#and it SHOWS.... your honor i love him so much

[lale-txt]

❦ IDLE HANDS (Kuroo x f!reader)

Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two.

a/n: little something for @husbandograveyard ♡ writing this made me a Kuroo girlie. i get it now. i really, REALLY do. also when i started writing this i was aiming for 1k or so idk what possessed me but here we are. maybe listening to bouncy while writing this wasn't the best idea (lie)

tags: f!reader, mild enemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, shameless flirting, food mention, bit of a slow burn, they're so in love your honor

wc: 3.7k

Kuroo Tetsuro is a heartthrob.

With his stupid messy hair and his stupid rolled up sleeves, showing off his stupid toned arms while he’s mumbling stupid sweet things to your favorite cat that’s currently coiling underneath his stupid big hand, getting the best belly rubs of her life from the looks of it. 

It’s not like you’re jealous or something, no; it’s just that you’ve been coming to this cat café for a year now and you thought you and the calico shared a special bond. Maru, who is just as her name implies, very round and very soft, has been sitting and purring by your side while you spend hours typing page after page of your next book. She’d also stretch out all over your laptop and remind you to take a break when you’ve been going at it for hours. Yes, it took you some bribery to win her heart but over the past months she really warmed up to you. Wow, she usually isn’t this friendly with people, you remember the café owner say once. 

What a blatant lie. 

Your peace has been disturbed. A slight shift in the universe when he showed up for the first time merely a week ago. It was easy to remember him, because he was sitting in your spot with your favorite cat purring in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world except maybe that untamed hair of his (and even this was kind of charming, you had to admit begrudgingly).

Sharing usually wasn’t a big deal for you–until it was. You come to this cat café almost every day, feeling much more inspired to write here than in the shoebox you call your apartment at the other end of town. Your landlady doesn’t allow pets, so this place has been a lifeline in the tiring times of deadlines and rejected book deals. At the end of the day there was always a cat rubbing against your legs, reminding you that not everything was bad and that no matter how severe things got, there was always a kitty waiting to be picked up.

You hold this place very dear to your heart, a secret gem you felt a need to protect. It is hidden away in a side street, far from the hectic buzz of the city. The interior is cozy, it isn’t too big and the owner, an elderly lady with candy cotton hair and knuckle tattoos, lives upstairs and treats the place like her second living room with all six of her cats. There’s never too many other guests around and in the corner seat by the window you can unravel your thoughts quietly. It feels homey, something you haven’t felt in a long time.

But now there is an intruder in a business suit and you didn’t really know how to deal with that new found irritation.

“That’s my spot.”

Balancing your laptop, notebook, a slice of carrot cake and a hot drink in one hand, all manners aside, you point at the stranger with your other. In your right mind you know it is rude to point at people, but to be fair he kinda started it by sitting where you rightfully belong. His eyes, a certain gleam in them, follow your movement down to the cat curled up on top of his thighs. With the amount of cat hair sticking to his suit pants you could only pray for him that he had a lint roller somewhere at his desk. 

He cocks his head to the side, giving you a boyish smirk that maybe would make your heart skip a beat if it wasn’t for his audacity. 

“Usually I ask someone’s name first and take them on a few dates before I let them sit in my lap, but I guess I can make an exception,” he replies and you never in your life before wanted to strangle someone so badly. If that wasn’t already worse enough, the tuxedo cat lifts its small head and slowly blinks at you before jumping down from his lap, as if it was trying to make space for you. My bad, didn’t know this seat was taken. Here, girl, you have it.

For once in your life you’re too stunned to speak. You watch the stranger check his watch and let out an almost inaudible sigh before he grabs his backpack (one that looks like he has had it since high school) and stands up to full height. He’s in your space now and you have to crank your neck slightly to meet his eyes. Mentally you’re adding stupidly tall to your list of things you hate about him. 

“Gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

True to his words he is there the next day, too. This time around you managed to secure your spot by the window, three cats idly sleeping next to you on. You’ve been stuck on a paragraph for almost an hour now when the doorbell chimes and his figure appears at the counter. The cats look up with interest but you force yourself not to pay any attention to him, which is hard when his order is literally “I’ll have whatever she is having”, followed by a nod in your direction and this cheeky smile again. 

This damn smile.

“You didn’t strike me as a dirty chai drinker,” you deadpan when he takes a seat at the table next to yours. The café is almost empty around this time of the day, which is no surprise since most of the workers in this district are having a hearty meal for lunch and not whatever sweet delicacies this place is offering. 

He peels himself out of his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. The same cat as yesterday jumps into his lap immediately after he sits down, giving you a look of “if you don’t want him, I’ll take him” and you almost roll your eyes. Kuroo (you learn his name from the ID he is wearing around his neck) seems to notice and he grins at you. 

“Then what did I strike you as?” he asks, his chin resting in one hand while his other finds the soft fur of the kitty, stroking it gently. 

You look him up and down, now taking your time while stretching out the silence between you two. Only the purring of the cats and the soft music in the background could be heard. At first glance he seems like your typical office worker in the three piece suit who spends his time filling out spreadsheets and drinking cheap vending-machine coffee from the conbini next door. Everything a little rumpled, himself included, someone so used to tristesse he doesn’t even notice it anymore. 

Only at second glance do you notice the small wrinkles around his eyes, not from age but from laughter. The dimples when he smiles down at the tuxedo cat in his lap, now showing off its belly. His calloused hands, atypical for an office worker, more like you’d see them at craftsmen or athletes. Something in his eyes that radiates warmth and an air of calm confidence. None of it is unpleasant.

