threw at me one year-- actually, I don’t even wanna know what it was.” He jokes(?), tossing the shoe aside and beginning on the other.

“Knocked me down at the top of my game…” you mutter, twiddling with the end of a splayed-out strip of your garment.

“Hey,” Stan drops the other boot to the floor with a thud, quickly peeling off the striped sock that lay underneath. “Don’t forget, you scared the absolute shit out of that brat.”

You let out a hum, then chuckle. “Triggered his fight and flight.”

"Exactly,” he replies definitely, sling-shotting the second sock in the air. It lands on your chest, but you quickly toss it over to nowhere in particular.

“I don’t know if I can even get back up. Just let me die here,” you groan, only half-joking as the strenuous activities of the day catch up to you. “I’ll be a corpse for next Halloween.”

“Well, yer already halfway there in that getup,” Stan shrugs off the jacket of his costume and lets it fall on the chair. A glance across your form reminds him of the “bolts” attached to his neck, which he peels off with a wince. “And I’m not far behind ya.”

“I’ll be lucky if I look this good when I’m dead,” you laugh, adjusting to get more comfortable and fully prepared to just pass out, wig and all.

Stan’s eye catches on the bare skin of your leg that’s revealed when you shift, the stark white of your gown falling to the side as it bends at the knee and the other still hangs off the bed uselessly. He hums, appreciative of the sensual view of you before him: limbs draped out, black eye makeup smudged...

Your eyes fly open at the feeling of Stan’s large hand on your knee, and you’re met with a familiar mischievous grin on Stan’s still-green face. “Mmm, you’re already bewitching, babe.” 

That look always manages to send a pang through your gut. “Oh, stop it…”

This wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined the night ending, but don’t mind all that much if it’s headed where you think it’s headed.

“‘M serious,” Stan chuckles. “Yer right about The Bride too… never appreciated enough,” His thumb rubs a circle on the soft flesh on the inside of your knee, and you can’t help but sigh at the nice pressure. 

Your stomach nearly flips when he slides to his own knees, grip moving down your calf and lifting your leg to place a playful kiss to your ankle. His name falls from your lips in a whine, equal parts warning and pleading, for exactly what you can’t decide. You’re answered nonetheless by another peck just above the previous, then another with the slightest bit of teeth that makes you gasp and prop up onto your elbows.

The sight is absolutely ridiculous -- Frankenstein’s monster himself between your legs, smiling dumbly as he nips at the neglected one before he pushes excessive fabric up and off to reveal more of your form. “Stan, we-- oh my god--”

It’s when he pulls you forward on the bed that you see it: the splotches of deep green coloring the trail Stan is continuing up your thigh with a knowing look.

You laugh at first, starting to push him away so you can properly remove your dress, but he tuts, gripping your hips instead and curling an arm around your thigh, slinging it over his shoulder with an in-character groan: "You go nowhere.

You’re torn between teasing him about the fact that he’s really roleplaying as fucking Frankenstein right now, and the shudder that rolls through you as Stan noses your center through the cotton, saying: “Mine .”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say when his mouth meets between your thighs, teasing your folds through the fabric with a brazen tongue. You let yourself go then, leaning into the anticipation as after a moment Stan tugs the garment down and off, though it catches on your foot and is left dangling there uselessly.

“You’ll be screamin’ for me, don’t you worry,” he says, breath ghosting over your core before fully tucking in.

There’s no energy left in you to scream, but the needy whimpers and moans that escape as he ushers you up towards pleasure are melodic, a siren song that urges Stan to keep delving into your cunt, to hold your thighs open with a possessive grip.

“F-fuck,” you cry, reaching down and threading your fingers through his mop of black-sprayed hair between your legs. He groans mid-lap at your clit, and you gasp as his hands join in on the ministrations, caressing and petting from your hips to your stomach.

It’s when he starts sucking that you start to really writhe, tugging roughly at his locks to push him deeper. He slurps your arousal right up, the sound mortifying yet helping thrust you closer to the fast-approaching peak.

“C’mon, honey,” Stan says, thumb maintaining a rhythm on your clit. “Come for me, darling.”

The foreign pet name does it, sending a rolling orgasm that hits you in waves, crying out Stan’s name and other sweet nothings before going limp.

After a moment he sits back, more than proud as he wipes his mouth and watches you twitch and moan through the lingering pulses.

“Wow-- what was that all about?” You manage to pant out, made curious again as Stan stands suddenly, walking over to the mirror on the far-side of the room.

“Check it out,” he says, bringing the mirror to the edge of the bed and leaning against it with a self-satisfied grin.

Sitting up, your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed and glowing-- with a prominent mess of green smeared along your skin, practically outlining each and every touch that made you come undone. A few complete hand prints are even visible, on the backs of your knees, on your hip-- even a comically clear outline against the stark white of your covered chest.

Your face burns hot as you can’t help but laugh in disbelief, both at what you see and the unexpected thrill of it; it’s delightful, and silly, and sexy, and overall just an image you think won’t leave your head for a while.

Stan chuckles at your reaction, pleased. “S’a good look on ya-- damn near electrifyin’ , some might say.”

“Come here,” you ask, arms out to beckon him forward. He does, and you don’t miss the prominent bulge in his trousers as he walks over.

Pulling him down by his shirt, you lock him into an appreciative kiss, raking your nails across his scalp and practically pulling him on top of you to continue the makeout, bed size be damned.

Needing air, you finally break away, glancing back at the mirror to see green now decorating your mouth and cheeks. “You’d missed a spot,” you inform Stan, pointing to the new addition to your face.

He hums, ducking down to nip at your neck and clavicle, painting them just the same. “Could think of a few more spots needin’ a touch-up,” he growls, rolling his hips.

Snaking your hand into the band of his pants, Stan lets out another groan at your touch and when you say lightly into his ear:

“Looks like you could use some white with that green, hmm?”

Happy Spooky Season!! 🎃💚🎃

[Masterlist]

dividers by @strangergraphics and @firefly-graphics

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 20

Another Milestone everybody you know what that means! Time for another instance of me trying to be a little extra! 

And today we have a very special piece, cause this ones based directly on a previously mentioned fanfic by Val! Which I will now link!

Chapter 1 of Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed (Give it a read!)

I tried to be a bit more meticulous with this one, for example, I made sure to put the two in their school blazers rather than the outfits featured in the games. Mostly thanks to an offhand mention in the early chapter that Mikan was putting on that outfit. And since this takes place in a Non-Despair AU the two are just attending highschool as normal, so no need to have them wearing their Killing Game attire during school hours. This being a Non-Despair AU is also why Junko’s wearing the hair accessories more commonly associated with Mukuro’s Disguise. As while Monokuma has been talked about in the timeline of Val’s Junkan stories, as far as my memory will allow there’s never been a noted instance of Junko wearing her Monokuma Clips.

Is this me reading into it too much? Was none of that even remotely the intention? No clue! Never thought to ask Val about it, bit late for it too!

(Future Jem Typing) With a lot of hindsight now I realize I might not have been as accurate to Junko's uniform design? (Future Jem No longer Typing) Honestly once the event is further underway I wouldn’t be surprised if I went in and did some cleanup and full linework, color, etc (possibly a full remake if I'm crazy) for this one. I would have done so now but as mentioned in the previous post, burnout for this project is kinda crazy right now. But as my first proper gift to Val as thanks for her work with this ship, I’m still pretty happy with it! Tried to be as close as possible to the original text as I could.

There is a part of me that feels bad letting my bias bleed through a lot in this project, because this is not going to be the last time I draw something either directly based on or inspired by one of her fics. But also given that this entire event would not exist without the amount of work she’s put into writing these two, or the motivation she gave me early on in the project, I think it is mildly warranted in this instance. 

And don’t worry, I do have a few days lined up that are influenced by other authors, moreso in the latter half. Hopefully that’ll be a good counterbalance. 

Once again, go read that fic, it’s one of my favorite reads among Fanfic, and both it and the rest of Val’s work deserves your attention! . . . in my totally unbiased opinion. adsjfjlsdjfhsa

[linderosse]

Cannot wait to see your new design for Echourora. I keep refreshing hoping to see you drop the design and comic.

On a proper question, what do you do with the Priestess/Shrine Maidens/Sage descendants from LttP for Wisdomverse? What's their relationship to the actual Sages of ALBW?

Hahaha I can’t wait to share it! I keep thinking of more things to draw around this little Echo|Aurora concept of mine. I’ve been working on a bunch of them in parallel so I can release them as I finish :).

I’m actually nearly done with the first bit! So many ideas, so little time to draw. I’ve been traveling a lot this week and last week, and it’s hard to draw in a moving car :)

But I can still type in a moving car, so hey, here’s an answer to your question!

I personally am merging all the characters from ALBW into their ALttP counterparts, and that includes the sages. Essentially, you can imagine that the sages from ALBW were the ones trapped in the jewels in ALttP— except one of them was replaced by Fable, because Fable is one of the sages in ALttP, but not in ALBW.

Dot in FSA gets a set of color-coded maidens of her own, so Fable doesn’t need one as well. And using the ALBW sages for ALttP is also much more consistent with the sages from OoT. Here’s a nice graphic that someone made online (not mine; I downloaded this ages ago as a drawing reference).

So, in ALttP: the sages get kidnapped/sacrificed at the start, just like the maidens were. At the end, they all come together to break Ganon’s barrier, with Fable (Zelda) as their leader.

That leads to the question: which of the ALBW sages is replaced by Zelda for ALttP, and then gets to be a sage again in ALBW? My vote goes to Seres, the priestess in blue at the end of the line— though I’m still giving her a role to play in ALttP.

In fact, I’m gonna trace where all of them could have been in ALttP. There’s a lot of fun contradictions to merge :).

Osfala

He’s Sahasrahla’s disciple/grandson, just like in ALBW, and gets kidnapped with the rest of them. This has the added benefit of giving Sahasrahla a personal motive to want to help Link at the start of the game (though of course he’s already down to help). Let’s say you can rescue/recruit Osfala in the Dark Palace in ALttP, because it’s the first Dark World dungeon and it’s near where he and Sahasrahla live in the Light World.

Rosso

I don’t think he has a counterpart in ALttP? If he does, I’ve forgotten. Guess he just gets kidnapped and rescued like the others. He can have the Ice Palace, because although I do like Rosso, I hate the Ice Palace and have to give it to someone. It’s a nice ironic choice for a Fire-aligned guy like him (since Turtle Rock is off the table—it’s Fire-aligned, but it’s the last dungeon and therefore has to be where you rescue Fable)

Gulley

Gulley is the blacksmith’s son and one of the sages in ALBW, and the counterpart of the Ocarina Kid in ALttP. In this merged version, he gets rescued from the Skull Woods dungeon, but he’s too young to hold himself together properly in the Dark World, and gives his ocarina to Legend and then dies when they reach that stump in the forest like the ocarina kid does in ALttP canon. Let’s keep that trauma for Legend.

(Note that a lot of people die in ALttP. It’s fine, dw, they’re all canonically revived at the end of the game)

But then the gang is missing one sage! How will they break the barrier, which requires seven sages total? Fear not, they have a plan. We’ll get to that later though. For now…

Oren

Oren gets to be the adult daughter of the aging King River Zora in ALttP who gives Link the flippers. This has the added benefit of giving the King Zora a reason to help Link despite the fact that his people are constantly trying to kill you. Oren gets rescued from the Swamp Palace, just like in ALBW. Water theme go brrrr.

Impa

Impa is Impa. Rescued from Misery Mire, because why not. Nothing special here.

Maple/Irene

Ah, Maple. She’s the granddaughter of Granny Syrup, the potionmaker from ALttP. Maple was added only in the GBA remake of ALttP as a reference to her appearance in the Oracle games. Her kidnapping would give Syrup an added personal motive for helping Link out.

I’m giving Maple the Thieves’ Town dungeon in ALttP because Thieves’ Town is special. Folks who have played ALttP, or who are familiar with The Secrets We Keep, may remember the dungeon boss Blind the Bandit. Blind masquerades as the captive from this dungeon and follows you— until you lead him to a special room and the light turns him back to his monstrous form.

I love the thought of a fake Maple following Legend around, pleading that she’s real, and to trust her— but Legend sees through the lies. When Legend rescues the real Maple, her dry cynicism is a breath of fresh air, and a distinct reminder that she’s the real version. It gives Legend a connection to Maple that he gets to build on more in the Oracle games.

Legend will also proceed to be traumatized by Blind twice more in the future (including TSWK), but that’s a story for another day :).

Seres

Finally, Seres is the daughter of the Priest in ALBW. In ALttP, the Priest hides Zelda in his church for the first half of the game, and dies valiantly trying to protect Zelda when Agahnim comes for her again. In this merged version, Seres was there too, and can’t do anything to save her father. This has the added bonus of giving the Priest a personal motive to want to help Link in the first half of the game (his daughter is in danger), and giving Seres a personal motive to help set the world to rights again in the second half of the game (she wants her father back).

In this merged version, Seres takes Gulley’s place in the final scene where Fable and the gang blast through Ganon’s barrier, so they still have seven sages. There aren’t really any elemental roles in ALttP and ALBW like there are in OoT, but if you consider the elements to still exist, you can think of Fable as a wildcard sage who can fill Gulley’s role, like Lullaby/Requiem does in OoT as the “Seventh Sage.”

Tl;dr:

And there you go! The ALBW seven, if they were in ALttP.

Did I overthink this? Yes. Will I change details of this later? Maybe. Was this fun to contemplate anyways? Hell yeah!

Thanks for the amazing question. I love these; keep ‘em coming, folks!

Masterpost

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 18

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff, funeral

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's Note: Gonna be honest with y'all, I wrote this chapter this morning before lunch, because the last two weeks have been hectic at work and I haven't had any time. There was an important executive meeting Wednesday and everyone of importance was there, and then there was me 😅 So, yeah, sorry if this isn't up to my usual standards. I'll probably edit it at some point. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @/beating-a-dead-plot

Part 1 || Prev | Next

Series Masterlist

Wolffe strolled down the streets of Coruscant and followed the coordinates Fox gave him for the nanny service. He was hesitant about hiring a stranger to watch his daughter, but he was more hesitant about leaving her in the sole care of the Jedi in the Temple. Wolffe trusted Plo with his life and his men, but Plo wasn't going to be the one watching Cara, and that was the unsettling part. On the other hand, Fox did mention that he vetted the nanny service, so it seemed safe enough. But it still rolled around in the back of his head like a marble on glass.

Wolffe tilted his head back towards the sky and groaned. He enjoyed life better when he didn't have to make these types of decisions. He was bred to think more outside the box than the average clone, but that was when it came to battle strategies, not babysitting. He knew about war and how to fight one, so he knew how to make those proper decisions, even in a split second on the battlefield under heavy fire, he could make clear and concise choices. However, parenting didn't come with a manual, simulations, target practice, or anything else useful.

Wolffe's comm beeped when he reached the coordinates. He must have been deep in his thoughts to have kept walking and ended up at the location he was headed to without realizing it. Auto-pilot is what everyone called it, but Wolffe called it a death trap. Distractions like that could get him and his entire battalion killed and then Cara would have no one–she'd be a real orphan. The thought made Wolffe shiver. He was going on a simple rescue mission and he'd be right back when it was done. There was no need for him to think those thoughts.

Wolffe looked up at the bright pink and blue neon sign with lines that swirled into odd shapes reminiscent of Galactic Basic letters. He raised an eyebrow at the strange sign and tilted his head to the side to try and read it. Why couldn't people just make signs with normal letters? He squinted in a final effort to read the words, but he shook his head and walked through the door without knowing what it said. If he was at the wrong establishment, he'd turn around, but something about the decor in the lobby told him he was in the right place.

It was a cross between, what Wolffe would consider, a child's play area and a sterile medcenter examination room. It looked and smelled clean, like an exam room, but their decorations were vibrant and colorful, and there were children's toys everywhere. It looked like a controlled clutter and it made Wolffe feel uncomfortable–anxious. He grew up in a sterilized environment with soft white lights, where the only color he ever saw was the dull blue or red of the cadet uniforms. The amount of color in this room made him dizzy.

"Can I help you?" the woman behind the counter asked.

Wolffe snapped out of his daze and approached the counter. The receptionist seemed nice enough–middle-aged, with graying hair, and glasses that reflected the light from the screen she sat behind. "I need a…" he paused. The words felt foreign in his mouth and almost disgusting to say, and he didn't know why. "...a nanny."

The woman grabbed one of the data-pads out of the docking port and handed it to Wolffe. "Start with completing this form."

Wolffe took the data-pad and stared at the woman, waiting for more direction. "Where…"

"You can sit in one of the chairs over there," she said. She stood up and pointed to a row of chairs that lined the far wall.

Wolffe nodded and sat in one of the chairs. It was made of plastic and squeaked under his weight. Even the chairs made Wolffe uncomfortable. Everything about this place made him feel itchy and prickly under his skin. He rapidly tapped his foot on the floor and periodically reminded himself to stop. The clones didn't have nervous tics. Well, at least, clone commanders didn't have nervous tics, and he wasn't sure when he possibly picked one up, but he could guess it had something to do with Cara. He wouldn't even be in this room if it wasn't for her.