“If I had to guess, maybe three espresso with a pump of caramel and honey,” you say, more to yourself than to him. Kuroo looks at you in surprise before barking out a laugh. You hate how you like the sound of it.

It’s the beginning of spring and you award Kuroo Tetsuro the title of the greatest nuisance you’ve ever met.

In the midst of summer, you pity him. 

“I’m just saying that maybe you radiate a natural fragrance of catnip,” you say as you stir your iced oat milk latte. Kuroo got you that one when he popped in during his lunch break and saw that your glass must have been empty for a while. By that time you were hunched over your laptop, trying to decipher your notes from last night. You had saved him a seat at your table, but if he asked you, you’d say you just happened to put all your belongings on one chair and nothing more.

The man is swarmed by the cats of the café. They didn’t even bother to hide who their favorite is, rubbing around his legs, sitting pressed to his side or just straight up climbing his shoulders. It would’ve been enviable if he wasn’t already sweating from wearing a suit in the humid heat of the summer month alone. 

“Can you get at least one or two off me?” he asks and his tone is close to pleading. It makes you laugh as you stretch out in your light sundress, giving him a look as if you’re contemplating his question. 

“I could, but it’s really much funnier seeing you struggle like that. Serves you well,” you chime and pull out your phone, snapping a photo of this moment. You hold it up for him to see, a kitty phone charm dangling from it (they just happened to come in a pack of two and you gifted him one out of generosity, nothing more). He snatches it from your hands and makes a face.

“So you like seeing me suffer, is that how it is?” he snarls at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His slender fingers fly over the screen of your phone and you let out a small gasp.

“Don’t you dare delete it,” you huff and grab the orange tabby mercifully off his shoulders so you can lean over him better. 

“Relax. I’m only saving my contact info since you never bothered asking me for it despite being my constant for the past three months.”  

There was this cheeky smile again. You blame the flutter of your heart on the caffeine and not the way his pupils are dilating when he gazes at you. 

He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Suddenly you’re very aware of how close you’re leaning over at him. Kuroo gives you a little glance from the corner of his eyes and taps the now revealed side of his neck. 

“What do you say? Do I really smell like catnip?” 

Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two. You can feel the heat radiating off him and for a brief moment you wonder what it would feel like to press open mouth kisses on his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as you engrave this moment into your heart. 

“Definitely irresistible,” you murmur once you pull back–reluctantly, as if a hidden part of you ached to be in his proximity, in the inside of his soul.  

By autumn you miss him on the days when he was gone. 

He traveled quite a lot. You didn’t know one would need to be on the road so much for something as simple as volleyball (you can imagine the look he’d give you over this). But he was passionate about it and that’s also something you liked about him. The way he talks about the sport holds so much love and you wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kuroo Tetsuro.

Gentle, you think. Honest. Treasured.

A tap against the window pulls you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you're met with a pair of honey glazed eyes. Whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s making him grin from ear to ear before he hurries towards the entry door, eager to meet you again.

Kuroo is holding up a bag, some brand of sweets from Hokkaido he’s been texting you about, but you didn’t think he’d actually go so far and bring you some. He sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he rushed all the way to get here and when he keeps on rambling, you order him and yourself a hot matcha boba and a chocolate mousse to share. 

The cats are happy to see him back too, and you laugh when you help him take his scarf off before some kitty claws can tangle up in it. It was a precious gift after all, one you knitted for him, under the feeble excuse of “keeping my hands busy helps me come up with ideas for my writing process”. It makes you happy to see him wearing it, and the color makes you feel as if you took the red string of fate connecting you two and turned it into something to help him stay warm.

You think a lot about kissing him now. Sometimes your hands would brush against each other on the table, neither of you pulling away. He spends his lunch breaks with you and comes to pick you up from the café in the evening, walking you to your station. The two of you still bicker at each other, but underneath lies a certain kind of softness, one that feels too fickle to put it into words just yet but also too bright to ignore. The leaves of the trees are falling and so are you. 

With winter comes snow and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, it’s unadulterated love. 

You spend a lot of time huddled together in the corner by the window now. He looks over your shoulder when you type on your laptop, one arm resting idly on the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your spine sometimes. You don’t think he even notices when he lets them run up and down there. Often you forget which cups on the table belong to who but it doesn’t matter since you order the same things anyway and because this could count as an indirect kiss, right? 

On some days he’d just close his eyes and laze next to you, with his head resting on his folded arms on the table and your fingers idly weaving through his hair, before he had to hurry back to work. On others he would tell you excitedly about a special match he was organizing and you can hear the pure joy in his voice. It’s contagious.You get them now, the cats. How drawn they are to him, like chasing sunbeams. 

He spells L-O-V-E on your back with his fingertips and something inside of you softens. 

Then there’s snow, more snow than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and Kuroo comes to pick you up early, the tip of his ears bright red and his cold hands seeking yours to warm them up. 

“I’m really sorry but I’m closing the shop early today,” the café owner apologizes and puts a box of cinnamon rolls for you on your table. “You two kittens better hurry and get home, too. On the radio they said they’re gonna shut everything down soon.”

It can’t be that bad, you think. But when Kuroo and you stand in front of the closed station, it dawns on you that maybe you’ve underestimated the amount of snow a teeny tiny bit. You huddle a little closer to him for warmth and to shield yourself against the snow as you pull out your phone. 

“If there’s no more trains running, I better start looking for a place to stay. With some luck there’s still a few vacant rooms in the hotels nearby…”

Kuroo puts a hand over your screen and gives you a stern look when you open our mouth to protest. 

“You can crash at my place for the night. I live close by," he mutters and it doesn’t really leave room to decline his offer. Maybe it’s not really an offer to begin with; more of a silent pleading to stay. Not just for the duration of the snowstorm, but forever maybe. 

His place is just like you imagined it would be like. Not overly spacious but it feels like a home in every corner. There’s photos on the wall, back from when he was a kid to his high school and college years, and pinned with a magnet to the fridge is also a polaroid he took of you back in summer. In it you’re laughing about something silly he said and you’re holding up two cats at once, one strap of your sundress almost slipping down your shoulder. You still remember how he fixed it for you because you didn’t have a hand free and how his fingers lingered for longer than necessary. 

You hope one day he won’t pull his hand away anymore.

The apartment is certainly not messy but you can see he lives in this place, with some papers scattered across the coffee table and the unmade bed and the slightly concerning stock of buldak noodles in the kitchen shelves (in which you peeked out of curiosity into while he was in the shower). You imagine yourself living here, too. Maybe you’d get a cat on your own and plants for the balcony once this winter was over. 

The laundry machine rumbles quietly in the background after you step out of the bathroom, too. It wasn’t just the steamy shower that had your cheeks feel hot, it was also his clothes that he put out for you, with his scent lingering on them and engulfing you softly. Kuroo appears with two cups from the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, his mouth opening and closing again as his eyes flicker over your form. He doesn’t want to stare but also he does want to stare, wants to drink you in and memorize every detail of this moment. 

You can see his Adam's apple bop slightly when he swallows and nods over to the couch, and it’s at this moment that you know you’re not leaving this apartment again before every inch of your skin has been plastered in kisses. 

“It’s not as good as the one’s at the café but I tried my best for my special guest,” he laughs quietly when he hands you your cup, his fingers brushing against yours. The hot chocolate looks impossibly sweet, with whipped cream and sprinkles on top (they’re not ordinary sprinkles, you realize, but tiny cat shaped ones), and the first sip would’ve been enough to send you in some higher spheres if you weren’t in a state of bliss due to his proximity already. You put the cups to cool down on the coffee table and sink into the couch. 

Outside the snow is falling relentlessly, muffling the sounds of the outside world and opening up a new one, right here in these four walls.

In his arms. 

Without realizing you both settled down in your now familiar positions, only closer this time. Huddled next to each other, with one of his arms around your shoulder drawing you nearer to him. It feels natural, the way your head comes to rest against his shoulder and your legs thrown over his lap, the two of you sharing a blanket. 

He’s warm. Kuroo is so warm. 

And when he presses a fleeting kiss on top of your head it’s like everything is falling in place; the months of pining and yearning and unspoken desire. In the midst of a snowstorm both of your hearts are set ablaze, with a tenderness you haven’t experienced in this lifetime before. You sure hope he will find you in the next and the one after that as well because you never want to miss his embrace ever again. 

“That’s my spot,” you murmur and Kuroo laughs, the kind with his head tilted back and his chest rumbling. His grip around you tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer, till you’re really in his lap now, your head tucked under his chin. 

“Damn right it is.” 

You can feel his heart drum, or maybe it’s your own that’s doing somersaults–either way, it’s the same rhythm, a steady thrumming and rattling, begging to be felt. Time seems to freeze at this moment and you’re both quiet. Cat’s got your tongue. Kuroo has both arms around you now, and one of his hands settles on your waist, at the part where your sweatshirt is bunched up a little. His thumb draws small patterns against your bare skin, his touch featherlight and gentle.

You lift your head, only enough so you can catch his gaze. For the first time in your life you understand what it means to have your heart in your throat, because he takes your breath away with a simple glance. His other hand comes to rest against your cheek, cupping your face softly while his grip around your waist tightens a fraction.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters and you can see his sharp teeth flash in the corner of your eyes when he laughs. 

“Like what?” “You know what.” “I think I’ll need to have it spelled out for me.”

He laughs again and this time he leans in closer till his breath is fanning over your skin and everything is happening all at once. Honey and caramel eyes asking you to drown in them. The heat of his body mingling with yours. Your fingers playing with the shaved part of hair in the back of his neck, sending small shivers down his spine.

“Oh, I’ll spell it out for you alright.”

Kuroo kisses you with all the gentleness of the world. It feels as natural as if he had done this countless times before, as if he had kissed you in every life prior to that. He hums into the kiss and smiles when your lips part for him so willingly, and then he deepens the kiss in a way that makes you forget your name for a heartbeat or two. 

Sweet, you think. Soft and saccharine. And warm. So warm. The same what loving Kuroo feels like.

[chickren]

hiii, could you elaborate on jaime's relationship with tywin in the books? and how tywin's introduction in the show diverges from that? 🥺👉👈

lol because that scene never happens in the books?

because nothing like it really happens in the books?

lmao, because, the first time we see any real sign of tywin and jaime’s relationship it’s tywin saying ‘tyrion, why do you suck while jaime is a god?’

it’s such a disservice to tyrion and cersei to pretend that jaime doesn’t have tywin’s approval, or perhaps even admiration.

unlike that weird season 1 deer scene, in the books tywin doesn’t blame jaime for being in the kingsguard. that’s aerys’s fault as far as tywin knows. after all, if tywin himself couldn’t prevent it, how could jaime? (sure we know better, but tywin doesn’t.)