Wolffe took a deep breath and started filling out the form. It started with simple information. How many kids–easy, one. Name–also easy, Cara. Date of birth–oh, no. He knew the day Cara was born, didn't he? Wolffe tapped his foot harder. What kind of father was he if he couldn't remember his only child's birthday? Maker, he wished his wife could help him. Then a light bulb turned on. The recording of Cara's birthday had a time stamp. Luckily, he had a good memory, and he input the date and month, and with a little math, he added the year.

Wolffe continued to work on the form. Much of it was simple, but there were more difficult parts, mostly to do with him. It asked for his last name–he didn't have one. It asked for his identification number–he didn't have one. It asked for his occupation–what was he supposed to put? War? Clone? Commander? He decided to leave it blank and move on. It was a dumb question anyway. This was about Cara, not him. Everything else about Cara and his wife was easy to input. It did ask for allergy and pediatrician information, but he didn't have any of that.

Once he completed the form to his best abilities, he brought the data-pad back to the woman at the counter. She took it and started importing the data into their system while Wolffe stood and waited for her to finish.

The woman frowned. "This form is incomplete."

Maker, he just wanted to get out of here. "I put in what I could."

"Your last name?" she asked. She stared at him like he was stupid or something.

"I don't have one," he said. "I'm a clone."

"Hm," she huffed with surprise. "I didn't know clones could have children."

Wolffe huffed. "We're not exactly sterile."

The woman ignored the comment. "I'll just put 'clone' as your last name. It won't let me submit the form without it."

Wolffe sighed. "Whatever works."

"And your daughter is…" she began. "Cara Dalott?" She paused, looking confused. "Wait, as in the Dalott's? The aristocratic Dalott family on the upper level? That Dalott?"

Wolffe gritted his teeth. "Yes, that Dalott."

"I didn't know the Dalott's had a granddaughter," she said while scanning through the rest of the information.

Now, he was getting annoyed. "It wasn't advertised."

"Such a shame about their daughter, Maria, though," she said, not looking up from her screen. "She had so much potential. What a waste."

"Please," Wolffe said. "Don't talk to me about my dead wife."

The woman peered up at him from behind her glasses, then went back to looking at her screen. "There's still some mis–"

Wolffe flattened his palms against the counter and took a deep breath. "Listen, all I need is for someone to live in the Jedi Temple and take care of my daughter while I'm halfway across the galaxy fighting a war! Can you help me or not?"

The woman sighed and placed the data-pad down. "Mr. Wolffe, do you need a live-in, full-time, or part-time nanny?"

"Live-in," he said.

"Species preference?"

"Human."

"Gender preference?"

"Female."

"Age preference?"

"Don't care."

"And when do you need the nanny?"

"Tomorrow, before sunset."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "You just want everything, don't you?"

"Do you have someone or not?" he asked.

The woman pulled out her comm. "I might have one that fits your needs. I'll send her a message and see if she's available to start tomorrow, but no guarantees."

"Thank you," he said. "How much?"

"How long do you need her for?" she asked.

Wolffe shrugged. He could try to guess, but it wouldn't be accurate. "Maybe two or three months?"

"Rates for live-in nannies are 2,500 credits a month," she said. "You want to pay for two or three?"

Wolffe's jaw dropped. Where was he going to get that many credits before tomorrow? This was way more expensive than he thought it was going to be. He hadn't counted, but he probably only had about 500 credits to his name. He could ask around the battalion, but credits were sparse among the clones and to ask his men to fund a nanny for his daughter sounded dumb. He'd have to find another way–some way. Once deployed, he could scavenge up more credits for the next time he needed the nanny. He'd never drink again, but it was a small price.

"Two months, and if I'm gone longer, I'll have it transferred," Wolffe said.

"Perfect," she said, then gave the data-pad back to Wolffe with a stylus. "Sign at the bottom."

Wolffe signed the agreement and gave the data-pad and stylus back to the woman.

The woman's comm dinged and she read the message. "Good news, Mr. Wolffe. I have your nanny. She'll be here tomorrow morning. Your payment is due then."

"Thank you," Wolffe said, and he turned to leave. Now he only had one thing to focus on, where he was going to get 5,000 credits before the morning.

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[tea-moon-ster]

Broken Toy

Remus' injury from Julian's eyes.

all characters belong to @lumosinloveread except for Layla, Lyall's sister, and Mrs Bee, who I created. read it on ao3 here.

Jules had been officially abandoned by his family.

Or: his mom was late at picking him up after school. She was usually the first in line, waving back with a grin and waiting for Mrs. Bee to let Julian go after spotting her. His mom would say Hi little champ! and he’d tell her all about his day, only for her to hear it all again at home when dad came back from work, and a third time when Remus called before bedtime.

But that day, his mom was not at pick up. One by one, all the other kids left to join their parents, going back home or to the park. And as the group of four-year-olds grew thinner and thinner, Julian could hear the panic rising and pulsing in his ears.

Where was his mom?

Oh. She’d probably forgotten about him, or decided to abandon him, that he wasn’t a good boy, and he’d never see his family again, he would stay at day-care forever, where would he sleep, he could never return home—

His train of thoughts was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. Mrs. Bee was looking down at him with a concerned smile, and after seeing his lip trembling, she knelt in front of him. Her long skirts with sunflowers spread on the floor, but no footprint would stain it, because Jules realized, he was the last kid waiting to be picked up. He heard himself sniffling, a sob shaking his shoulders.

 “Where…” he tried, his voice breaking. “Where’s my mommy?”

Mrs. Bee made a cooing noise. “Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure your mom is just running late, that’s all. She isn’t leaving you here, okay?”

Jules nodded rapidly, just so Mrs. Bee wouldn’t think he was scared or freaking out.

“Okay, then. Why don’t we wait for her at the reception?”

Mrs. Bee accompanied him to the receptionist’s office, and he sat down in one of the colorful chairs his size. He remained sit straight and proper, without taking off his hat or jacket, because he was absolutely, categorically, definitely sure that his mom was about to storm in, mentioning a problem with the car or traffic, and take him home. Jules was sure. Any second now.

But time passed.

A four-year-old couldn’t read the clock, or have a full conception of time, for all it mattered. But Jules could see that too much time was passing. He could see it in the arms of the clock moving and the sky turning darker. But most importantly, Jules could feel it. He could feel it in the concerned looks Mrs. Bee kept exchanging with the secretary, and he could feel his hat and jacket becoming too hot, making his cheeks red and his forehead run with sweat. He tried not to mind, not to show his concerns, not to move. So that he could be ready for when his mom came.

.

Julian was drawing a tree with the pens the secretary had given him when he heard footsteps coming from the door. Mrs. Bee had left some time ago, telling him she was sorry, but it was getting late, and she had to go home. They’d tried calling his home many times, and his mom, and dad, even Remus’s phone, because he always picked him up when he was home from college and Mrs. Bee knew him from when he was Julian’s age. But no one had picked up.

The door slammed open as a tall woman stormed in, looking around. When her eyes fell on him, Jules could practically feel the relief rush in the room.

“Auntie Layla?”

“Julian, baby, hi.”

“Auntie Layla!”

He scrambled to his feet, running to hug his aunt’s legs, tears beginning to fall again at full flow. Some words were exchanged between her and the secretary, but Julian didn’t listen, he didn’t care. Someone had come for him and that was enough. He hadn’t been abandoned.

Aunt Layla had to sign some documents and wait for a call before they could leave, but she held his hand the whole time. The lights were being turned off as they were still walking out of the school; they really had been waiting for the two of them to leave before closing.

Aunt Layla was his dad’s sister. They really looked alike, and her house was the nearest to Jules’ among the family, only a town away. She didn’t have a child seat in her car, so she told Julian to hold on tight to the door handle as she bucked him with two seat belts. They drove in silence, Jules being in a sort of trance for a few hours by that point.

Aunt Layla was the cool aunt. She didn’t have kids -the only aunt that didn’t- and she always brought Jules gifts from all over the world when she came back from her travels. Her house was cool, too, filled with decorations from countries far away. Julian usually liked her house. The tapestries, the long masks on the walls, the delicate knick-knacks that glimmered in the light in so many colors. He could watch and ask about everything, and the only rule was to have an adult near when he picked something up. But that evening, the house seemed too big, too delicate and unfamiliar for Jules to settle down.

They ordered fast food for dinner, and Jules ate all the things they usually wouldn’t let him, like extra nuggets or ice cream. Layla seemed pretty willing to provide a fun night, letting him pick some cartoons and smiling and listening. But there was something Jules needed to do before bedtime. Things he needed to hear.

“Mommy?”

“Sweetheart, hi. Hi, baby.” Something was off and Jules could tell by his mom’s voice. She wasn’t playful, or serious. Just cooing and tired. “Sorry I wasn’t at pickup today. Must have been pretty scary, huh?”

“But where were you?” he all but whined.

“Jules…Dad and I are with Rey right now. He has a big ouchie, so he needs me and Dad here with him for a while. It won’t be long, I promise.”

“But-but-why? And why did you leave me here? I couldav’come with.” He could hear his lip starting to tremble again. “I wanna go home.”

“Oh, baby. I know you do, I’m sorry. But it won’t be long, okay? We’ll come home soon. But for now, you must listen to your auntie. She’ll drop you at school tomorrow, okay? You be good. After school you and Aunt Layla can go home. It’s just this night that you have to hold on tight. Can you do that for me, little champ?”

Julian sobbed.

.

Layla sighed. Gosh, what a day. She checked her phone again -no new texts, just like thirty seconds ago. Lyall had promised to update her, but he seemed pretty on edge from his last call. Maybe he was finally getting some sleep, but she highly doubted it. God knew she couldn’t.

It had all started a few hours ago, while she was at work, with a call from a shocked and sobbing Hope. Something happened, we need to go, but Jules, oh God Julian, please Layla do something. Then Lyall had taken the phone, a bit more lucid, but his voice was two octaves higher than normal, and it trembled like a leaf.

“Layla, we’re in Madison right now.”

“You’re- what? What are you doing there?”

“I—I drove here.”

“Well- thanks. But why are you there?”

“Remus.” And that was all. Layla blinked.

“What about Remus?”

“I—we don’t know. We got a call from the hospital, he was in ER, then in surgery, and now he’s in surgery again—”

“What, what? Surgery? What happened? Lyall, is he—”

“Layla, don’t ask me if he’s alright, I swear to God.” A deep breath. “It was—an injury at the college rink, they say. At practice. His shoulder—but they found him unconscious in the locker room…I don’t know…”

“Okay, okay,” she repeated with the steadiest voice she could master. Remus had been the first child in the family, so naturally he’d been showered in attention since he was a baby. But Layla and Lyall had always been closer to each other than to the rest of their siblings. Call it twin factor, call it living together for longer than others. What remained was that Layla, while dead set on not having kids, had always had a special bond first with Remus, and now with Julian. To hear her nephew, still a kid to her eyes, was in danger and pain, was to have a dagger stabbed in her chest.

She wanted to jump in her car right away to join them at the capital, but she knew that wasn’t her place to decide. If they’d called her, there must have been a reason.

“What do you need right now?” she asked.

“Jules. I- we—we really needed to go. God, I didn’t even check in with you or Mom if someone could pick him up, what kind of father am I—"

“Lyall, time to keep it together.”

“Julian. I need you to pick up Julian at school. Can you keep him with you tonight? I—I swear I’ll be back tomorrow. Or I’ll let you have the keys, I don’t know. But right now…”

“You got it.”

And so, she did what Lyall needed her to do. She left her office early and ran to get her car, and definitely drove past the speed limit, and picked Jules up. She didn’t really know what to do, but what she knew was that Jules had been left alone and he was scared. She did everything in her power to let him relax, turning on tv channels she didn’t know existed and letting him play with her wooden carved animals from central Africa.

Bedtime had been hard. Julian wanted to call his parents again, wanted Remus to answer, and then a story, and then another, and finally they settled on the couch with warm milk and cartoons. It worked quick enough.

.

A week later, Remus was back at home. Or better, he was back in his room.

Julian was home with Aunt Layla when they heard the door open, and his dad’s hushed voice. He sprinted in the hallway, colliding with his dad’s legs and screaming and crying at the same time. Daddy, you’re home, you came back, I missed you, where’s mom, where’s Rey, I wanna see Rey, Rey. Dad picked him up and eased him on his hip, with a quick kiss to his temple.

“Shh, Jules, quiet. I missed you too, monkey, but we need to be quiet now.”

Confusion rushed through his head as he was passed to his aunt’s arms and let down only once in the living room. His dad was always happy to see him. To listen to him, to calm him, to hug. He didn’t dismiss him like that. Aunt Layla held him close as more shuffling came from the hallway. His mom’s voice, and bags hitting the floor. His mom entered, voice low and gentle, and then another figure appeared on the doorstep. Julian made sure to use all the air in his lungs to call his brother.

“Remus!”

He was immediately shushed by Layla, that held him tight as he tried to wiggle out of her grip to go greet Remus. His brother was almost never home during the week, and when he came back, he was happy to spend time with him. But Remus didn’t answer, nor turned to look at him. He remained on the doorstep, eyes dull and face pale. It was only when his mother gently took him by the arm that wasn’t in a sling that he stepped forward. And when he did, his mother accompanied him immediately to his room. And closed the door behind her.

Jules was so taken aback that he didn’t even cry.

Not until he was in his bed, big lights off, and his parents had wished him a good night.

.

Julian stared unconvinced at the box of fast food in front of him. It was Remus who usually took him to Speedy Joe’s, the old town’s diner,when he was back home. But now Remus wouldn’t come out of his room, and his dad was looking at him from the other side of the plastic table expectantly.

He wasn’t wearing his usual smile. Just something close.

“How’s your burger, kid?”

Julian had given up asking what happened to Remus. No one would answer.

It had been a few weeks since Remus had come back. Julian still hadn’t seen him. His parents and family were spoiling him with ice-cream and new toys and snacks after practice—his first year playing, and he didn’t have a big brother to talk about hockey with anymore. He was beginning to think he’d done something wrong, if hockey was something wrong. It was around his parents’ tight smiles when he got ready for practice, and the hushed conversations with coach Johnson (Remus helped him every summer), and the hours spent with babysitters. The house began to fill with meds he was absolutely forbidden to touch, and bandages, and papers everywhere.

“Saving the bacon fries for last, eh? Just like your mom, you.”

And then there was that. Mom and Dad being weird. Not spending the same time with him but trying to make it up with extra snacks, toys and tv time. Julian liked it—any sane kid would have liked it—but it still felt different, and therefore wrong.

Julian felt lost. And the worst thing was, no one wanted to help him with directions.

He looked out of the window, where snow was starting to fall. Soon the pond in the park would freeze and kids would bring their skates there. Mom and Remus had taken him last year, and Julian had spent all summer waiting for the ice to form again. But how he was not so sure he’d get to skate on the pond, or to see the pond at all.

Julian went to bed with many questions in his head that night.

The morning after, Remus’ home skates were gone.

Jules’ sat alone in the pantry, small and new.

All by themselves, they looked way less special.

[ciderwitch]

I'm just feeling it today man. I might be writing some Holiday Submas SFW fluff next tbh but had to get this out of my system first 😔😉

🔞Butler Ingo x Reader x Butler Emmet + Tights Kink(?)

Ingo and Emmet looked so good in their tailored suits that you decided to surprise them at the Tea Festival on Pasio with a maid outfit of your own!

It had a simple but cute design with black and white fabrics, dainty red and blue ribbons, and small polished buttons of silver and gold. Elesa was very happy to help you pick out and design most of the pieces yourself– you didn't want to think about the price of the shoes she gifted you– but she was absolutely adamant about the last piece you needed to complete the look.

It was a pair of lacy black tights. Not that you minded, considering that the ones with garters felt a little too risque for this kind of event. They were cute but plain aside from a band of ribbons going across your mid-thigh.

Truth be told, you felt they were a little too thin to be tights, but Elesa wouldn't hear it. It didn't help that she'd told you that your normal underwear was making lines so you had nothing on underneath the thin fabric.

Still, you couldn't help but feel cute. Sexy, even, given how the dress showed off your curves in a way you were usually too afraid to try.

"You look adorable!", Elesa happily stated before ushering you into the Zebstrika-led carriage that would be escorting the two of you tonight. "I told you my friend was a good seamstress!"

"I just hope they like it." You sigh worriedly as the carriage gets closer to the plaza. You could already hear the soft classical music coming from the small orchestra and Ingo's voice distantly announcing another celebrity.

Ingo and Emmet had worked very hard to get chosen as the hosts at this year's Tea Party event and were personally welcoming all the special guests as they arrived. There were dozens of elite trainers, breeders, and scientists from several regions in attendance tonight.

"Trust me," Elesa said, tapping your knee with hers and giving you a bright smile. "They're going to love it! Besides, you could be wearing a dress of old Arbok skin and they'd still think you were the prettiest girl in all of Unova." She joked.