and do you think tywin isn’t proud of jaime for killing aerys? do you think tywin wasn’t thinking ‘that’s my boy’ after the sack of king’s landing? that shit was right in tywin’s wheelhouse.

and then there’s the one interaction we see between jaime and tywin. jaime walks in knowing what he’s facing with twyin vs tyrion. that’s because jaime has always had tywin’s number in a way cersei and tyrion never did. why? because jaime has seen what tywin is capable of and he doesn’t like it. jaime quite literally takes tyrion’s kidnapping in agot into his own hands because he doesn’t trust tywin to look out for tyrion. as he’s on his way back to king’s landing in asos he thinks about just what he’s actually worth to his father and how much that calculation has taken a hit now that he’s short a hand.

so when tywin asks jaime to give up the kingsguard, does jaime hang his head and scuff his toe like his show counterpart? lmao. this is the difference in privilege between jaime and his siblings. jaime immediately says: noooo. and means it. not only means it, but from that moment starts plotting against tywin and cersei to save tyrion.

we see this reinforced when cersei begs jaime to save her from tywin’s machinations to marry her off again and he’s like, lol, tell that bitch no. to jaime it’s a very simple, very accomplishable thing if you don’t give a shit about tywin’s disapproval.

because jaime’s been walking away from tywin since he was a kid.

the only moment jaime even wavers in that interaction with his dad is when tywin disowns him. lol and that is not about approval. it’s because all jaime wants in the world is love, and up to this point love was a thing that existed exclusively in the realm of his family.

and lest there be any doubt, i ask you, who breaks first? the last real thing jaime hears from his father is a message sent through kevan. a peace offering, in the form of oathkeeper. here it is, son, the valyrian steel i’ve been trying to reclaim for the fam for years. it’s yours. you’re my boy.

and what does jaime do with tywin’s sword? lmao. i ask you. what does jaime do with tywin’s sword?

see, book!jaime’s story with tywin is not about tywin’s disapproval of jaime. it’s about jaime’s disapproval of tywin. it’s embedded in his chapters. it’s embedded in his character. everything about jaime’s latent lust for honor is a repudiation of twyin’s ethos.

he disapproves of tywin’s use of gregor clegane and amory lorch. he disapproves of tywin’s orders to kill aegon and rhaenys. any lack of understanding of tywin’s nature is destroyed by the tysha incident, which appalls jaime.

he isn’t looking for tywin’s approval. all he ever wanted was tywin’s love.

all of this is reinforced in feast. it’s everywhere in jaime’s vigil for tywin as he tries to do his duty but can’t cough up a single tear and even chucks the appearance of grief out the window when his living breathing son, who he definitely feels late breaking affection for, needs him. it’s when he looks around the realm and goes oh shit, this would have been tywin’s problem but now it’s mine and uses tywin’s reputation to accomplish his goals without actually employing tywin’s monstrous ruthlessness.

but mostly we know the whole show concept that jaime’s just always been trying to earn tywin’s approval is bullshit as far as book!jaime is concerned, because we’ve read jaime’s chapters and we know the truth.

it’s joanna’s disapproval that literally haunts jaime. not tywin’s.

[theonlymanny]

Bruce Wayne x Batdad Reader!

Being Bruce’s husband wasn’t as easy as you thought there were a lot of difficulties in your life while being married to him.But it was all good he loved and you loved him. Simply as that, you guys met because you where a famous singer and met at one of his galas.

At first he was all flirty and honoring his playboy persona. You didn’t show any interest at first because who doesn’t flirt with M/n. But Bruce was kind of charming and really nice. Beside everything you heard from him. And then you woke beside him in bed. “Oh my fucking-” anyway- let’s leave that behind.

After that night you thought he would leave you like it never happened and keep going on with his life, but surprisingly he invited you on a date. A couple years later you met Alfred a really nice person and enjoyed your company. And all of that disappeared because your 5 year boyfriend left you without a word for 10 fuckin years.

“Hey Alfred have you heard from Bruce I didn’t see him today” “oh master M/n… I thought you knew…” after that you promised to never trust anyone that easily, sure it affected you but you weren’t going to stop and be miserable. You decided to take out some new songs.

“M/N is back!” Your fans were going crazy! Everybody thought you quit the music career and left. And… Bruce well not like he didn’t care about you he just wanted to make a change. He was training to protect you and Alfred. And then he was there your “boyfriend” you were spending time with Alfred. You weren’t going to leave him alone for 10 whole years!

“H- hi umm…” Bruce looked at you. He looked much muscular and old… “ Alfred I think I should go…” you took your things and while you were about to open the door Bruce grabbed your hand. “Don’t you-” “please let me explain…” you lost right there “what Bruce!? Explain that you left me for 10 years!” Bruce was shocked. He remembered you much calmer and shy.

You let him explain why he leaved you. Because you were still young you gave him another opportunity. Some years later you met Richard or Dick who you protected with your life and refused to let him be robin. “Sweetheart please…” you refused to look at him “Bruce it’s too dangerous for a literal kid to be fighting grown ass men or women who want to hurt him!” Dick heard your discussion somewhat regretting he asked Bruce to be his sidekick. You saw Dick on the corner wanting to cry… “oh… Richard why are you crying?” “I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to fight I I- just wanted to help.” You sighed “I’m not sure if I’m going to regret this but… I guess you can go help Bruce…” Bruce smiled and Dick celebrated and hugged you. “Thank you!” You looked at Bruce and said darkly“Bruce if something happens you are going to regret being Batman” Bruce only laughed and hugged both of you.