You chuckled, knowing she was probably right. Ingo and Emmet were always appreciative of how you looked, even complimenting you when you were in your rattiest pair of pajamas after you all hibernated through a three day weekend.

Still, it was hard to calm your nerves as you felt your turn to exit the carriage draw near. All too soon, the Zebstrika out front came to a halt and Elesa stepped out first.

"Now introducing Madame Elesa, the Shining Beauty of Unova!" Ingo's voice rang out once again. Turns out his volume came in handy for events like this, though Emmet's monotone voice was no less booming as he held up his microphone to give your introduction as you stepped out of the carriage.

"Now introducing Madame Y/n, Champion of Unova!"

As you slipped your gloved hand into Ingo's, you tried to get a glimpse of his face.

He looked downright dashing in his suit and hat, and you chuckled at the immediate blush that colored his cheeks as he caught sight of your dress.

He quickly passed you over to Emmet, who gave you a subtle once over and a quick wink before he helped usher you to the red carpet.

You felt their eyes following you as you made your way back to Elesa who was posing for a few pictures before taking her seat.

A handful of other high-profile guests arrived until finally it was time to begin the festivities.

Ingo and Emmet were masterful hosts, directing staff and delighting guests the entire evening. Though they couldn't spend too long with any table in particular, you knew they were being careful to keep your tea cup full and your snack tray well-stocked. You tried not to stare, but they were both effortlessly graceful. Ingo, prim and proper, bowed to each guest before offering to pour them another tea. Emmet was as talkative as ever, entertaining guests and leaving each table with more laughter and smiling than when he had found it.

It was a wonderful evening and you had met dozens of interesting new individuals, exchanging your number and promising plenty of battles in the upcoming future.

When the time came, Ingo and Emmet thanked everyone for their attendance and dazzled their guests with a final fireworks show.

You decided to head home so you could prep some dinner and clean clothes for your boys. You knew they had to be exhausted after running around socializing and serving others in those suits all evening.

You decided to leave the dress and tights on, enjoying the feel of them and laughing at yourself at the idea of being their private little maid to come home to.

You were in the middle of prepping dinner when you heard them get back. They were probably going to change and come say hello, so you figured you'd meet them in the kitchen.

"Hey boys!" You called out, letting them know where you were. "The tea party was wonderful, wasn't it?"

They didn't answer. Poor things, you thought, they were probably exhausted.

"Sorry if you guys are tired! I'll finish dinner up and put it up so you can have some in the morning!"

You yelped when a hand grabbed your hip and a body suddenly pushed flush against yours, pushing you forward against the counter.

"I am Emmet, and you have been verrry cruel, darling."

"Emmet, wha-" you gasped as he ground something hard against your ass through the dress.

"Wearing such a pretty dress all evening when we can't do anything about it." He hisses into your ear as another pair of hands suddenly push you back from the counter. Ingo pushes you into his brother as he crowds against your front, shoving one of his thighs through your legs and effectively trapping you between the two still-suited men.

"You show up looking like this, knowing we can't service you the way you deserve in front of all those people," Ingo groans, sounding halfway to broken already. "Please, madame, we've been so good this evening. Won't you let us have a taste?"

Any kind of answer leaves your mind as Emmet tugs your dress up and runs a hand over your tights-covered pussy, squeezing and toying with your mound as he places a nip to your ear.

"F-fuck, Ingo, Emmet, yes, p-please!" You beg, blood rushing out of your head as the warmth of their bodies scent of their spiced cologne surrounds you further.

"I think I know just how proceed, Ingo." Emmet chuckled darkly before breaking away to drag you to the living room. He sat down on the couch before quickly turning you around and pulling your body down on top of him, placing your ass against his lap while he snaked his hands under your knees and lifted.

You were suddenly so exposed. You felt yourself clench around nothing as Ingo, following from the kitchen, practically drooled at the sight of you with Emmet's arms locked around your legs, holding your core to Ingo's hungry eyes while Emmet's hard length dug into your back.

"Go on then, Ingo, we can't leave our mistress waiting," Emmet purred, urging his brother to action. "She went to all this trouble to wear these pretty little things. Why don't we show her how much we appreciate them?"

Ingo, still looking oh-so-put-together in his suit, tenderly placed a gloved hand over your clothed mound and traced his fingers around the shape, making you whimper. You felt your face flush as you both realized that just his feather-light touch already had you soaking through your the bottoms. Ingo was quick to notice your arousal, practically panting as he began teasing your more - harder, yes, but still not firm enough to give you any proper fiction. You tried canting your hips but Emmet's grip had you completely immobilized.

"You should wear these more often, darling," Emmet mumbled hotly into your ear. "Be our pretty little maid, let us service you how you need. I will let you use me as you see fit, mistress."

Your soft moan seems to break Ingo out of his spell, and you practically start drooling himself when you see him pull his cock out from his dress pants. It's long and thick, and you want nothing more than to let him hilt it inside you.

But he makes no move to strip you. Instead, he lets his clock slip between your legs and moans loudly as he begins to grind his dripping length against your slit over the tights.

And it's not enough, not nearly enough, but the slow drag of his head against your hole has you desperately trying to buck against him for more.

"Darling, you feel so perfect!" He groaned as he leaned forward to capture your lips in a kiss, catching his weight on his arms on either side of your head.

Still, each heavy drag of his cock comes with a rock against Emmet's cock below you, and you whimpered into Ingo's mouth as Emmet's hands left your legs to fall around Ingo's thighs and shifted up into your dress, sliding up your sides to fondle your breasts, squeezing and cupping them as Ingo sloppily fucked your mouth with his tongue. His kisses were wet, desperate, driving you out of breath as he moaned whorishly and sought his release against you. You loved every moment of it.

Your slick was absolutely soaked through your tights and now drops of Ingo's pre-cum began to mix with it. He was practically fucking you onto Emmet now, grabbing your thighs and forcing them apart to grind the head of his cock against your clit with each hump against you. You were so, so close, crying as Ingo babbled praise and nonsense against your lips, calling you beautiful, perfect, wonderful, theirs, theirs, theirs-

And then he was cumming, spilling his hot seed into your thighs with a cry and crushing you against Emmet, who bit your shoulder with a high-pitched whine as his brother's cock twitched against and painted your dress and tights in his spend and you came hard, clenching around nothing as Ingo mindlessly kept fucking his cock over your pussy eve as you were shaking from the sensitivity. Finally he pushed off of you both, staggering away as you fell limp. You didn't expect him to pull you up with him, only to drop you to the side as poor Emmet shot up to pin you underneath his weight.

"My turn," he hissed, before reaching down and ripping a hole into your tights. He wasted no time and sank his cock right into your soaking folds, shuddering at how you clenched around him.

"Fuck, Emmet, wait, it's too sensitive- Ah!" You cried, not having enough strength to slow his thrusts as he hammered into your hole like a man possessed.

Neither of you were going to last long, both so worked up and desperate from before. His suit was a wrinkled mess and you reached a hand up to grab his disheveled hair, desperate for something to ground yourself against his thick cock slamming into your walls and hitting that spot over and over again. As soon as you fisted your hand into his hair he was cumming with a shout, painting your insides and falling down against you. You didn't know if it was the weight of him over you, the press of a hard pants button insistent against your sensitive clit, the twitching of his cock, or the way he whimpered into your ear that had you crying out and locking your legs around you, milking his cock as he shuddered from the way you squeezed him dry.

All three of you fell into a numb pile on the couch, dinner all but forgotten as you worked to catch your breath.

Yeah, dinner could wait.

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

All the World's a Stage, and You're the Playwright

Hello! It's been a while. Life really catches up to you, huh?

In the interim, book 1 of one of my favorite interactive fiction novels just dropped, and I've been devouring it.

Speaking of which, this is set post book 1 of The Night Market, in the interim between book 1 and 2 (since 2 will be a wip for a while and I'm impatient and I adore this work so much).

If you're not entirely sure what's going on, use dream logic. Because I intended for this to be a very different piece and then Milo Next said "no I want to be sad and tormented".

There are SPOILERS in this for the ending of Book 1, and mentions of Child Death, and Death in general. I don't get explicitly into detail about it, I'm not that kind of a writer, but if those heavy topics aren't for you, I recommend avoiding this piece.

Ember/Blaze is my OC! They use any pronouns.

Without further ado....

-

He knew he was dreaming.

Milo remembered the acrid smell of blood in his nose, looking down at the crimson stain on his hands (or was it silver? Or chrome? Or an oil slick spill of color?) and seeing their wide eyes staring back at him accusingly. A pearlescent tear sliding down their cheek as they gasped their last.

It was a dream he'd had many times. One he'd have many times more.

He shuddered, holding them close. His handsome lover, reaching out and cupping his face, their lips trembling. The black smoke of their hair drifted out to mingle with the late-night mist of the gardens, almost as if desperate to cling to the fabric of this world.

The world he'd excised them from.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Apologizing the way he never would have in the waking world, baring his bleeding scarred heart.

In the dream, he always did this. Like two actors upon the stage, a single lantern dangling over them like a spotlight.

If he looked out, he knew he'd see a full amphitheater, their breath held tight with anticipation.

A sea of masks watching his mistakes over and over again, witnesses to his crime.

"Save him!" A voice shouted from the audience, soft and sweet even in its anger. A mask made of woven willow branches, with glistening sap tears that spilled out of the eyeholes.

"You deserve to rot for your crimes," another called, from out behind a featureless onyx mask cracked and gilded with silver, heartachingly beautiful in its kintsugi design.

A third raised its voice, powerful and commanding even amidst the crowd. "You didn't deserve her. You've killed us all." Eyes stared accusingly at him from behind an ornate devil's mask, the golden snarling mouth turned copper from lipstick made of blood.

As always, he braced himself for the last voice, the voice that never came.

The empty seat in a full theater that terrified him as much as he was desperate for it.

He stared down at the lifeless body in his arms. He had once embraced this body with his own, whispered frantic words in hidden alleyways mingling brightly with loving laughter.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If I could bring you back…" He held out a wooden heart, the red paint cracked and peeling. A prop on the stage of his dream. Red fabric slid down his chest in stop motion across the empty courtyard.

He knew how this would end. The curtains would draw on his false heart, the audience booing in dissatisfaction.

They wanted a proper ending. His body at the gallows, his crimes paid for.

They wouldn't get it.

He would relive his guilt again and again, night after night upon the stage for all the world to see.

Milo bowed his head and waited for the lights to dim.

That's it?

A voice slid across his mind, and he gasped, jerking his head up. Looking frantically around.

The dream always ended afterwards. No one else had lines.

Hands slid around his own, grasping the wooden heart.

Squeezing tightly, punishingly.

Don't you think I deserve more than this? A false caricature of your heart?

He looked down.

To his horror, his dead lover stared back at him. Hollow, empty eye sockets stared back at him, keeping his attention.

A perfect pair of lips moved, and he heard their voice become clear, as if he had been listening to them from underwater, and only now had begun to surface.

"Don't let the curtains draw, Milo. The audience deserves a proper ending. It is you who expects the Gallows." They tugged at the wooden heart emphatically, and he watched as it rotted and crumbled between his trapped hands.

"If you truly wish to change things, you must change the ending. Malcolm has always been the Gatekeeper. You knew this from the start." Ember reached out, cupping his face. Her hand was incredibly warm, almost searingly so.

"Become the Storyteller, Milo. Make the ending your own. After all, I'm not the only one who you made a promise to. I'm not the only one you left behind."

They glanced out to the audience, and he followed their gaze.

A lantern slid down from an invisible ceiling, a spotlight on a single seat.

Malcolm's seat.

Milo's eyes widened with horror.

Wood became metal, and the corpse in his arms grew warm, hot with life. Skin became unbroken, and cheekbones swelled, eyes forming and staring at a spot in Milo's warehouse.

On the woven circular rug in the epicenter of his room, sat a little girl clutching a stuffed cow. She watched in anticipation, a child listening to a story told by their parents.

Milo's hands trembled.

He had forgotten.

No- he had purposefully pushed thoughts of her away.

He'd left her behind when he ran away, and here, in his dreams, he couldn't run any longer.

Ember's hands squeezed around his own, and he glanced back at the man in his arms.

"She deserves a happy ending, Milo Next. Not everything has to be a tragedy. We adults soak in the jaded pain of our lives, we sometimes forget the children we once were. We have to teach them to hope. That death is not the result of punishment, or despair." He nodded towards Ever. "That her death may have been frightening, but it is not the end. Death is just another part of life. The cycle that always begins again."

Ember looked up at him, warm amber eyes flickering like lantern lights-

No. Like a blaze of fire. Burning brighter, with no intention of stopping.

"Show her, Milo. Show her this is not the end. Show her that you can be kind. She needs you. She needs to hear it."

Milo shuddered, feeling tears beginning to leak down his face. "But death is scary. It is the end. How can I lie to her? How can I tell a kid that sometimes people die?"

Ember, no, Blaze laughed softly. "It is adults who are afraid of death. Children don't know to be afraid until we teach them." Their gaze was sorrowful. "And sometimes, children die. Lovers die. People die. It is our duty to ease them into the inevitable. To twist the story into something hopeful. Show her, Milo."

Another voice spoke up over his shoulder. The voice he had been dreading from the start.

"Show her that death is not the end." A hand grasped his shoulder tightly. "Show her that even you know how to forgive and be kind. Show her your heart."

Milo didn't look at Malcolm. He couldn't. Not when his gaze remained captured by Blaze.

Tears streamed down his face, and finally, he sighed.

"Okay," he whispered. "Okay."

Milo Next reached into his chest, pulling out his bleeding heart. Beating wildly with the frantic pulse of life.

The audience in the theater gasped.

Ever leaned forward, her eyes wide with wonder, with the innocence of children.

In the garden, in the still quiet by the fountain, he leaned down.

Just the two of them.

Blaze and Milo.

A corpse and its murderer.

He pushed his beating heart into the keyhole of Blaze's chest, and watched it be swallowed whole.

"I'm sorry," he said. Milo watched as color began to bloom in those cheeks, filling pink lips with life. A chest that began to rise and fall, as it had done so many times before.

"I'm sorry," he repeated firmly, trying not to choke on the words. "I love-"

"-you."

Milo woke up with that last word on his lips, and gasped, sitting upright in his makeshift bed. His chest heaved, and he clutched at it, feeling for the frantic beat he'd known his entire life.

It was still there.

Hastily he scrubbed the tears away from his face, night sweat drying on his skin, and felt something smear across his face.

He pulled his hand away.

Silver/red/chrome/oilslick blood still lingered on his fingertips.

In the silence of the waking dawn, Milo Next wept.

[draconicocelot]

By the Fireplace

Summary: Jesse is struggling to handle the massive responsibility that comes with the formation of a new town, luckily, she meets a certain individual who just might make the perfect intern.

Hello teeny tiny MCSM fandom skjhdf, have an origin story for how Jesse and Radar meet

(Involves a few of my own personal headcanons for flavor but, ya know, MCSM is a sandbox for the fans now :,,) )

Beacontown. It had a nice ring to it, and an even more pleasant interior. It was a town built from the rubble of a great disaster, and yet those that inhabited it acted as though nothing bad had happened. They treated every day as a new beginning, as an opportunity to let their creativity shine. With the lack of rules against building privileges, no two buildings looked the same, and neither did the residents. In the early days of its formation, everything was bare and bland, but as with everything worth investing time into, it would show its true colors soon enough.

As Jesse walked through the gates of town, coming back from an evening expedition to gather supplies, she was greeted by warm smiles and genuine shouts of glee at her return. Half a year ago barely anyone even knew her name, and now they sang her praises in the streets. It was a rather jarring transition, but one that Jesse embraced with gratitude and humility. Handing off the bag that was thrown over her shoulder, Olivia approached her carrying a clipboard. 

“Jesse! How did the trip go?” She questioned, watching as one of the redstone engineers she brought with her carried the bag away to share the resources amongst the teams who needed them. 

“Not too bad, managed to gather lots of wood and cobblestone,” as she glanced over at the houses lining the streets, she noted the lack of color and decor, “I know we want to let everyone design their own homes, but with repairs still in place I think we need to focus on the necessary construction elements first.” Olivia nodded as she wrote something down, using the quill to gesture at the other end of town. 

“Good idea, they’re actually working on extending the border as we speak! There are a lot of people who want to live here, Jesse,” Olivia’s tone was optimistic, but her name was said with a hint of caution. Jesse knew her responsibilities kept growing with each passing day, that she would soon have to send others out on these resource runs so that she could stay back and monitor the repairs being made to town. 

“Yeah… I noticed,” Jesse groaned, running her fingers anxiously through her hair. “You uh, you sure you don’t want to stay here?” Olivia huffed out a half-laugh, patting Jesse’s shoulder sympathetically. 

“You know my place is in Redstonia, but I do think you need to hire some help.” Jesse knew she was right, but how would she go through a proper hiring process while people are still just trying to find a plot of land to build their homes on. It was nighttime she worried about the most, when everyone whose homes were not complete had to stay in a temporary shelter to avoid the mobs that might slip through the gates. She shuddered at the thought of someone getting hurt because her defenses had not been assembled properly. “Jesse? You still in there?” 