After some years Dick grew older and became a teenager. “Hey Dick what do you want to eat today?” Dick really grew trust in you that he called you dad first than Bruce. “Dunno dad maybe some pancakes??” And while Dick and Bruce were patrolling Bruce found Jason a young boy trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason really liked you he had a better relationship with you then Bruce or Dick. He would often ask you to read him books. It was like that until that day… Joker captured Jason. “hey Bruce!” When you went to the bat cave you only found Dick and Bruce. “Where’s Jason?” You were more then devastated when he died.

You and Bruce barely spoke, Dick tried to make you both love each other again, but he couldn’t even make you both sleep in the same bed. After 1 or 2 years Bruce decided to adopt another kid. Tim. That’s when you started thinking about divorce.

“Really!? Another kid you wanna harm this one too?” You started loosing respect from Bruce, but there was nothing you could do he was so stubborn.

In those years that Tim became and trained to be a robin. You also trained… to kill the guy that took your son. You learned how to use every weapon you had on your use, you where stronger and faster, and learned a lot of fight movements.

The day you heard your third son was captured… you didn’t let Bruce handle this. You went there by yourself with a shotgun,gun, rifle, a lot of more utensils that would help you get your son back.

The building was quiet there was no sign of life but only lifeless body’s all around you opened the door and automatically shot the Joker on his knee. “Aaaaaaaaah!” He screamed in agony while watching you above him. “Tim… go.” Tim looked at you and before he left he hugged you. “It will be okay…” after you made sure he left you grabbed a metal pipe and left the Joker on a wall. “Hahahahahahah! Let me guess you are going to kill me! WOW I’m so scared!” You looked at him angrily and hit him with the metal pipe. “ SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He spat blood all over the floor. “Batsy is not gonna let you kill me” he laughed quietly. “Well guess what… I will make sure he doesn’t interfere. And I my self will make sure you don’t take anyone else’s kid again” Joker looked confused but then realized. “You are robins Dad! Batman’s husband!” That name hurted you… “well guess what it was so fun I don’t regret it.” He was pushing your limits. You started breathing loudly and one by one you killed the man that killed your kid.

————————————————————————

Hey yall! I think this was my longest post but I hope y’all like it. I leaved a tlou reference In there. That’s all! There might be part 2 tho.

[anonymous-existences]

DPxDC Prompt 8:

Danny is a streamer but, this is a philza situation where he is an internet Dad. Dani is his adopted daughter and they've been staying in Gotham for a long time, Danny has a lot of money saved up with being a ghost king and his job as one of the professional engineers in WE.

Dani Befriends Damian in Highschool and Ever since then they've acted like any siblings would until Dani introduces Danny's streaming platform, Danny started to stream out of boredom and to share his interests. Damian gets hooked onto it especially with the Older man's obvious care for the environment as well as his honest and upfront opinions and statements but also his gentle father demeanor. Damian shows Tim just because Dani said it'd be good for Danny's platform.

Bruce wanted to be a cool dad and understand why Tim and Damian are suddenly all so close about one specific topic and why they have similar merch they buy. Damian gives in and finally introduces Bruce to the internet, and Danny.

Shenanigans Ensue, he finds out Danny works at WE but decided to take the slow route as to not scare the pretty older man. >:) you get the gyst from here.

Damian and Tim are distraught, Danny and Their Dad are hitting it off and now he's their dad's boyfriend, Elle is exasperated and in denial. Damian, Tim and Ellie are all in denial and would like to live in their normal delusion thank you very much.

Something like this with Damian and Tim are bonding over their distraught with Danny(favorite streamer) and their dad hit it off but also still their usual much more subtle arguments.

"This is all your fault Demon Brat." Tim sighs exasperated, staring at Danny and their father from afar having a sweet and lovely chat in a cafe.

"I regret accepting your offers of learning from internet Danielle." Damian sneered glancing over to Ellie who was with them, stalking their fathers. "Not my fault you obliged to my question." She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Damian and Tim gasped, Ellie Grumbled as Danny gave Bruce a kiss on the cheek, causing Bruce's face to flush up a tone of red.

"Drake, end me now, honorably stab me in the heart before I commit it myself." Damian said grabbing Tim by the cuffs of his neck and weakly shaking him, visibly distraught and in disbelief.

"I need Bleach in my eyes..." Ellie groaned and dragging her hands to her scalp as she crouched on the ground.

Tim was frozen, malfunctioning mentally trying to erase the scene he had just witnessed.

"Drake! Snap out of your measely trance you imbecile!" Damian shook him harder as he held back the urge to slam Tim to the wall as Ellie continued to groan and grumble in agony.

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Good/Complicated Mom Deirta

This week, we've got ten fics that feature a Deirta Thelyss as either a good - or at least complicated mother. Check them out underneath the cut, and comment and kudos if you like them!

What Luminous Worlds Await by essektheyless (divinationwizard) (178674, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

After a thousand years of sleep, the Luxon's Champion reawakens to a changed Exandria. The memory of Caleb is ever present, the soul of his mother is tucked in the beacon he carries, and Leylas' madness is tumbling the world toward war again.

Reccer says: The second person narrative gives this such an immediacy! This fic makes me wish I could temporarily forget everything I know about CR so I could try reading it completely fresh; I think it would hold up and be a very cool way to be introduced to the world.

some things time can't fix by Chrome (25930, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is arrested for treason. The Dynasty severs the daemons of prisoners before executing them so they can’t be reborn.

Reccer says: great hurt comfort and an AU, but also a nice depiction of a caring Deirta

Lay Your Bones by LadyOrpheus (53578, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Thinking only of justice and restoring his family's honor after Essek's betrayal, Verin Thelyss finds something he never expected, an Essek he never expected. A mission for justice turns into a race against time and a family finds their world upended.

Reccer says: I love how complicated Deirta is in this fic - that she's bound by her station but still finding ways to act on Essek's behalf

Not the Needle, Nor the Thread by Operafloozy (2149, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Consecuted Deirta is forced to live with her son from another life, it's Essek, things are complicated.

Reccer says: It's part of a series and I loved the series so much, this installment really focusses on Deirta and Essek and also the hurt they caused eachother and how to continue on now that they are both different people.

(and) i'll come running if you call by vagabondfirelily (6489, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Essek goes to Bazzoxan to save Verin. Doing that, he runs into his mother.

Reccer says: It is so bittersweet and so realistic. A very good portray of a complicated relationship between two very similar people. And Verin is there!

until it doesn't hurt by breitweisergallery (3.8k, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

5 times Deirta sends to her sons and one time they send to her

Reccer says: I liked it!

When Broken Shells Make Christmas Bells by LuckyOwlsFoot (12348, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Rape/Non-con, Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent, Non-consensual arranged marriage, threats of rape (nothing explicitly happens)

Essek gets forced into an arranged marriage to avoid execution and Caleb rescues him at the altar.

Reccer says: Lots of Essek angst and comfort and support from Deirta and Verin

a star in your sunset by Laeveteinn (2200, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Discussion or implications of a suicide attempt

When I find you at the foot of the stairs, my first thought is that a stranger is wearing my son’s face, because there is a standing call for Essek Thelyss's arrest the moment he is seen this side of the Ashkeepers.

Reccer says: It's from Deirta's point of view - which feels rare, and the way that the author shows how well Deirta actually knows and loves Essek - how much we can figure out about Essek's emotional state and probable motives - is amazing, especially with how little is said.

And then we have multiple recs for these last two fics!

And After the Scripture (Your Mother Beside Me) by SaltCore (9531, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death

Essek is so very loved - so much so, that when he dies, his mother enlists the Nein to smuggle him out of Rosohna so that he may live again.

Reccer 1 says: What isn't there to like? Deirta gets explored as a mother, as a leader, and as a person. The Drow society gets examined and sketched out, painted with a history that reaches back before the Calamity. We get to see more of the Thelyss family, and we see the respect that these strangers give to the Nein solely based on the fact that Essek loved them. The interactions Deirta have with the Nein (mostly Caleb) highlight how shrewd and savvy she is, completely zooms in on what it must be like to be an Umavi, even from the Nein's POV. It's such a stunning story, both in craft and content! Reccer 2 says: the characterization in this fic is incredible. for a character who never appears on screen, deirta has a real tendency to haunt the narrative for a lot of shadowgast writers. the version of her who appears here is a completely convincing—and heartbreaking—portrayal of both one of the most powerful people in the dynasty and someone who is fundamentally essek's mother in spite of that. it makes me cry every time i read it, in the best possible way. mind the warnings—but even as someone who has a hard time with major character death fics, this one is completely worth the read. Reccer 3 says: Genuinely my favorite depiction of Deirta Thelyss I’ve seen. Incredibly complicated but so clearly loves her children in a way that makes sense for a woman that old.

Starburst Hearts by kaeda (4805, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Told from Deirta’s pov. A meeting between mother and son while Essek has been on the run.

Reccer 1 says: One of my favorite characterizations for Deirta as a complicated person who loves her son but struggles to show it and doesn’t understand him well. Also a lovely outsider’s perspective on the dynamic of the Mighty Nein as well as Caleb/Essek. Reccer 2 says: It's so wonderfully bittersweet! Also the outsider perspective on the rest of the Nein is very funny

Want more fics with Deirta? Check out our reclist themed with featuring another Thelyss!

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. 

And hey, anyone includes you, if you're so inclined!

Next week, we'll be featuring fics with Astrid and/or Eadwulf in them. Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

[burningcheese-merchant]

Would it be okay to have a small story request I've found? It's based on a small comic of Burning Spice and Golden Cheese that Burning Spice got a cold and his little birdy laughed at him that, him, the Beast Of Destruction caught a cold, but that backfired when Burning Spice kissed her with his sickness. In the end the two end up getting sick.

Golden Cheese: Are you feeling better now?

Burning Spice: Yes

I know what you're talking about! That little comic by wabeceucho on Twitter, right? I love them, they make premium BurningCheese content. I'd be happy to whip up a short for you, wouldn't be the first time I got inspired by that artist ngl lol

"Contagious" - BurningCheese Short #8

Spice gets sick. Golden laughs. Golden pays the price for laughing.

Jumping ahead into the far future where Burning Spice is Fixed™️ and he and Golden are happy together haha

The last thing Burning Spice ever wanted to be reminded of when he looked at Golden Cheese was Shadow Milk. He cared for that man, he was happy to call him friend, their bond may have grown strained in those years they spent as villains, both imprisoned and not, but it never broke - but good Witches, could he be damn near impossible to tolerate at times. The teasing grin always bubbling at his mouth's surface; the smirk always tugging at the corners of his lips. The witty remarks at EVERY situation, regardless of severity. And most of all - worst of all - his love of saying "I told you so". Shadow Milk never allowed himself to miss an opportunity to have that sort of laugh at another's expense, be they friend or foe. Burning Spice found it funny when it was "foe", not so much when it was "friend". Least of all when it was him.