“Hm? Oh, yeah… sorry… Got a lot on my mind is all,” she replied, “I know you’re busy with your own leadership tasks so, thank you for stopping by to help us. You know as soon as Beacontown is up to livable standards I’ll be heading over with a team of my own to help you.” Olivia smiled softly, putting her hand over her heart. 

“It’s no problem Jess, anything for a friend,” Olivia clipped the quill to her board before looking towards the last house she had been standing near. It was more of a foundation at the moment, but her builders had already started laying down the stone needed to secure the basement. “Speaking of which, I’d better make sure my guys are on track. I’ll check back in before we settle in for the night.”

“Thanks Liv, and let them know they’re welcome to any spare resources once every base build is complete.” Jesse called as Olivia headed back to her sector. With the number of residents moving in constantly growing, not only did the negotiation of land have to be settled but the resources needed to be designated in proper quantities for the plans everyone comes up with. In order to allow everyone to build their own type of home, there needed to be guidelines for how large the space could be and how expensive it would be for extra materials required for complex builds. Her head spun just thinking about the amount of paperwork she had to complete. 

On her way back to her temporary cabin, a rather small building that had just enough in it to keep her comfortable, she briefly spoke with many citizens. A lot of them were thanking her for stepping up and insisting on creating such an accepting place to live, while others requested certain things from her which she had to write down on the fly. Sometimes she missed the simpler days, and busy nights like this were the main reason why. 

However, as she reached her destination, she noticed someone was sitting with their back up against the far wall of her cabin. Everyone else was bustling about, getting to know their new neighbors and concocting unique creations to share with one another. Whoever this was seemed to be rather forlorn, their head resting against their knees as they sat in a fetal position. Jesse tilted her head slightly, noticing this person was sniffling. She approached as quietly as possible, hoping not to alarm them. Clearing her throat first, she quietly called out, “Hey, are you okay?” The individual jolted in shock, their head whirling around as they curled further in on themselves. 

“O-Oh my gosh… I-I-I’m so sorry!” Jesse could tell he wasn’t past his teens, shivering like a leaf in an emerald green hoodie, his glasses tilted to the side as he attempted to wipe away the tears in his eyes using his sleeve. “S-So embarrassing…” he muttered. 

“There’s no need to be sorry, or embarrassed,” Jesse took another step forward, about three steps away from where the boy was hunkered down, and got down on one knee. “What’s your name?” She figured an introduction would be appropriate, “My name is-”

“Jesse…” He interrupted, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth, “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have s-spoke over you…” Jesse made a pained, commiserative expression as she sat down instead, crossing one leg over the other so she was level with him. 

“It’s alright, I should have assumed you knew who I was,” Jesse nodded in his direction for him to go on. He shifted uncomfortably, looking down at the ground before he spoke.

“My name’s… Radar,” realizing he was averting eye contact, as if he had been scolded by an imaginary force, he looked back up and met her eyes. “I-It is an honor, to m-meet you, miss!” Jesse released a pssh from between pursed lips. 

“No need to call me miss, just Jesse is fine,” she observed his body language for a moment longer before deciding it was safe to move on. “Now, what are you doing over here all by yourself, Radar? Did you just move in?” Radar recoiled slightly, but managed to muster up a response sooner than before. 

“I uh… technically don’t live here,” he glanced at the front gates, “I just got here earlier today but…” he hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Radar, if you don’t live here yet, I’m not just going to kick you out,” Jesse phrased her words gingerly, hoping not to upset him further. He was clearly shaken up about something, but she wouldn’t get any information if she scared him off. Radar threw his hood up over his head before admitting why he was hiding. 

“I-I don’t have the emeralds to p-pay for the land…” Jesse pondered for a moment, searching for the right words. 

“Did you come here with anyone else?” Radar shook his head, “Not a sibling… or a parent?” She could hear him whimper under his breath, looking up only slightly so that the top half of his face could be seen from under his hood.

“The… Th-The Witherstorm…they… they didn’t make it…” Jesse’s pupils constricted as she absorbed the horror of that statement. This poor kid, alone and afraid, now left without his parents because of the monster she destroyed. That damned command block destroyed the lives of so many people, took the loved ones from those who survived and left others with unhealable scars. Using her arms to push herself forward, she sat directly across from him, slowly reaching a hand in his direction. 

“Hey, it’s… it’s gonna be alright,” she spoke softly, allowing him to see her hand before she placed it on his upper back. He was still badly shaking, and she couldn’t quite tell if it was from the cool night air or his fear of being thrown from one of the only places within miles where he could stay under a roof. “I’m going to help you, Radar. You hear me?” Radar fully lifted his head, his big red eyes still flowing with tears as he attempted to speak. 

“Y-Y-You will…? R-Really? You won’t k-kick me out?” 

“Of course not, I have plenty of room in my cabin,” She smiled softly, rubbing his back up and down, “besides, I’m in need of a new intern. Think you could help me manage some of the construction around here?” Radar couldn’t contain his relief, throwing himself forward as Jesse braced herself. She managed to catch him as they both fell back, Jesse holding herself up with one arm and embracing him with the other. 

“I promise! I-I promise I’ll do good! I’ll do whatever it t-takes to help you a-and the rest of Beacontown!” Jesse closed her eyes for a moment, squeezing Radar before helping them both back to their feet. 

“I’m sure you will, buddy. Why don’t you head inside and sit by the fireplace, your hands are ice cold.” Jesse suggested, reaching down and fixing Radar’s glasses that were lying askew. Radar had his arms wrapped around himself as he nodded excitedly, walking towards the cabin door. 

“Thank you, Jesse…really. You’re a r-real life saver,” he added before heading inside. Jesse relieved a sigh, the memories of the battle with the Witherstorm flooding into her mind. She thought about poor Ellegard, about all those townspeople who she couldn’t save as they attempted to flee, she wondered if Radar’s parents were there… 

She thought about Reuben, about her best friend and most loving companion. The Witherstorm destroyed so much, but it didn’t destroy the light within all of those citizens who now inhabited Beacontown. It didn’t stop them from fighting back, from rebuilding their lives from the ground up. She was proud of each and every one of them, and hoped this new chapter of their lives would blossom into something special.

Even though everyone treated Jesse differently, like an idol to look up to, she had to admit she didn’t feel very different. Before becoming the Hero in Residence, no one seemed to care about the young bookworm who enjoyed playing with her pet pig and going on simple adventures. Many people didn’t even know who she really was behind the wall of popularity and fame that followed the defeat of the Witherstorm and the dismantlement of the Old Builders. They don’t know she snores when she sleeps, they don’t know she used to skip rocks on the river near her treehouse, but most of all, many people didn’t even know she was an orphan herself.

[writing-intheundercroft]

When We're Older || Caulfield House

AO3 Link

Word Count: 10,785

Chapter Rating: T

A/N: I've neglected updating my long fic on tumblr, so posting some chapters that have come out in the last two months!

December 1892

“Do I look alright?” Sebastian hesitated, staring at himself in the mirror. 

“Sebastian, for the millionth time, I am blind.” Ominis gasped exasperatedly, leaning his head into his palm. 

Sebastian fidgeted as Mr. Hill fitted his tailcoat.  A dinner jacket was lying on the table next to them as he pinned the lapels down. 

“And you’re quite sure I need both?” Sebastian asked again.  

“Quite sure,” Mr. Hill said, waving his wand. A perfectly spaced parade of pins flew past him, pinning exactly where Mr. Hill had marked his jacket. “You can never know with muggles–they are rather formal.”

“Besides, you’ll need both soon anyways.” Ominis reminded him. “For London, after graduation.”

“Right,” Sebastian mumbled.  He crunched the numbers in his mind; two bespoke suits would cost quite a few galleons, and with him being gone for the holidays, he wouldn’t have any extra shifts at the Three Broomsticks to replenish his funds.  That would mean pulling overtime once the spring term had started, on top of studying for the NEWT exams and taking care of Theo.

“Quite a big trip, eh?” Mr. Hill smirked. “Meeting the parents.”

Sebastian flushed horribly; he wished he’d never said anything. “It’s for the holidays,” he mumbled. “Ominis is coming as well.”

Ominis , Sebastian thought, who already had multiple dinner jackets and tailcoats.  Sebastian had tried to squeeze into Ominis’s spare jacket, but it had been too tight.  While Sebastian had been a little annoyed that Ominis was also invited to meet Lord Caulfield over the holidays, he couldn’t help feeling relieved that he would have a familiar face around, and one that was well trained in matters of high society.

“It’ll be great fun,” Ominis declared. “You’ll meet Theo’s father, we’ll have a proper Christmas, and be back home to celebrate the New Year in Feldcroft.”

Sebastian swallowed thickly. The trip was a bigger deal than he’d let on; while Theo was ecstatic to finally show the boys her home, Sebastian had other things in mind.  Given the nature of their relationship and how far things had progressed, Sebastian knew meeting her father was long overdue.  He had every intention of falling on one knee the minute they graduated from Hogwarts, and in that case, had about six months to plan a proposal.  

First, it required a certain man’s permission.

“I think that should do it.” Mr. Hill said firmly, brushing Sebastian’s shoulders. “Take a look–a fine young man.”

Sebastian stared at himself in the mirror, quite shocked.  The only suit he’d ever owned was a tartan jacket that Solomon had begrudgingly bought him when he was fourteen; it no longer fit, long shoved in the back of Sebastian’s trunk at home.  He’d worn the school suit every day of his life, of course, but that was a uniform.  In the mirror, wearing a black wool tailcoat and full length pants, Sebastian saw a grown man.

If he squinted hard enough, he might see his father.

Sebastian appraised himself in the mirror; the pants were long, touching the tops of the shiny shoes Ominis had insisted were necessary for a formal look.  The wool coat nipped his waist in tight, and made his shoulders look broad.  Mr. Hill had insisted on a dark green tie, one that complimented their house colors.  He would need several shirts, starched and ironed daily, to swap out during the trip. Sebastian had entertained the idea of another colored jacket, but seeing the price of the fabric on the bolt, he hesitated.  Any further wardrobe purchases would have to be made further down the line, when he’d gotten back to work.

“I need a haircut,” Sebastian groaned. That would also cost extra.

“A shave too, I might add.” Mr. Hill chuckled. “Alright, down with you–I’ll make final adjustments and have the packages delivered to the school for you before you leave.”

Sebastian stepped down from the podium, and began stripping behind the changing screen.  Quickly changing back into his well-worn trousers and soft knit jumper, Sebastian finally felt at ease.  He was himself again, not playing pretend as a grown up. He couldn’t imagine wearing a suit to work every day–he hoped curse breakers didn’t have a specified uniform.

Sebastian and Ominis walked back to the school, trudging through the wet streets.  They’d just made it through their end of term exams, yet the weather was so mild, the snow hadn’t stuck to the ground.  It was still chilly enough to call for their coats, which they wrapped tightly around themselves to fight the wind.

“Are you planning on asking him?” Ominis inquired.

“Asking who?” 

Ominis rolled his milky blue eyes. “Planning on asking Theo’s father for her hand.”

Sebastian took in a sharp breath; there was no hiding secrets from his best friend. “I am. Probably.” he kicked a rock on the path. “If the timing is right.” 

Ominis let out a sigh, smiling into his Slytherin scarf. “Who would’ve thought, Sebastian Sallow, a married man at eighteen.”

Sebastian bit back his grin. “I love her, Ominis.” It was a simple sentence, nothing else needed to portray how he felt.

Ominis quite uncharacteristically threw his arm around Sebastian, drawing him closer. “I’m proud of you, you know that?” he said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Get off, you big sap,” Sebastian complained; he did so with a broad smile on his face.

“I’m being serious,” Ominis snorted. “Look at you–-how far you’ve come.  You know, when we first met Theo, I thought she was the worst thing to ever happen to you.  But now…Merlin, I don’t know where you’d be without her.” he admitted.

“I’m not quite sure either.” Sebastian merely shrugged.

“Do you have…er, a ring?” Ominis asked.

Sebastian kicked another stone off the path. “Not yet,” he admitted sheepishly.  He had taken a look through Mr. Hill’s meager jewelry selection; nothing seemed nearly fancy enough to pass as an engagement ring. After quite a mortifying conversation with Sirona, ending with her promising not to spill the beans, Sebastian learned that most wizarding folk got their wedding jewelry made bespoke–something he certainly couldn’t afford after having purchased an entire new wardrobe to meet Theo’s father.

“What about your mother’s ring?” Ominis asked softly. 

Sebastian chewed on his lower lip. “I’ve thought about it…but I know Anne wouldn’t be happy with me.” 

It had been an unspoken promise between the twins that Anne would receive their mother’s engagement ring. She’d been enamored with the glittering emerald since they were toddlers, and it had pained Anne to let Solomon put the bauble in their Gringotts vault.  Had Anne not protested so hard, he was sure Solomon would’ve sold it to pay for their school supplies.  Sebastian had already received his father’s golden pocket watch, so it really was only fair that Anne got to keep their mother’s ring for herself.

“I could bring it up with Anne, if that helps.” Ominis offered.

“It would only upset her,” Sebastian reminded him. “I appreciate your offer though.  Do you know when you’ll see her next?” he inquired.  He couldn’t hold back the hopeful tone in his voice; after finding out Theo was also seeing Anne, he eagerly awaited the day she would accept his presence.  

Ominis licked his lips. “Actually, I’m seeing her tomorrow.  Wanted to give her some presents before we leave.” 

Sebastian sighed, nuzzling his face deeper into his scarf. “Oh.”

“I know you’re disappointed, but she will come around.” Ominis promised. “I know it.”

Sebastian only shrugged, glad that Ominis couldn’t see the frown on his face. “I know she will.”

“And there’s a cart of sweets from Honeydukes?  I’m stuck riding in a wooden wagon, while you lot are traveling in the lap of luxury.” Sebastian scoffed, leaning back into the plush seats of their cabin.  Theo was seated next to him, her feet draped across his lap.  Ominis, who could sleep literally anywhere, was curled up on the bench opposite them.

Theo grinned, taking a bite of her licorice wand. “We have a much longer journey than you do.” she reminded him. 

“He has a point,” Ominis offered, leaning his head into his hand. “We could just take thestral carriages. Would be a lot faster.”

Theo winced, shuddering at the memory of her last thestral drawn carriage ride. “Don’t remind me.”

“Anyways, tell us everything we need to know.” Sebastian cleared his throat, changing the subject away from Theo’s horrible experience. “Who we’re meeting, where we’re staying, everything.”

Theo fell back against the bench, twirling the licorice wand around. “So it’ll be a rather small affair, just you two, Great-aunt Gertie, and dad.” she paused for a moment. “Perhaps my Aunt Elizabeth, and my cousin, James.”

Sebastian stiffened slightly.  It had been a long time since Theo had mentioned her distant cousin; he knew that Theo’s father favored him, and that there had been some expectation in the past that he and Theo might court one another for the sake of the family.  He had no idea what he looked like, or anything about him, really–any discussion of James had ceased once their relationship had taken off.

Theo started fumbling with the ribbons on her dress. “It’s silly, but we dress up for dinner.  And at one point, I really would love to take both of you ice skating.” she said, twirling the ribbon in her fingers. “You two are sharing a room, I think.  I had Nan confirm it.”

“Nan?” Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My governess,” Theo admitted. “She and Aunt Gertie are the only ones who know you’re coming.”

Sebastian felt his heart beating out of his chest in panic. “Your father doesn’t know?”

Theo rolled her eyes, her feet falling from his lap as she sat upright. “He knows I’m bringing home two friends.” she shrugged. “He doesn’t care for specifics.”

Sebastian looked out the window, watching the snow fall.  He couldn’t help feeling irked at Theo’s nonchalance–it was one thing for her not to talk about him to her father over the summer, but they were serious now.  Serious to the point where Sebastian was ready to ask her father for her hand in marriage, yet she didn’t think it important enough to mention that she was bringing him home for the holidays.

“Excuse me,” Sebastian grumbled, pushing himself up from the bench.  He could feel Theo’s eyes roving over him as he exited the cabin, rushing down towards the lavatory. With the door shut behind him, he shut his eyes, trying to steady his breath.

She loved him, Sebastian thought to himself. They’d been together for nearly a year now, and they’d shared so much during that short time. Theo had seen him at his very worst (he shuddered at that memory) and was always encouraging him to be his best. Yet even as he reminded himself of just how much Theo loved him, he felt the tiny seed of doubt planted in the pit of his stomach.  

Sebastian splashed water on his face, shaking out his anxiety.  He slid the lavatory door open, yelping at the sight of Theo standing right in front of him.

“I did try to stop her,” Ominis yelled from the hallway. “I’m going back before someone steals our seats.” 

“What is it?” Theo huffed, crossing her arms. Despite his annoyance at her, Sebastian couldn’t deny how exquisite she looked. Her plaid dress brought out the warmth in her skin, a pretty little bow attached at the end of her braid.  She was wearing the maroon dueling gloves Sebastian had bought her for her eighteenth birthday–a meager offering, he’d thought, but she’d worn them every day since.

“It’s nothing,” Sebastian insisted, pushing past her. “Let’s go back to Ominis.” 

“It’s not nothing,” Theo grumbled, tugging on his arm. “Tell me.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, turning to face her; she was pouting, big round eyes staring up at him. “It’s just…you didn’t tell your father I was coming.” Sebastian strained. “I don’t even know if he knows about me. About us .”

Theo chewed on her lower lip. “He knows you exist,” she admitted. “That there’s someone important to me.”

“Does he know just how important ?” Sebastian grumbled. “Important like a friend, or like a lover?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Theo insisted, tugging on his arm. “All that matters is how I feel about you. You know my father could care less about me, my personal life.”

“I care,” Sebastian argued. “I care that he knows. That I have every intention of spending the rest of my life with you.  Can you say the same?”  The words came out of his mouth before he could stop, immediately regretting them.

Theo released his arms, clearly affronted. “I want to spend Christmas with you, Sebastian.  With you, in my home.  Isn’t that enough?”

It wasn’t , Sebastian thought, but he didn’t want to fight with her on the train.  Adelaide and Poppy had already opened their cabin door, looking out into the hall to see who was making all the noise.  Sebastian turned Theo, whose eyes were glassy with tears.

“Let’s just forget about it,” Sebastian insisted. “And go back to Ominis, okay?”

She nodded, blinking back her tears.  Sebastian didn’t miss Poppy, mouthing a question to Theo.  

“I’m fine, Poppy.” Theo declared. “Dust in the eye.”

It was hard to enjoy the rest of the train ride to London; Sebastian felt as if he were sitting on eggshells next to Theo, who had her arms crossed. The trio eventually disembarked at Kings Cross Station, following Theo as she guided them out of the station, dragging their trunks behind them as she searched for her father’s carriage. A kindly old footman yelled out to her, and Theo charged towards him, grinning from ear to ear. 

Despite his nerves, Sebastian couldn’t help tipping his head towards the window as they rode through London.  Theo excitedly pointed out her favorite things as they passed–a dressmaker her mother used to like, a particularly good tea shop, a bookstore she wanted to take the boys to before they went home for the new year.  He watched her reflection in the window, relishing the wide smile on her face. No matter how irked he’d been, any feelings of annoyance were washed away at the sight of her twinkling with happiness.

At the same time, his hand absentmindedly flew to his pocket, making sure his wallet was inside. He’d already splurged on his new clothes and Christmas presents for Theo and Ominis; he hoped the exchange rate for pounds at Gringotts would be favorable. 

The carriage pulled into a residential neighborhood; the houses were stately and grand, each decorated lavishly from the outside for the holidays. Sebastian gulped, hoping the two suits he’d bought were fine enough for the occasion.  They eventually came to a halt in front of a red bricked manor, lined with Christmas garland. Every window had candles lit in it, and he could see the shadow of a large Christmas tree in the window.

“Dad sure went overboard,” Theo rolled her eyes as the carriage door opened. “Come, let’s get inside.”

The trio clambered out of the carriage; they’d had to be quite creative in concealing Ominis’s wand considering it was his first foray in the muggle world. In anticipation of their trip, Professor Weasley had helped Theo conjure a cane that could conceal Ominis’s wand, while still providing him his echolocation spell for guidance.  Sebastian held his arm out for the blond as they walked towards the door–he still seemed shaky.

Sebastian blinked heavily as they walked through the doors. He’d never been in a house so grand before in his life; it seemed every inch of the walls were covered in large tapestries or grand pieces of artwork.  He handed their cloaks over to a maid, rubbing his sweaty palms on his new wool trousers. Theo was hugging an older woman, gesturing for the boys to come closer.

“Nan, this is Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt,” Theo introduced them. “My two very best friends.”

Friends , Sebastian thought bitterly. He had to have made a face, considering Theo was glaring at him.

“A pleasure to meet you boys,” the older woman smiled at them. “Everyone has been quite excited to meet Miss Caulfield’s friends from school.”

“Fantastic to meet you,” Sebastian smiled in return, dipping his head in reverence as he shook her hand. Nan shook Ominis’s hand as well, but her beaming eyes lingered on Sebastian as Theo tucked her arm into his.

“Teddie!” A masculine voice boomed.

“Teddie?” Ominis asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Theo and Sebastian turned their heads to the stairs; a thin man walked down the stairs, his strawberry blond hair pushed back. He looked to be the same age as them, if not a little older.   He traipsed down the stairs, smiling as Theo hugged him.

“My cousin, James.” Theo announced. “You can call him Jimmy.”

“Always a treat when Teddie comes home.” James smiled broadly, his arm around Theo’s shoulder.

Sebastian had felt the sting of jealousy in the past, watching Theo interact with Garreth and Isaac before they’d started dating.  That feeling was unmatched compared to the one he felt now, watching her act so comfortably around a stranger, knowing it was once suggested the two of them marry. Only Ominis’s hand on his shoulder drew him out of his discomfort.

“Jimmy, this is Ominis and Sebastian.”  Theo said excitedly. 

“Nice to meet you both.” James said kindly, extending his hand to Sebastian.  

“Likewise,” Sebastian feigned. He stood up a little straighter, feeling quite pleased with himself when he realized he stood at least an inch taller than him.

James turned his attention to Theo. “I know you’ll hate it, but your father has arranged somewhat of a small dinner party tonight for your birthday.” he winced. 

Theo rolled her eyes. “Of course he has.  Who is invited?”

James looked over at Sebastian and Ominis hesitantly. “He asked me to bring Edward and John–must have assumed the friends you were bringing for the holidays were young ladies, so the party will be rather unbalanced.” 

Sebastian turned his head to Ominis, who was fighting off the urge to laugh.  He elbowed him rather sharply, causing the blind boy to cough.

“Speak of the devil,” Theo muttered under her breath.

A man walked into the foyer with a woman on each arm; the younger was dressed in a high necked gown, her red hair pinned atop her head.  Aunt Elizabeth, he reminded himself in his head. The other, much older, was quite petite.  She had pure white hair, and kind smile lines around her face. It had to be Theo’s Great-Aunt Gertrude, who she’d spoken quite fondly of.

The man himself was a surprise.  Theo rarely spoke about her father; based on the complaints, Sebastian had imagined him to be quite cold and austere. To his surprise, Lord Caulfield was neither.  He was quite a formidable man, tall and broad, sweeping Theo into a large hug.  His black hair, lined with streaks of silver, was tidily done, with a thick mustache and beard. Sebastian made note of their similarities–he and Theo shared the same sharp chin, and he was the source of her honey brown eyes.

“Dad,” Theo said dryly, patting him on the shoulder. He let her down, and she smoothed over the wrinkles he’d left on her dress. “Happy Christmas.”

“Teddie, so happy to have you home this year.” His voice boomed. “Now, where are your friends?”

“Here,” Theo turned to the boys. “Father, this is Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow.”

Sebastian noticed the glint in his eyes, and the way his lips downturned; clearly, he was caught off guard that the schoolmates Theo had brought home for the holidays were in fact, boys. He gave Theo a stern look, and she merely shrugged.

Nevertheless, he politely held out his hand, shaking both of theirs in return.

“Theodore Caulfield, a pleasure to meet you both. Ted, if we’re to be friends.”

Sebastian nearly choked. “Theodore,” he repeated. He remembered Theo telling him early in their relationship how they’d assumed she was a boy, and that her mother had feminized the name upon her birth. It made sense–she was named after her father.

“That’s the name.” Lord Caulfield gave him a composed smile, but his eyes said otherwise. 

Sebastian looked over at Ominis again; the blind boy had a hint of a smile on his face, clearly preparing to make fun of Theo for sharing a name with her father. His eyes found Theo’s, which were quite threatening. Don’t you dare, she mouthed. 

“Theodora, I didn’t realize the school you attended was…co-educational,” her Aunt Elizabeth said coolly. “How modern.”

Theo gave her one of her cutting smiles (clearly, Sebastian thought, another trait earned from her father). “It’s a very good school.”

“Perhaps Miss Caulfield should show the boys to their rooms.” Nan interrupted. “Everyone will need time to prepare for dinner.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea–” Lord Caulfield interjected, eyes flitting over at Sebastian.  

“Nonsense, they’re fine.”  Nan tutted. “Now, children, be off.”

“Come along,” Theo said loudly, grabbing Sebastian’s hand.  She laced her fingers through his, and Sebastian gulped. Theo wove her arm through Ominis’s elbow, bidding everyone goodbye as she dragged the boys up the stairs.

They walked down a long corridor, up some stairs, and down another hallway.  Theo chattered on about the history of the house, but Sebastian felt so overwhelmed, every fact flew straight above his head.  He used to hate when the other Slytherins like Lestrange and Parkinson called him rural, but he’d never felt more like a simple farm boy ever in his life.

Theo pushed open a bedroom door; the walls were a pale blue, with two double beds next to one another. “I wrote to Nan, picked the room myself. Close to the back stairs, in case you need me. My room is the one right below.” she grinned, sitting on one of the beds. “Come over,” she urged.  

Sebastian felt his feet drag on the rug as he collapsed onto the soft bed. He nearly groaned at the feeling; he was used to the straw mattress in Feldcroft, and the old beds at Hogwarts.  This one was plush, luxurious. He scooched up the bed, letting his head fall into Theo’s lap.  Her dark hair tickled his cheeks as she looked down on him. 

Ominis pulled his wand out, sighing in relief as the tip lit red. “Oh, it's so hard to not use magic.  I have no idea how they manage.” he sighed, waving his wand at the door to shut it. 

Sebastian rolled over to let Theo out from underneath him. “So, Teddie?”

“Old family nickname,” she rolled her eyes. “Ted and Teddie.” she spat. 

“Your father seems nice.” Ominis shrugged.  The valets had brought up their luggage, leaving them shut at Theo’s instruction.  Ominis opened his, waving his wand to hang his clothes in the wardrobe.

“He’s always nice to strangers,” Theo crossed her arms. “Bit surprised he didn’t lose his mind when he realized I hadn’t brought home girls.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Sebastian huffed. “I want to make a good impression on him.”

“And I’ve already told you that doesn’t matter.” Theo reminded him gently. “It’s not up to him.”

Ominis shrugged. “I’m just saying, you always make him sound so distant.  He seemed rather excited to have you home.”

Theo shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t know him the way I do.” her eyes narrowed.

Sebastian rolled off the plush bed to hang his clothes.  His trunk was considerably smaller than Ominis’s, and he again hoped that his two suits would suffice for the week.  He opened the ornate wardrobe, only to find there were clothes hanging already.  Another two suits, and some more new slacks and shirts.

“Mr. Hill told me you went suit shopping this week.” Theo said uneasily. “I know we can be rather formal–so I thought I’d get you some spares.”

Sebastian felt his face burn red with embarrassment.  While he was quite surprised at the gesture, he couldn’t help feeling a bit put off. He’d spent nearly half his savings on the two suits he had brought, and it was mortifying that Theo had spent the same amount of coin without question.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Sebastian muttered. He pulled out one of the suits; it was a dark blue, almost black fabric, the one he’d been eyeing at the shop.  He hadn’t had enough money to indulge in anything other than black wool, and Mr. Hill had probably caught him admiring the blue fabric on the bolt. 

“Blue, your favorite.” Theo murmured.  While Sebastian was admiring the suit, she had rolled off the bed and sidled up next to him. “Don’t be mad at me.”

Sebastian looked at his girlfriend with her pleading eyes. It was impossible to stay mad at her for long. He sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It’s too much,” he urged. 

“Consider it an early Christmas present.” Theo said, a small smile on her face.  She backed away towards the door. “Now get dressed–they ring the bell when it’s time to come down for dinner.”

Once the door shut behind her, Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh.  He looked over at Ominis, who was testing out his own plush bed. 

“Quite out of our comfort zone, aren’t we?” Sebastian asked wearily.

Ominis gave him a sympathetic smile. “It’ll be fine. A week with muggles, what could go wrong?”

A lot, Sebastian thought.  He was already getting off on the wrong foot with her father, and it seemed like Theo was determined to irk the man at every chance. Sebastian wasn’t sure how he’d get the courage to get Lord Caulfield alone, but he knew it had to be done.

Sebastian looked back at the wardrobe, pulling the dark blue dinner jacket out.  Flipping the coat flap open, he saw some green stitching on the left flap; over his heart, the initials TC . He let out a surprised squeak, touched by the gesture.

“What has you so chuffed?” Ominis asked curiously.

Sebastian slid on the jacket over his shirt, examining himself in the mirror.  He held his hand over the left lapel, where the letters were. Despite his nerves, the green stitching gave him some comfort.  No matter how the week went, Theo had given her his heart.  She’d done everything in the past two years for him alone.

“Nothing,” Sebastian bit back his smile.

“That was a disaster,” Sebastian groaned. Dinner had ended; the ladies were moving into the drawing room for a glass of wine.  Theo’s father had invited the boys to join him in his study for cigars, along with her cousin and his friends. 

Ominis scratched his head. “Does it help if I say things can only go up from here?”

Sebastian banged his forehead against the wooden walls. “No.”

“I’ll shut up then.” Ominis pursed his lips. “Come, we mustn’t keep her father waiting.”

Sebastian trudged behind Ominis, pouting.  Sebastian was normally charm personified; he’d flattered his way out of dozens of detentions, and had a reputation as one of the most charismatic students at Hogwarts.  However, sitting across from Lord Caulfield at the dinner table with Theo’s hand on his leg underneath it, Sebastian found it hard to form coherent thoughts.  When Aunt Elizabeth had inquired about his background, he’d merely blurted out Feldcroft and how sheep was its main trade.  When her great-aunt asked what his aspirations were post-graduation, Sebastian had frozen entirely–they were muggles, how could he describe curse breaking in a meaningful way? 

Theo, on the other hand, had a simple response. “Banking,” she said, patting his leg reassuringly.

Sebastian and Ominis walked in through the door; James was standing, his two friends seated on the leather couch across him. They were quite bored, rather put off at the lack of available young ladies at the dinner table.

“Welcome,” James said kindly. “Scotch?”

“Certainly.” Sebastian said, eagerly taking the glass of liquor.  The alcohol stung his lips as he sipped, eyeing the room.  Lord Caulfield was suspiciously missing.

“Uncle Ted just ran off for the moment,” James murmured, placing a glass in Ominis’s hand. “You’re doing well–he can be rather intimidating. I'm a bit surprised that Theo didn’t do more to prepare you.”

“You know, then?” Sebastian looked down at the glass, swirling it.

“Theo told me about you two last summer.” James snorted. “She came home from her week long trip to Madrid looking a little too pale, so I knew something was up.” He smiled earnestly at Sebastian. “I’m very happy for you two.”

Sebastian blushed. “Thank you.” he stammered.  “At least Theo has told someone.”

Just as James was about to open his mouth, the door burst open.  Lord Caulfield came into the room, commanding everyone’s attention.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” The man said easily. “James, go light on the scotch–can’t have you draining the entire bottle.”

“No sir,” James said cheekily. He’d turned to go back to his conversation with Sebastian, only stopping when Lord Caulfield gave him a cutting look.

“Perhaps you and Ominis would like to converse with your friends,” Lord Caulfield said airily. “So I might get to know our friend Sebastian better.”

“Er, right. Sounds good. Ominis, perhaps you’d like to move over to the chair.” James gave Sebastian a sympathetic look as he guided Ominis towards the group, racing back over to the rest of the group.

“Sebastian,” Lord Caulfield said, beckoning him closer.  Sebastian hesitantly joined him towards the fireplace, gripping the glass in his hand. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

Sebastian nodded eagerly. “I did, sir.  An excellent meal.”

Lord Caulfield eyed him curiously. “Theodora had painted you as quite the conversationalist.”

Sebastian gulped. “So she has talked about me, to you?”

Lord Caulfield laughed, looking at a painting above the fireplace. “No, but thinking I could mistake the glances she was making at you for friendship would insult my intelligence.”

“Oh.” Sebastian uttered, tugging at his collar.

“Tell me, Sebastian.  Do you hunt?” Lord Caulfield asked.

“No sir.”

“Right then…any sports?” Lord Caulfield asked, lighting his cigar.

He was a muggle, Sebastian thought.  Now wasn’t exactly the time to brag about being a fair flyer in a summer pick up Quidditch league. 

“Not particularly, sir.” Sebastian admitted. “At least…not in your type of sports.”

Lord Caulfield nodded his head up and down slowly. “So no hunting, no sports.  A scholar, then, am I correct?”

“Attempting to be one,” Sebastian smiled meekly. “Think your daughter has me beat on the academic front though.”

“My daughter indeed.” Lord Caulfield narrowed his eyes on him.

Sebastian looked over his shoulder at Ominis, who was conversing with James and his friends.  He silently begged his friend to put his legilimens skills to work, help him form the right words to say.

“What do you think of this painting?”

Sebastian turned his attention back to Theo’s father, and the painting above the fireplace.  Sebastian stepped back slightly, looking up at it–it was a portrait of a woman, with dark hair and blustery blue eyes.  He was just about to respond, saying how pretty the subject was, when he noticed Lord Caulfield open the flap of his jacket to reach the inner pocket for a hankerchief.  