He had hoped that he would never have to endure Shadow Milk's derision, or anything like it, from anyone else besides him again; one clown's jokes were more than enough. But it would seem as though the clown's laughter had become contagious.

...Sure, he and Golden Cheese always bickered and bantered, as they were wont to do since the beginning. It was normal. He quite enjoyed it. But not now. Not when the trembling of her shoulders, and that hysterical smile on her face, and that slender finger pointed at him reminded him too much of that ridiculous blue clown friend of his, and made him wonder if a puppet show mocking his hubris would be held in his honor soon.

...Maybe he deserved it.

"I-I'm sorry," Golden Cheese laughed. "But I simply have to laugh, my darling! The Beast of Destruction, catching a common cold! The sight of it! Hahaha!"

Burning Spice crossed his arms and sniffled huffed. "Yeah, I get it. The first round of your high-pitched giggling told me as much."

"And all the other ones will keep reminding you, I'm sure," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "Honestly, you begged for this. What were you thinking, skulking around the Dark Cacao Kingdom without a coat? I told you it would be freezing!"

"And I told you that only weaklings need protection from the elements," he snapped. "I've traveled to every corner of this earth and never been worse for wear. You think a little bit of snow would do anything to me?"

"I do and I did, and I was right," she said. "It's why I kept telling you to bundle up before we went to visit my old friend. Cacao even offered you one of his robes when we first arrived there, as he's not so far from you in size and no one knows that place's bitter cold better than he does. But you chose to be proud and look where that got you."

"Hmph!" He scowled at her. "I know my own limits. I was fine the entire time we were there. Only now did this... this stupid cold catch up to me."

She started to laugh again. "Perhaps it's better this way," she told him, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "Better here at home than back there, where more people besides myself can witness how stupid you are."

He harrumphed again and stood there, pouting at her and stifling a cough as she laughed at him some more - until his expression suddenly changed from irritated to... mischievous.

"Tell me, then, little bird," he said, "Haven't you ever gotten sick before? Or is Her Radiance too good for a cough and a fever?"

"Me? Once or twice in my youth," she said nonchalantly. "Why do you ask? Are you expecting me to tell you my own tale of pride and woe so you can feel less alone in your foolishness?"

No answer. Just a conniving smile slowly stretching across Burning Spice's face.

"What?" For just a moment, her confidence faltered, and was replaced by confusion. "What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Still nothing. Just a low chuckle.

"Alright, fine." She buckled under the weight of his gaze and that smile a bit further. "Perhaps I, too, was foolish like you were. Perhaps I thought myself invincible, only to have to lay by a fireplace for days while my friends nursed me back to health. Perhaps I even had someone wagging their finger at me, too. There, is that better? Does that bandage the gaping hole in your ego somewhat?"

He first answered her by taking a menacing step towards her, then he chuckled again and said:

"You thought yourself invincible, huh? You're speaking as if you no longer do."

Now it was her turn to huff and puff. "Well... I AM the Golden Sovereign, am I not? After everything I've accomplished and endured, I think I have the right to believe that about myself."

"Do you?" The smile grew bigger. "You just admitted that you were the same sort of fool I was once. Even golden sovereigns can fall sick." Now the smile was a face-splitting grin. "And it shall happen again."

"What-?"

He was upon her in a flash, before she could even fully register he was there (how could someone so big still be so fast?). Into his arms she went, trapped in a feverish embrace - and her eyes widened in shock when he quickly leaned down and pressed a big, wet kiss to her lips.

"What the-" Another kiss to silence her. "Stop-" Another one. "Burning Spice-" Deeper, more dramatic, a playful lick at her lips as a finishing touch. "What are you doing?!"

"Getting my revenge," he said. "This is what happens when you laugh at me."

"It isn't as if you don't deserve-" No, no more of that. Only more warm kisses - warmer than usual, thanks to the sickness - to put an end to her unwanted protests.

"You brute." Mwah. "You savage." Mwah. "You moron." Mwah. "I still told you so."

"I know," he said. He brought his lips down to her neck. "And now you must pay for it."

"It won't work," she grumbled. "I know what you're doing."

"We'll see."

"I take care of myself, unlike you." Even against her better judgment, she bent her head back to allow him further access. "I'll be fine."

"We'll see," he said again, before he started peppering her neck with those kisses she could never bring herself to say no to.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yes, actually," Burning Spice said with a smile. "Better than I've felt in ages, even."

"Wonderful," she muttered. She pulled the blanket around her tighter, desperate to stifle the chills. "Then that means you don't need your medicine anymore. Hand it over to me so it doesn't go to waste."

"No." He turned onto his side to face her, gesturing for her to come closer. "I can give you a bit of warmth, though. It seems like you need it more."

She grumbled, but nevertheless shuffled over to him, snuggling into his chest and sighing softly as he wrapped his arms around her. As if on cue, the chills grew weaker.

"I still maintain that I told you so," she murmured.

"And I maintain the exact same thing," he said. "We're even."

"As long as no one knows of this, it's fine," she sighed. "I can already hear Smoked Cheese's taunts from here..."

"And I could hear Shadow Milk's when you were mocking me before," he said. "Like I said. We are even now."

"...Fair enough."

They lay in silence for a little while, his face nuzzled into her hair and her feeling and listening to the beat of his heart in his chest.

...Until he felt like talking again. "Hey. Little bird."

"Hm?"

"I just remembered something."

"Did you, now."

"I did." She felt his hands start to trail downwards, resting on her hips. "Sex can actually aid in recovery from an illness, did you know?"