“Your jacket, sir.” Sebastian said quickly. “What does it say on the inside?”

The older man chuckled with the cigar in his mouth. “Oh, Theodora’s mother used to steal all my coats, embroider them on the inside.” he opened his jacket once more, showing Sebastian the red thread.  There were letters sewn above his heart, very much like the jacket Sebastian was wearing. 

With Theo on his mind, Sebastian looked back up at the portrait.  The same pretty dark hair, full cheeks, and pouty lips. He could see his girlfriend in the portrait of the woman above

“Lady Caulfield was very beautiful.” Sebastian mused. “And from what Theo has told me, incredibly kindhearted.  I know you must miss her very much.”

Lord Caulfield gave him a look, taking a puff from his cigar. “Perceptive, unlike most seventeen year old boys.” he chuckled. He looked back at James and his friends. “Leonora always said you magic folk grew up far faster than us muggles .” he murmured.

Now was the time , Sebastian thought.  He had to make his intentions known. 

“SIr, I wonder if we might speak in private–”

“Another time,” Lord Caulfield took another long drag from the cigar, giving Sebastian a knowing look. “For that conversation, I should think.”

Sebastian pushed through the door, shivering as he took off his soaked woolen hat. 

“We can put our skates in the back,” Theo announced, unraveling her scarf. She looked around, making sure there were no servants around, before whipping her wand out of her pocket to cast a drying spell on them.

“Thanks,” Sebastian’s teeth chattered. “We should see how Ominis is faring—should’ve guessed he wouldn’t be interested in ice skating.”

“Theodora, you know better than to be waving that stick around the house.”

Both of them froze, turning to look up the stairs. At the top was her tiny great-aunt, hands folded in front of her dress with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Sorry,” Theo moaned. “It’s just so much easier.” Dropping her skates on the rug, Theo bounced up the stairs to kiss the old woman on the cheek. Sebastian did the same, following her up the steps a few paces behind. The old woman blushed, waving him off as he grinned down at her.

“Your father is quite cross with you,” Great-Aunt Gertie warned. “He’s asked for you to meet him in the study, alone .”

“It’s Christmas Eve, can’t he leave it alone?” Theo complained.

“Afraid not, my dear.” Gertie patted her shoulder. “Best you go in now–perhaps Sebastian can help me down the stairs to the drawing room.”

Theo gave Sebastian a wry look before heading up the stairs.  He extended his arm out to the old woman, who gave him a beaming smile.

“Did you enjoy your outing?” Gertie asked. “Have you been back for long?”

Sebastian blushed–while he had enjoyed skating, they did spend the last fifteen minutes tucked behind the bushes adjacent to the house.  He’d pressed Theo against the brick wall, casting a quick disillusionment charm, so that they might have a moment alone together. Sebastian rubbed his stubbled jaw, hoping Theo hadn’t left any marks.

“London is fascinating,” he demurred. “I haven’t spent time here since I was a child.”

“An expert at deflection, quite like Theo’s mother.” Gertie chuckled. “She looks at you the same way Leonora looked at Ted when they were younger.”

Sebastian felt his blush deepen as they hit the foot of the stairs. “I would hope so.”

“The best of both her parents, I think.” Gertie mused. “It’s a shame her mother didn’t live long enough to see her power.”

“And you know about magic too, then?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

“Well, when your grand-niece suddenly finds herself on top of the roof after trying to escape a suitor at a tea party, how could you not believe in magic?” Gertie tipped her head towards him.

Sebastian let out a booming laugh. “She never told me that,” he chuckled.  They’d talked often about how their magic manifested, and Theo had long avoided the subject.  He banked up the story as future blackmail against her. 

As they approached the drawing room, Gertie patted Sebastian’s hand. “I am happy to finally meet you, my dear.  She writes about you so often, and seeing the two of you together, I understand why.” her eyes twinkled. “Don’t let Ted scare you. He only wants to ensure Theo has someone to take care of her.”

“I won’t,” Sebastian promised. 

Feeling quite chuffed after his conversation with Gertie, Sebastian walked up the stairs with a bounce in his step. He turned the corner to go up another flight to his shared room with Ominis, until he heard the loud voices emanating from the door next to the steps. He could hear Theo, arguing with her father.

“You’re being unreasonable,” Lord Caulfield advised. “Your aunt has put in quite a lot of work planning your debut, and she’s told me you want to cancel it.”

“I’m quite within my rights,” Theo bit back. “She shouldn’t have been planning it in the first place.”

Sebastian pulled his wand from his pocket, casting a disillusionment charm.  The door led to the second floor of Lord Caulfield’s study; he slipped in through the door, taking care to press it shut quietly behind him.  He looked down below from the balcony of books to see Theo pacing back and forth, Lord Caulfield sitting at his desk.

“Every girl goes through a presentation,” Lord Caulfield strained. “It’s tradition.”

“My mother didn’t.” Theo seethed. 

“Teddie, please, I don’t want to argue.” he groaned. “I just want you to do things the proper way.”

“Don’t call me that, I’ve told you a million times.” Theo fought. 

Her father let out an exasperated sigh, standing up. “And why is it that you won’t go through with your debut as planned?”

Theo fidgeted. “Girls only do that to find a husband.” she said stiffly. “And I’ve already found one for myself.”

Her father rolled his eyes. “A farm boy, from the highlands, who can hardly hold a conversation. You don’t even know if he can take care of you, Theodora. Surely you–”

“I’ve made my decision, that’s final.” Theo cut him off, crossing her arms. “No presentation–no ball–nothing.  I know what the rest of my life looks like, Dad.  It’s with Sebastian.”

Sebastian felt a shiver up his spine, his heart thumping with pride hearing her say it.  

“You’re eighteen,” Lord Caulfield barked. “What do you know of love?”

“So what?” Theo demanded. “Mother was only nineteen when you met–”

“Don’t bring your mother into this.” Her father warned, wagging a finger in her face. “It’s a completely different situation–”

“It’s not!” Theo bickered. “It’s love–you and Mum were always saying you both sacrificed things to be together, that you could accomplish anything so long as you had each other!”

“That was before I had a daughter! A daughter whose wellbeing and future I need to ensure.” Lord Caulfield roared, his fist slamming on the table. “And has he asked?” his eyes narrowed, leaning against his desk. “This boy, who you should’ve told me you were bringing home, by the way.  Has he asked for your hand?”

Theo paused. “Not exactly,” she fidgeted. “But I know it, Dad.  I know he’s it for me.”

Sebastian leaned over the railing for a closer look.  Lord Caulfield had his head tipped back, staring up towards him.  If Sebastian hadn’t cast a disillusionment charm on himself, he could’ve sworn the man looking straight at him. He squinted, and Sebastian inhaled sharply, jumping away from the railing.

“You are as headstrong as your mother,” Lord Caulfield shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If only she were here to deal with your nonsense.”

“Mum would’ve been happy for me.” Theo muttered. “She would’ve known that I was making the right decision for myself.” She gave her father a wistful look before stomping out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. 

The knocking on the door woke Sebastian first.  He blinked heavily, looking over at the window; the sun hadn’t even risen.  Ominis, curled up in the plush bed across from him, was already groaning. 

“Who is it?” Ominis asked sleepily. “Tell them to fuck off, it’s Christmas.”

The knocking continued.  Sebastian hopped out of the bed, sliding into his slippers as he padded over to the door.  He opened it, rubbing his eyes; they widened when he realized it was Lord Caulfield, dressed and ready for the day.

“Good morning, Sebastian.” He said stiffly. “I was wondering if you might join me in the study for coffee this morning.”

Sebastian blinked at Theo’s father. “Um, certainly.  Let me get dressed–”

“Nothing fancy.” Lord Caulfield said, turning on his heel. “I’ll meet you in the study.”

Sebastian swallowed thickly. “I’ll be downstairs in a moment.”

It took him a few minutes to rummage through his trunk, trying to decide what to wear.  He settled on his wool trousers, thick socks, boots, and an old sweater Anne had knitted for him.  Ominis had fallen back asleep, snoring lightly as Sebastian shrugged on his clothes. He nearly stumbled down the steps to the first floor of the house; it seemed the rest of the house was still asleep. The door to Lord Caulfield’s study was left ajar, so he slipped through the door and shut it behind him.

“Good morning, Sebastian.” Lord Caulfield said, pouring a cup of coffee from a silver tray. 

“Good morning, Lord Caulfield.” Sebastian’s teeth chattered.

“Ted, I told you.” Theo’s father advised, gesturing for him to follow. “Come in, take a seat.”

Sebastian cautiously stepped forward, sitting in the chair across from his desk.

“Happy Christmas.” Ted said, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Happy Christmas, sir.” Sebastian replied, nervously folding his hands in his lap.

“Have you enjoyed your stay in London so far?” Ted asked, leaning back into his chair. “You seem a bit nervous.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been nervous about meeting you for a while, I think.  Anyone meeting a girl’s father should be.”

Ted gave him a wry smile. “I wouldn’t know–I never had the luxury of meeting Leonora’s parents.  They were highly against our union; something about how magic folks shouldn’t marry muggles, if that’s what we’re still called.”

Sebastian bit his lip, nodding. “Some people keep that belief, I suppose.  Not me.”

“So much so, they never wanted to meet little Theodora.” Ted said, standing up.  He folded his hands behind his back, walking towards the fire. “And that they stopped speaking with Leo altogether when they found out Theo didn’t have any magical abilities.”

“That’s horrible.” Sebastian shook his head. “I can’t imagine it.”

“Are your folks the accepting type?” Ted asked, stopping by the fire. “She hasn’t told me much, but her mentor, Professor Fig, had told me there would be others who wouldn’t accept her.”

“I would say so, sir.” Sebastian stood as well, slowly approaching him with his hands in his pockets. “But my parents died when I was younger.  And my guardian…er, my guardian passed almost two years ago.” 

“I am very sorry to hear that,” Ted gave him a sympathetic look. “Loss does make you children grow up a lot faster.” He looked up at the portrait on the wall, chewing on his bottom lip. “Neither Theo nor I were quite the same after she passed.”

Sebastian looked up at the portrait of Theo’s mother. “They look so similar.” he mused. “She doesn’t talk about her very much–I would like to know about her.”

Ted smiled softly. “Theo and her mother share a magic stronger than their abilities.  They both bring a certain warmth to the world, don’t they? They would do anything for the people they love, even if it pained them.” 

“That’s a pretty good way of putting it.” Sebastian admitted. Very on brand for Theo, he thought to himself.

“I never knew such beauty until I met Leonora,” Ted said. “She bewitched me from the moment we met.  We both broke our families rules by marrying one another, but I knew no one else would compare. And when she died…well, she took a piece of me with her.” he said mournfully.

“I am very sorry for your loss.” Sebastian murmured. 

“I’ll say it now, just once. Theodora is right to despise me.  I was not there for her when her mother died, not properly, as a father should. When my wife died, I retreated to the only things I knew–drinking, hunting, being alone. When Theo found her magic, I didn’t know how to deal with it.  By the time I realized she’d needed me, she was already off to that school of yours.” He said wistfully. “But Theo remains my crown jewel.  My lasting legacy in this world. I don’t care who it is that she marries, except that she is properly taken care of.”

Sebastian swallowed thickly, opening his mouth to say what he’d been meaning to say the entire trip.  However, the words wouldn’t materialize.

“Can you take care of her?  Ensure her safety, her wellbeing?” Ted demanded. “Provide for her and the children you might have someday?”

“I can, sir.” Sebastian declared. “I’ve been recommended for a highly sought after placement after graduation; I already work, I make my own money.  I have a house in the highlands–it’s not grand by any means, but it’s comfortable for her–and I do plan on living in London after graduation.” he blurted.

“And you mean to ask me for her hand in marriage, don’t you?” Ted asked, eyes narrowed.

“I love her, sir.” Sebastian choked out. “I love her so much.  I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy.”

Ted pursed his lips at Sebastian. “You are so very young, the both of you.”

“I just feel like no matter how long I get, it won’t be enough time with her.” Sebastian admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

Ted looked back up at the portrait on the wall. “I know the feeling.”

“Are you saying yes, then?” Sebastian asked, albeit a bit too eagerly.

Ted looked at Sebastian, tilting his head. “I think we both know it doesn’t matter how I feel. I know that once my daughter has put her mind to something, there’s no stopping her.  I know that she loves you dearly, at least from what my dear aunt has told me.” he said, walking back around to his desk. “If I can make any request, I only ask that you at least wait until you’re older. Graduated at the very least, preferably.”

Sebastian nodded. “Of course, sir.”

Ted leaned over his desk, palms flat on the surface. “We both should’ve known regardless, my permission never mattered.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Ted’s face. The older man shared the same chuckle, shaking his head at the thought.  As if Theodora Caulfield could ever be stopped, Sebastian thought to himself.  She was a force of nature, the most talented witch he knew.

And someday, hopefully soon, his wife.

“Happy Christmas, you two.” Theo said, leaning against the door of their bedroom.

The day had actually been quite nice; the trio had gone out to Diagon Alley for the day, picking up a bevy of treats and candies to share amongst themselves at home.  After a modest Christmas roast with her father and great-aunt, they’d retired to the room upstairs to exchange Christmas presents.  Ominis had gifted Sebastian a new leather wallet to replace his tattered one, and a pretty hairpin made of unicorn horn for Theo.  Sebastian and Theo had jointly gifted Ominis a traveler’s set of wizard’s chess. 

“For the two of you to play on the train back to Scotland,” Theo said softly, putting her arm around Sebastian.

“You two are too much,” Ominis shook his head. “Especially you, Sebastian.”

“You deserve it.” Sebastian declared. His pockets might have been a little leaner that holiday season, but he wanted to give Ominis a meaningful present. The same for Theo–while he couldn’t afford anything remotely close to what her father had gifted her that holiday season, he yearned to give her something meaningful.  While he had not found what he’d been looking for in Mr. Hill’s jewelry selection, he’d still made a purchase.  That, and a visit to the goblin metalsmith in Irondale.

“This one’s for you.” Sebastian declared, passing Theo a long oblong box. It was carefully wrapped in butcher paper, twine and holly berry tied to decorate it. He watched as Theo tore off the wrapping, eyes widening at the velvet box.

“Sebastian, can we speak in the hallway?” she murmured.

Slightly panicked, Sebastian nodded, following her out of the room.  She shut the door gently, gripping the velvet box in hand.

“I didn’t want to say in front of Ominis…you shouldn’t have bought me anything.” Theo insisted.

Sebastian scratched at his head. “It’s Christmas,” he said sheepishly. “I had to get you something.”

“But you just bought the gloves for my birthday,” she strained. “And the new clothes–”

“Are you worried about me?” Sebastian asked quietly. “About the money?”

“I just know you gave up a lot of shifts over the holidays to be here,” Theo looked down at her shoes, fidgeting. “And we already get so little time together, you’ll be working yourself to the bone trying to make up for it.”

“Open it, please.” Sebastian interjected. “Open the box.”

Theo looked at him as she snapped the box open; she pulled out the silver chain, which had a key at the end.

“What is this?” she whispered, examining the key closer.

“A key to the Feldcroft house.” Sebastian swallowed thickly. “It’s nothing big. I know you could easily break the door down if you wanted to, but after we spent so much time fixing it up over the summer, I wanted you to feel like it was yours.  Because it sort of is, in a way–”

Theo dropped the box, throwing her arms around his neck.  Sebastian tugged her close, hungrily kissing her lips.  She was whispering something in between kisses, but Sebastian couldn’t make sense of it. He chuckled against her mouth as she pressed him against the wall, her hands on his cheeks.

“Ahem.”

Sebastian turned his head, feeling Theo jump away from him. Mortified, he saw Theo’s father at the end of the hallway, his hands crossed against his chest. Ted Caulfield was giving him a knowing look, eyebrows raised in displeasure.

“Sorry, Dad.” Theo muttered, clutching the silver chain in hand. The velvet box had fallen from her hands.

“Theodora, bed.” Ted ordered her. 

Theo turned back to Sebastian, giving him a devilish grin and a kiss on the cheek.  “Tell Ominis I said goodnight as well,” she sang, fastening the silver chain around her neck.  Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck as she winked, disappearing down the back stairs.

“Goodnight, Sebastian.” Ted said gruffly. “Don’t forget our conversation.”

Sebastian blushed. “Goodnight, sir.  Happy Christmas.”

With that, he slid behind the door to his room and a very confused Ominis.

September 1898

“Have you found them yet?” Sebastian asked, frowning.  

He heard a soft meow from underneath the dressing table.  Craning his neck, he saw the little tan cat wiggling its bottom out from under, shaking out the dust as it clutched the silver cufflink in its mouth. 

“Thank you,” Sebastian grinned, plucking the bauble. “Useful having an animagus in the house.”

Theo reverted from her animagus form back to human; she brushed the dirt off her skirt. “Is that all I’m good for?” she snorted, checking her hair in the mirror.

“Amongst other things,” Sebastian winked, fastening his cuffs.

Theo rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me started–we’re already going to be late to dinner.” she warned him.  

They were due at Caulfield House soon; as soon as her father had caught wind that Sebastian was home, he’d insisted they come over for dinner.  Sebastian had been entirely taken up with assignments from Rothwell, and Theo had been deep in her research all week.  They’d slipped into a comfortable routine in the week that he’d been back with her; coffee in bed before work, dinner in the kitchen at half past five, and curled back up in each other’s arms with books by nine.

It was like he’d never left, Sebastian thought to himself. 

“Come on,” Theo complained. “I’d rather not spend my Friday night stuck at the house, I’d rather spend it back here with you. So let’s get dinner over with.”  She sauntered ahead of him down the stairs. “How on earth did your cufflink get under the dresser, anyways?”

Sebastian’s face burned red; he didn’t want to tell her he’d been tearing apart her dressing room, looking for the ring she’d hidden all week.  He was starting to panic–Theo had made it sound like she’d hidden it in plain sight, but he’d looked through her bedroom, dressing room, and bathroom twice already.

“Nothing,” Sebastian coughed. “Shall we?”

It felt odd, traveling the muggle way, but her father has insisted on sending a carriage.  Ted Caulfield was nothing if not traditional, sending the old carriage with the Caulfield family crest. Sebastian held Theo’s hand tightly the entire way as the rickety coach creaked on the cobblestones.

“Do you remember the first time I met your father?” Sebastian asked, tipping his head to look out the window. 

“You were quite cross with me,” Theo snorted. “Because I didn’t tell him.”

“Yes, well, it’s common courtesy to let a man know before bringing home a significant other.” Sebastian reminded her.

Theo sidled up to him, setting her chin on his shoulder. “I am no man’s to give away.” she said simply. 

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but pecked a kiss on her head. “I was just thinking about how long ago that seemed.” he mused. “I couldn’t tell if your father hated me or not.”

“He’s always liked you,” Theo pointed out. “You, on the other hand, were terrified of him.”

Sebastian laughed at the memory. “Everything seemed much scarier and more serious when you’re seventeen.”

They rolled to a stop in front of Theo’s childhood home.  Sebastian helped Theo out of the carriage, smoothing down the front of his jacket.  He recalled how he’d spent a good chunk of his savings on fancy wool suits from Gladrags, only to find Theo had purchased him an entire wardrobe.  He likely had some of those old jackets back in his flat with Ominis–he made a mental note to ask Theo to stitch her initials into all of his new clothes as well.

Sebastian walked in through the doors; it looked and smelled just as he remembered it.  He took Theo’s cloak, handing it over to a maid, as he surveyed the empty room.

“It’ll be just us for dinner,” Theo said gently, tugging his arm. “Come on.”

It was odd for Ted to not greet them in the foyer, Sebastian thought.  He was normally strict with manners, very by the book. Theo pushed open the doors of the dining room, and Sebastian nearly stopped in his tracks at the sight of her father at the table.

“Sebastian,” Ted Caulfield grinned. “Welcome back.”

Ted Caulfield had terrified Sebastian when he was seventeen.  He was a large, barrel-chested  man who could easily fight him if need be.  A sportsman, Theo had called him, always somewhere hunting or riding.  He couldn’t have been older than his late forties when he last saw him, but somehow in the three years Sebastian had been gone, he’d…aged. Significantly. Sick, if Sebastian would dare to think it. The man sitting at the table looked weathered and stiff, wincing as he tried to pull himself up from the chair. 

Sebastian quickly jumped forward so that the man wouldn’t have to get out of his chair. “Ted,” he smiled, shaking his hand. “Good to be home.”

“Sit down,” Theo ordered him. “No need to be so formal, Dad.”

“Proper manners, Theodora.” Ted chided her. He looked up to Sebastian. “Still as stubborn as the day you met her, I presume?”

Sebastian dipped his head, smiling. “Would expect nothing less.”

Dinner went on, but Sebastian could sense the tension in the room.  He didn’t miss the way Theo batted her father’s hand away from the salt, or how she complained that the sauce was too heavy. 

“I wanted them to cook a good English meal for Sebastian,” Ted tutted. “He’s home after being away for so long, after all.”

“I’m grateful for it, really.” Sebastian assured him. “It’s nice to be home.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Theo huffed. But under the table, her shaking hand found his.  Sebastian squeezed it reassuringly.

The dinner conversation was cheerful, only interrupted by Ted’s coughing and Theo’s fussing.  Sebastian tried his best to cut the tension with stories of his adventures in Cairo.  Despite Ted having some idea of magic, he still took delight in Sebastian’s stories of curse breaking and escapades amongst the pyramids. Ted lamented not being in good enough health to travel, which had Theo dropping her silverware.

“Shall we retire to the study?” Ted asked, taking Sebastian’s arm as he helped him up from the table.

“I’m going to check in with your nurse first,” Theo said, folding her napkin. “I’ll meet you two there–and I better not catch you drinking any scotch.” she warned.

Sebastian helped the man limp from the dining room to his study; the fire was crackling low as Sebastian helped him fall into a leather bound chair.

“Just a little bit won’t hurt,” he pointed to the crystal decanter. “A cheeky drink between us gentlemen.”

Sebastian walked over to the desk, pouring a modest glass of scotch for both of them.  Ted sighed deeply as he shot it down, resting the crystal glass on the table adjacent to him. Sebastian sat down, swirling his glass in hand.

“Theo didn’t tell me you were unwell.” Sebastian said uneasily.

Ted gave him a sheepish look. “I’m sure she had much better topics than my health to discuss with you in your correspondence.”

He tilted his head towards him. “You’re important.  You’re her father.”

Ted smacked his lips together. “Truth is, I would’ve died a year ago, had Theo not been there.” He drummed his fingertips against the edge of the chair. “Heart attack, right here in the study.”

“That’s awful,” Sebastian murmured. “I’m sorry to hear it.” He felt a pang of shame in his heart, realizing he hadn’t been there to comfort her.  Why didn't she write?  He would’ve taken the time to come home, he thought.  

“That magic of hers really is something.” Ted shook his head. “But she can’t sustain me for long.”

“Magic?” Sebastian repeated.

Ted nodded. He swirled his fingers, imitating his daughter. “The curious little blue magic of hers,” Ted repeated. “Worked a charm.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Sebastian asked, leaning his elbows on his knees. He knew there was likely nothing to be done on his end, but offering it felt like the right thing to do.

Ted swallowed thickly. “Marry her.  Make an honest woman of her, Sebastian. She should be a wife by now, a mother.  If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s to not wait.” Sebastian blushed. “Sir–”

“I know that’s contradictory to what I told you when you were seventeen,” Ted waved him off. “To wait until you were older–but you’re both grown now, Sebastian. Don’t waste any time not being together.” He looked up at the portrait of his wife above the fireplace, as he so often did in Sebastian’s presence. “If I could have but one more moment with Leonora, I would trade every material possession I have in the world.”

“Trust me sir, I am trying.” Sebastian assured him. “Any other sage advice, then?”

“A little less scotch and cigars,” Ted coughed. “Would’ve prolonged things a bit.”

“I think I’ve set your nurse straight,” Theo said, walking into the room.  She stood in the center, her hands on her hips. “Tell me you didn’t drink any scotch.”

“Not a sip.” Ted said cheerfully.

“I know you’re lying,” Theo scowled. “I can see the glass next to you."

“Sebastian poured me a little,” Ted admitted.  

Sebastian’s jaw dropped as Theo seethed, snatching the crystal glass from the side table. Ted chuckled as she set it down on the desk, leaning against it with her arms crossed. 

“You so remind me of your mother right now.” Ted said wistfully.  

Sebastian’s eyes compared Theo to the portrait on the wall.  Yes, as his love had aged, she’d become the very reincarnation of her mother.  They shared the same black curls, rosy cheeks,  and shapely nose.  Sebastian wondered if Leonora Caulfield scowled or rolled her eyes in the same way Theo did, sharing any other little characteristics with the woman who’d driven him mad since he was sixteen.  It reminded him that her mother was just another character he’d never meet in life, much like Theo would never meet his own parents.

Ted was the only living parent between the two of them. Theo and her father had still had somewhat of an icy relationship when Sebastian left for Cairo, but it seemed like Ted’s illness had thawed the frost between them. It made sense that Theo would use her magic to prolong his life as much as possible, despite the disdain she’d had for him as a teenager–he was all she had left.  Sebastian became even more determined to find the ring, to marry her while Ted was still around to see.

They’d have to talk, Sebastian thought.  He was reminded of the job offer in Cairo, the one Rothwell continuously reminded him of every time he stepped foot in Gringotts.  They’d have to figure out where they’d live–Theo’s townhouse was nice, but not a proper family home.  How quickly they could plan a wedding; soon enough that it wouldn’t look suspicious on Ominis’s end, and enough time for Sebastian to scrounge his savings together for the party.

He might never see Cairo again, which gave him a little bit of heartache.  He’d expected the trip home to be a quick respite, but being back in London for just the short week and a half had made Sebastian realize it was time.  Time to settle down, time to grow up. There would be adventure again someday, but he’d missed far too much in his time away.

“Sebastian, are you even listening?”

He broke out of his thoughts, turning his head to Theo.  She was still leaning against the doorway. Her father was hobbling towards it, looking back at him. “Hm?”

“Dad is tired, I think we should retire for the night.” She said, holding her gloved hand out. “Shall we go home?”

He got up from the chair, eagerly helping Ted walk them to the door.  A maid held their cloaks out for them.

“Remember, Sebastian.” Ted said quickly, as Sebastian passed Theo’s velvet trimmed cloak.

“Remember what?” Theo asked curiously, fastening the brooch at her neck.

“Oh nothing,” Ted replied cheerfully, kissing her cheek. “You two get home safely–it was lovely seeing you both.”

Sebastian nodded to her father, bidding in farewell as he walked Theo down the steps to the carriage.  His hand hovered over her back as she got in, feeling a weight on his chest as he followed.  He started thinking of his list again, all the tasks he needed to accomplish in order to properly go down on one knee.  Where in Merlin’s name had she hidden the ring?

“What did my father say?” Theo broke the silence between them. It was silent in the cabin, except for the sound of the carriage wheels bouncing over the street. 

“Why didn’t you tell me he was ill?” Sebastian asked softly, taking her hand as he ignored her question. “I would’ve come home.”

Theo turned her head to look out the window, her gloved hand resting on her chin. “I didn’t want to worry you.  I could manage on my own; taking you away from your job would’ve only lengthened your apprenticeship. I wanted you to come home, Seb. But only when the time was right.”

Sebastian frowned. He hated the idea of her dealing with it all on her own–she likely wouldn’t have told Ominis either, keeping her father’s illness close to her chest.  

“I’m home now,” Sebastian murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Let me take some of the burden.”

“He’s not your father,” Theo sighed. “He’s a pain in my arse, but he is my dad. I should take care of him.”

“He’s important to you, so he’s important to me.” Sebastian pressed his nose against her cheek; the gesture made Theo giggle, turning to face him.  Her eyes were wet–she’d been trying not to cry.

“I’m glad you're back,” Theo whispered, pressing a hand to his cheek. 

“Me too.” Sebastian tucked her into his arm, holding her close. He relished the way Theo hummed against his chest, dark curls pressing into his chin as they savored the silence. The couple remained that way the entire ride back home.

[empresstheresa-guide]

And here we have it: the final cover. It's a new "improved" version of the previous two. Yikes.

There's a certain aesthetic to the font and color, which I think is OK. It looks a bit distinctive from other book covers, and is miles better than the unprofessional font in the last two. I'm not a huge fan of purple and yellow, but I don't want to knock this. The yellow rectangle is a bit too high, but apart from that, I'd say this aspect is fine.

But Theresa.. I mean look at that face. It looks flat, like she's made of paper. The nose is so odd with its grey lines. It seems he drew it in pencil and then never filled in the line work. Maybe he was worried about "ruining" it. Or maybe he drew a face he didn't like, and then erased/filled with paint and drew it all over again. The impression is very uneven. Remember Theresa is supposed to be super beautiful, and when you write a character like that - not saying you should - the expectations are high. And at least for me, this doesn't do it at all. The first cover showed a happy, proud looking woman who actually had expressive eyes It felt more natural, while these later covers seem so tortured. He probably toiled for hours and hours to make her look "just right", but it just turned worse and worse. Drawing, trying again, coloring, erasing. Over and over. Sitting up late at night in your room, frantically drawing more and more, in a frenzy of having to make it better.

Her hands bother me the most. They're completely different sizes. They look like mannequin hands, and the fingers are oddly bent. Salad Fingers meets Vincent Adultman. She also seems to have very old-fashioned red nails. I guess long nails would make the fingers look even worse, but there's something so dated about her whole look.

And then there's her torso. The breasts are super far apart, but at least they're not unrealistically huge this time. The rest of her body is just completely flat. No hips. I thought she had a sexy butt, which she admires herself in one chapter. Usually that would include big hips, but maybe that's too "fat" for Norman.

The microphone is now red and less disturbing than the neon green one, but it's still very small and looks like Norman drew it with a single line. A black, sturdy microphone would look much better. I bet Norman doesn't watch any modern videos, because most streamers use proper headsets.

Somehow the soldiers turn into dogs, then spiders. The buildings get smaller, except for the one that's randomly slightly bigger. Norman needs to learn about perspective. You'd think there are art guides all over the internet for this kind of thing.

Not the worst version, but it's a hot mess. I give this 3,5/10 HALs.

I'm very curious to see if he will make a new cover some day. He seems to have trouble letting go of the book, probably because he sees it as his life's work, and it's hard to stop working on it. Maybe he feels empty and like something is missing. He should try to write another book. Many people would buy it, just to see how bad it is.

[sharkrocket]

Top 5 fave patho characters? Top 5 fav patho ships? Top 5 fave patho character designs? 🤔🤔😈😈[throws these questions at you and then bolts]

OH FUN, I love thinking about these things 😀

TOP FIVE PATHO CHARACTERS

I have a more extensive write-up on my top two that you can read here, but I can try to sum it up to the best of my ability 

1. Artemy 

BIG strong beautiful body

Tired sarcastic dad who can do a punch

Intelligent but humble about it 

Goals and conflict I can understand

2. Daniil

Poor little hiss hiss

Little freak of a man who is always freaking out, hot! 

Byronic hero-esque, self-destructive dramatic bastard

Romanticizing his melancholic solitude  

Shoots a gun real good and will throw hands

I do this to him 

This will be a bit of a long post, so more under the cut

3. Stickyson

I LOVE MY STICKYSON!!! He’s so earnest and smart and a rascal, love to see a kid with big aspirations and eager to help

I keep thinking as he grows up with his two dads, how funny it would be if he picks up the best and worst traits between the both of them, so he’d be very kind, and intelligent, but have a temper and a smart mouth 

Love this kid, S-tier orphan 

4. Rubin 

IDK MAN, I JUST FIND RUBIN VERY FUNNY, just the way he holds grudges, how he thinks in straight lines, how he’s so bitter about being second-best, so to speak

I like him, stubborn thick-skull man who has beliefs and he’s going to stick to them, dammit

5. TO BE DETERMINED

My partner is still carving through Patho 2, so I’m still learning more about these versions of characters. All the kids are pretty funny in their own way, but Notkin and Khan are growing on me. I forgot to mention Aspity last time, but I enjoy her brand of vitriol 

TOP FIVE PATHO SHIPS

1. I am not immune to Burda propaganda 

I got interested in Patho because I wondered offhand if ship art of these two healers existed, so I was already off to a fantastic start

I already had a tendency to favor pairings with opposite rival characters that work well together, so REALLY, I was no match, it was inevitable 

2. That’s it, there’s no more 😞

I’m one of those annoying people that fixate on one pairing and won’t shut up about it, so that’s all you’ll get out of me

THOUGH, I am 100 percent open to other pairings of other characters if the reasoning behind it is compelling or interesting enough (I’ve seen Andrey & Grief, Andrey & Vlad Jr. and Rubin & Grief and those are fascinating from an outsiders perspective)

TOP FIVE PATHO CHARACTER DESIGNS

1. Patho 1 Rubin

I LOVE PATHO 1 RUBIN DESIGN SO MUCH, THE LEATHER DADDY LOOK IS SO GOOD FOR HIM, and compared to his stoic, straightforward, no nonsense attitude, it’s just SO FUNNY 

I have a theory that he would make a really good fashion model, but I’m waiting to have a proper doodle dump before I drop that on everyone 

The Patho 2 redesign was such a nerf, I will never forgive them

2. Patho 2 Artemy

I like his green smock! And I love the leather shoulder bits, the straps, the big kangaroo pouch, the thigh pouches, his hood and the fashionable boots

I enjoy coloring this outfit, it’s functional and not too much 

3. Patho 2 Daniil

This outfit inspires the urge to grab him by the scruff and shake him. Normally I’m a stickler for accuracy, but I refuse to draw his stupid asymmetrical coat collars. WHY TAKE THE MOST FASHIONBLE PART OF THE COAT AND DO IT LIKE THAT? I’m also not the biggest fan of his shoes, but I’m biased because I love drawing dress shoes. I do not enjoy coloring his outfit, the amount of layers I have to use is ridiculous 

I do like the little half-cape thing though, that’s very fashionable, and his STUPID LIL SNAKE BELT BUCKLE

I will say, the fact that his outfit is so extra and infuriating to some extent is perfect for the little hiss hiss, so quality design from me 

4. Patho 2 Notkin

I like his outfit a lot, there’s sort of a punk(?) quality to it

He very much crafted a look for himself with whatever he could get his hands on, and he made it work. I would wear this 

5. Patho 1 Anna Angel 

WHAT AN OUTFIT, look at those gold and red accents and those thigh high boots, the DRAMA

This is so high fashion, I can easily see this on a modern runway

The Patho 2 redesign was also a disappointment I can’t forgive 

6. I have to mention Patho 2 Andrey

They fact they kept him mostly the same except they took his shirt off was such a bold design choice, I am 100 percent onboard with this 

OKAY I’M DONE, I hope that answers some questions 

[farshootingstar]

Alright, so I mentioned in my rambles lately that this other game idea and OC (named Rain, for now) have kind of infected my brain, right?

Well, I did end up slapping together a playlist for him. No cover image for it, so far, since I'm planning to finish the PPB ones at the moment, but still. It felt like it would be good to put something together.

I can't say I'm 100% mapping out his character or anything like that, but I'll talk about some of his musical preferences and a few other things underneath the cut. I might add in more songs later on, maybe, but he has more than enough to make a decent little time-waster.

So, first off, what are some of Rain's musical preferences? Some favorite types of instrumentation for him are chiptunes, lo-fi, and/or interesting guitar work (he especially likes a fun bassline). He also likes the occasional classic goth song; he wouldn't call himself goth since he knows he has a basic bitch enjoyment of the genre (same hat).

His name, whether it's temporary or not, also has a song chosen to reference it. See, when the idea for him started solidifying more, it was on a rainy day and I was deciding on a nail polish color for later. I ended up choosing a rain-themed color called Pour Your Misery Down, named after a line from the song Only Happy When It Rains by Garbage. I like that song, so there we go. :p

I think one of the songs that probably sticks out the most, despite having a bassline that slaps, is Forget Me Nots by Patrice Rushen. I put that one in because forget-me-nots are Rain's favorite flowers. Is that important? Not at this point. He mostly likes them because he loves the color blue the most. Guess his name fits because he adores a sky blue shade. Honestly, the song Superfresh might sound a bit more out of place, but it has some great energy to it and you guys already know I have a Jamiroquai bias that I lovingly inflict on character playlists sometimes.

There are actually a few songs I chose solely for the titles, since I wanted references to the embarrassing nicknames he can potentially give to the player (I have an idea for an extremely arbitrary system for deciding which it will be, which would also go for Oberon's potential 2nd game, albeit with different nicknames). The nicknames Rain would give are between Hot Stuff, Baby, Darlin', or Sugar, so the 4 songs are clustered together for that.

I'd say the two songs I find the most interesting in the list are Duvet by bôa and Acting by Sweet Trip. Some of you slightly older anime fans may recognize Duvet as the song that was licensed and somewhat edited to be the theme song for Serial Experiments Lain. That show was so iconic and something made me want to put it in for Rain's playlist (I guess his name is similar to Lain's, but I think more of what drew me was both the sound of the song and that the show was just a very interesting perspective on the relatively young but growing internet culture of the time). The song Acting feels like it has Rain vibes and, considering people only have my word to go off for that, it probably doesn't mean all that much for the time being. It's a pessimistic song about regrets, but I still feel some degree of hope. I don't know how to explain it or if this sort of thing will interest anyone until the character materializes proper.

Last little fun fact is that, at a mere 31 seconds long, inversion by Ichika Nito is the shortest song in any of the playlists at this point. Her guitar work is gorgeous, so I had to put in some music from her.

Honestly, I thought I would make a more solid list for Oberon first, but I don't really feel as comfortable choosing genres for him, since he lives in a cyberpunk future setting. Rain feels like someone I can feel more comfortable assigning some degree of musical tastes to.

[sins-of-the-sea]

"You seem to be pretty okay with yourself and with being a pig. I guess with all the simulacrum created to open doors and feed you and such, it’s not hard to get around or get anything done.”

“Oink. Oink.”

“But what about communicating with the rest of us if you need something? Or how about we enter soul raids or find any clue or item that could get us to the Master’s Eye?”

“Snort.” The pig thinks for a moment. He then stomps onto the floorboard and kicks up some saffron dust to create a new tulpa. In a burst of stars, foam, and sand, the colors condense to create a new form standing before Phoebus: a complete copy of Rashid himself, unchanged.

“Oh!! That’s right! You can create copies of yourself! So being a pig isn’t really all that inconvenient for you!”

{S} “There is still the matter of sleep and passing waste.”

“Did you not have a proper bed lining made for you? You can use a bedpan at the head and have a simulacrum throw out the contents. It’d be no different from using a chamber pot--just shallower and no lid.”

Rashid the copy sighs as the pig does the same. The mirage image seats himself on the floor as the pig places its rump at the same time. 

{S} “Thank you, Phoebus. I am grateful to be speaking with someone who isn’t scolding me every four minutes.”

“Oh. Is that how everyone is behaving around you?”

{S} “Not to the extent of the hyperbole, but it feels like it.”

“O-oh… I-I understand. Listen, I’m sorry if I have been unfairly harsh towards you since last year…”

{S} “And I am sorry I have been the same way this past winter.”

“You weren’t unfairly harsh. I really was being a horrible person. And the worst part is that I don’t know what to do about it. I have to improve. I have to move on. But I can’t do that as long as- … as long as-....”

{S} “As long as your brother remains cut off from you?”

Phoebus starts to cry. Both the pig and the image of Rashid get up to lean against the man for an embrace.

{S} “...Would you like to hear what I think, Phoebus?”

“Y-yes?”

{S} “We may not be able to fix the burnt bridges, but we can at least keep the ones we harmed from plunging from them. Tell you what. Will you accompany me to speak with Lady Lyna on apologizing to her? I really would prefer you be the one to be with me instead of Ruixiong.”

“Why not Ruixiong?”

{S} “Because the lad is stubborn and will try to take credit for our work. That, and he can’t solve everyone’s problems. He tends to be the cause of them, in fact.”

Phi sighs. “You’re not wrong.

“But we can certainly find Lady Lyna and I can accompany you in speaking with her. When do you want to leave?”

{S} “Whenever you are ready, my boy. And while we’re at it, let us get you something nice for the holiday too.”

“Thanks, Rashid!”

[whenalltheeyesopen]

Whelp. Just for you.

Edit: AO3 cross-post

It was quite a miracle, really, that driving was boring. It was a miracle that a big metal box running on controlled petrolium combustion shooting down massive slabs of tar at several times the speed of any known land animal could be considered boring. It was a dozen miracles put together that it was just as boring on an ephemeral rainbow road between dimensions.

Irene was stressed. She was stressed and she was bored and she was focusing badly on the road. In the back seat of the car, her usually well-behaved Persian was yowelling piteously in its carrier because it had been exiled to the back seat, too far from Mommy, because the passenger seat was occupied by a man, and the man was sobbing so fast that Irene expected him to throw up. He was hugging himself with one hand and with the other he squeezed his Bill Cipher pin so hard that deep ridges lined his fingers.

He was choking back air with every sob, too despondant to breathe.

Irene was bored and stressed and down to her last frayed nerve and she had no more control over the man in her passenger side seat than she did over the animal in the back. His fear and despair were just as animalistic, too. The cat at least had the self-respect to think it was people.

A cobolt blue sky-crawler from Dimension 62`~ flashed its headlights at her, then didn't even give her a chance to change lanes before adopting corkscrew posture and zipping around her Toyota. Irene screamed "OH FUCK OFF" to the unheeding driver(s), suddenly overcome with the urge to gun it and make those alien bastards regret the days they were born.

Behind her, the cat burbled. Beside her, the man hiccoughed and sputtered.

Irene wanted to gun it, and possibly wanted to scream, but she hadn't made it through med school in the apocalypse by giving in every time she felt like doing something dramatic.

I am getting overwhelmed, she reminded herself calmly. I have to take steps to calm down.

There was an overlook coming up, a pocket of omnidirectional convex micro-gravity put in by the nearest subdimension's tourist committee to tempt more Earthlings out onto this highway. Irene pulled in and navigated to the furthest parking space, situated on a wall. Dancing colors illuminated the interior of the car from the passenger's side. The driver's side looked out on sparkling eldritch eyes which formed constellations in the void.

Stanford Pines did not admire the colors and he did not notice the cosmic beasts. Bill had taken his glasses before the agility competition. That probably contributed to what had happened. Ford also reeked of alcohol and something sweeter; he had been running the course so blitzed out of his mind that Irene considered it a medical miracle that he was able to stand.

Irene stepped out of the car. Ford let out a cry, but lacked the strength to protest further.

In for three, out for five. Ten counts. Clear your mind.

Irene had studied pediatrics. She didn't work with a lot of kids, but she thought it was just due diligence before she open a proper family practice. Everyone should study pediatrics; as a whole, adults had a lot more in common with children than people realize.

In three, out five.

Done.

Dr. Irene Oleander admired the Eldrich gods under her feet while she walked around the car.

She opened the passenger side door.

Ford's face turned away, then haltingly back toward her. His sense of left and right must still be reversed. Doctor Oleander was not a neurologist, so she had to just pretend that wasn't terrifying and let Bill fix it later.

"Doctor Pines?" she said as gently as he could.

He stared at her. His eyes were puffy and so wet with tears that she could hardly make out his irises. He was still sobbing.

"Please speak," she said. He usually responded only to imperatives when he was upset.

"Yes?" His voice squeaked.

"Calimari is very scared," Irene said.

He blinked a few times in confusion. The tears cleared out of his eyes to show rich brown and bloodshot red. He looked over his shoulder, though, at the cat.

"She's scared of being in the back seat," Irene said, still as calmly as she could. "She's used to riding in the front."

Doctor Pines's eyes went wide. "Oh no," he said, insecure replaced with a whole new terror. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No," Irene said loudly and firmly. "Pay attention."

Immediately he was totally still. Even the sobbing paused. The only sounds were goopy cat noises and his ragged wheezes.

Irene didn't let her conscience nag at her for utilizing his operant conditioning. It was all for a good cause.

"I think Calimari might like it if someone held her," Irene said. "I don't suppose you're experienced with animals, are you?"

Of course he was, he was a biologist.

He blinked stupidly at her for a minute before saying, "I am." Then he sobbed again.

"Will you try holding her for a little bit while I drive, to see if she calms down?"

"Of course, Doctor," he said through renewed sobs.

The carrier was shifted. Irene looped through a jughandle and back onto the road.

To her immense relief, he seemed steadier. Pets, children: sometimes all they need is a job to do. (The cat was calmer too, which was a pleasant surprise.)

Irene got as far as the exit to 46'! before Ford fell completely silent. At this, Irene glanced over to check on him. He was holding the carrier with both hands, not even playing with the necklace anymore. At least now he was calm, if a little... checked out.

"Doctor Oleander?" He whispered as Irene took the backslash exit and the Toyota began to groan against the sudden reintroduction of physics.

"Yes, Doctor Pines?"

"Did he leave me on purpose?"

Yes. Yes he did. He abandoned you because he hates you and if you were a real pet you would have been repossessed and rehomed then and there. He isn't taking care of you and he does nothing but hurt you and you're too broken to recognize that nothing about this has ever, ever, ever been anything but intentional cruelty.

Then again:

Primum non nocere.

"He was just bored," Irene said. "You know how he gets when he's bored."

Ford winced and shuddered and smiled all at the same time. It made Irene's skin crawl. "Yes, I know," he said. His voice was playful, almost like that was an adequate excuse, like all was forgiven.

Irene had thought about kidnapping Ford before. Many times, in fact. She had thought about drugging him, blacking out the eyes on his jewelry and tattoos, and taking this same highway as far as she could into the omniverse. She hadn't thought about it for long. There was literally no way she could make it far enough to completely escape the All-Seeing Eye, and the one time she'd considered a more elaborate plan than a plain old cut-and-run, Cipher himself had visited her dreams to mock her for it. Besides: Irene was selfish. As long as she played nice with this one well-paying customer, she got to keep a good house with a luxury cat and disposable income in a world where many people were lucky if their organs stayed on the correct side of their skin.

Ford was not a pet. He was a grown adult man with several doctoral degrees and a prestigeous scientific reputation. Like it or not, he had the right to make his own decisions.

And the only thing that terrified him more than Bill Cipher's displeasure was the thought that Bill Cipher might possibly leave him behind.

Ford did not do well in the dog competition. He knocked over all the agility equipment and got stuck in the tube

[dsandrvk]

Saturday, September 5 - Ducie Atoll

Because of the schedule change, we needed the morning to make the distance to Ducie from Pitcairn, but it was worth the wait. Ducie Atoll is comprised of four small islands with a shark-filled lagoon in the middle. Even at high tide there is not enough clearance over the coral to bring a Zodiac in safely, as there is no channel. The original plan has been to have a Zodiac cruise near the island, and also a snorkel on the outside edge of the coral reef. Our swell from yesterday was still persistent, and once the team had lowered Zodiacs and begun scouting, it became obvious that it was too rough to snorkel. In fact, it was a challenge once again just to keep the ship in position - the second shot shows the outrun from the bow thrusters.

We were originally scheduled to do the first snorkel of three on the schedule, and the last Zodiac of three, but since we had friends who weren't planning to go out at all (actually after yesterday quite a few people were hesitant), we ignored our color group and got out on the first Zodiac with our bird guru, Joe. We had spent an hour or so coming in towards the island with him on deck, and it was so helpful in identifying the many different species found here, including four kinds of petrels. Plus, his enthusiasm is contagious. And indeed, it was wonderful birding, although we couldn't get too close to the island because of the swell.

Since this is a very rarely visited spot, the birds were as curious about us as we were of them, and flew right over our Zodiac, checking us out. It was hard to take photos because of the waves, but I got some fairly good shots with the camera (not the phone). We saw the Zodiac with our photographer and videographer suddenly take off towards the eastern end of the island, and when we looked, we could see what had gotten their attention - humpback whales! At this point the bird part of the ride was over and we headed towards larger prey. We saw a mother and her calf swim quite close to us before it became clear that the mother was resting while the calf put on a great show, breaching and flopping around - full of energy. At this point, in these warmer waters, the mother isn't feeding at all herself, but is still nursing her calf, who is growing at an astounding rate. As such, she is pretty exhausted, while the calf has boundless energy. She is also trying to keep away from amorous males who are pursuing her, preferring to wait until next year to mate when her calf is on its own.

All too soon, it was time to head back to the ship, although our Zodiac had been out longer than the original schedule. We joined the others on deck to watch whales and birds and then looked at each other and thought maybe we could double dip and go out again, this time with our proper color group. Since it seemed lots of people were passing on the opportunity, we got to the end of the line for the last trip of the day, and it worked out even better, as they split the remainder onto two Zodiacs, and ours had only five passengers. There were still whales around, and Juan Martin, our driver, is the whale guy on the ship, so it was perfect. We tore off at full speed to the far west just beyond the island, spotted a few blows and found a mother and calf, as well as a single male, who was trailing them. We kept our distance, but they kept coming closer, and it was extremely special - we must have spent about a half-hour following alongside as they headed back towards the Pursuit, keeping in the shallow water until the mother finally fluked, and her baby followed suit - we think more to get away from the male than from us.

We then spent the rest of a slow ride back to the ship looking at birds, and thinking about how lucky we have been. Like yesterday, getting on and off the Zodiac was not easy, but this time the embarkation well was not filled with calf-deep water, which made it easier. The captain had trimmed the ship to list away from the island so the water did not slosh in, and also made the Zodiac access more predictable. He also did micro movements to move the ship away from the island when a Zodiac approached, smoothing the water a bit like smoothing a tablecloth to help reduce the effect of the swell.

Once we were all loaded (we were next to last to get back on, as we had been almost last heading out) the captain dumped the ballast in the back as in the last picture. Once we were trim, we were able to start moving away. From the deck we could actually see three sets of whale blows - one set at each end of the island and a set in the middle, as well as a couple more breaches. The breach picture is one our photographer took earlier when we saw them dash off and is taken off the TV from the talk this evening - the overhead shot is from elsewhere, but is close to what we saw with mother, calf and escort male.

All in all, it was a wonderful day, and we didn't really miss the snorkeling, which would have been quite cold compared to what we have experienced up until now. From here on, there will be no more snorkeling, as the water will definitely be too cold in the Juan Fernandez islands. The good thing is that the colder the water, the more food for birds and whales, so our chance of seeing a lot more sea life is pretty good. I don't think anyone thought we would see the kind of whale activity here today, though. What a treat!

We now have two sea days until Easter Island, where we will have two days, and a couple of included tours to most of the important spots on the island. We have also signed up to do a hike to the high point, as travel here is almost impossible on one's own, since most of the island is National Park and requires both an entrance ticket and a guide. We will also have three nights between now and then, and three time zone changes, so we need to adjust.