"..."

"It boosts the immune system, I think... And the pleasure can act as a natural painkiller, too. But I'm not entirely sure it's true... Why don't we test it to be sure?"

"Take your medicine and go to sleep, Burning Spice."

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

Every time I came back to this draft to work on it, the "keep reading" divider was in a different place and I had to keep moving it back. It annoyed the shit out of me. There's Merchant's complaint for the day

[tixdixl]

Is there anything specific that you really love about your ocs?

Thank you so so much for asking this? First, I'm honored and incredibly appreciative of you for asking. And second, you really got me thinking about what I *do* love about them and why I continue to explore them even after 11 months of being in this fandom space.

So this is going to seem like a generic, generalized response, but it is something that applies to all of them.

I really love how each of my OCs, at least in my perspective, very very clearly can be traced back to their source materials while simultaneously being their own characters.

Starting with Oisín, Oisín from the get go was always meant to align both with "The Headless Horseman" and also dullahan mythology (specifically Irish and Scottish folklore). And yet, because of the way they evolved and the way I developed them in alignment with the narrative of "Twisted Wonderland", they became their own being. --- idk if folks even knew this. I never set out to have them shipped with Lilia. It entirely developed naturally and on its own. And it has turned into arguably my favorite ship out of all of them. The Headless Horseman??? Married to a Vampire???? Incredible. Amazing. 10/10

Then you have Kingsley and like... he is so at his core the Horned King, and every which way you look at his narrative, even his character development? It aligns itself in the way that the narrative of the "Chronicles of Prydain" unfolds. Even when he has his seige on the castle, it feels on par with the actions of the Horned King or any of the other antagonists from the series. His temperment and his personality? 100% - and yet his choices are his own. His narrative is his own. He gets the Cauldron. He gets to KEEP the Cauldron. Its HIS. Not Tarran's!!!!!

René, Rémi, and Eve are so painfully the main trio of "Swan Lake" (the ballet). And yet René's entire narrative and personality is contingent on a question that the ballet NEVER answers or even considers: "Who is Odile without Rothbardt?" And so the Odile we get in NRC, René, is my interpretation of who Odile would be when alone. How she would act if functioning on her own and without the evil magician. So sure, René is Odile. But René also is René. And only René.

Emil holds an incredibly special place in my heart where this theme is concerned. I don't think many people are aware of the anti-semitism in "Tangled". So when I thought of the idea of a Dame Gothel expy, I went in with the idea of creating a Gothel who just was Jewish coded but not a charicature. I incorporated elements from the original Rapunzel tale, the adaptation of "Into the Woods", "Tangled", and added flavor in the form of jewish beliefs and jewish customs. It's resulted into a character who is very very clearly Gothel in his narrative and in his personality and in his relationships, but he isnt restricted by the narrative or characterization as depicted by Disney. He has grown beyond that just like the beanstalk that ended up in his bestie's backyard. Also-- his Overblot? Chef's kiss.

Xiáng is ESPECIALLY fun here. Because when I originally created him, I didn't have a Disney character in mind. He showed up an amalgamation of different ideas and themes from stories I've read recently that I really enjoyed. And then @inmateofthemind popped into my DMs and asked me if Xiáng was twisted from Crikee from "Mulan". And I sat there. And i looked at all the drawn comparisons. And i couldn't deny.... the parallels were to strong not to lean into it. And the more I leaned into it? The more and more he showed himself to BE Crikee. And yet he so ISNT!!!!!! It's honestly so fun.

Sefu is also really fun, because they came from a rewatch of Lion King 2: Simba's Pride with @ramshacklerumble . And I honestly just gave myself permission to take the idea of Zira and REALLY LEAN into the yandere, creepy territorial fan aspect of her character. It also gave me the opportunity to explore how I personally think Zira's dynamic with Scar looked like, based on the implications set out by the film. We never get to see it in the media, which means that Sefu does have the opportunity to expand beyond the scope of Disney, and I do get to determine how much Leona actually can't stand them lol.

Alphonse too is such a fun one. Because his source material depicts the Wellies as incredibly static and yet emotionally driven characters, I get the opportunity to explore the question "What would allow the Wellies (from "Giselle" the ballet) to actually move on and rest in the after life?" It's also a fun opportunity to explore the very blurred lines between fae and ghosts in older Anglo/Irish folklore, as the Wellies were supposed to be inspired by the Otherfolk.

If you're still reading this- thank you so much for sticking around?? Genuinely, I appreciate it and I hope you enjoyed the read. If you want more specific details about any of the things mentioned, please don't hesitate to ask!

Tag list: @ramshacklerumble @the-trinket-witch @starry-night-rose @elenauaurs @rainesol

@cyanide-latte @winterweary @theleechyskrunkly @thehollowwriter @boopshoops

@lumdays @twstinginthewind @inmateofthemind

[s-wave-entertainment]

*BAM*

THAT WAS THE SOUND OF ME BUSTING THE DOOR DOWN. HI. Okay so first thing's first, I recently saw an animatic (??) by @/armintist on Instagram about N's perception of Tessa as of ep. 6 and it has broken the dam. Your honor I think about what must have been going through his head at that given moment So Often; some may say too often (I know my roommate definitely would, sorry Anna-). Y'all, he literally just remembered her existence and because we have no canon timeline as to how long was between eps. 5&6, I'm going to assume it was no LESS than two hours, IF EVEN. Doll could have gone straight to "Tessa" from Uzi's house, we'll never know. But like... what in the fuck was going on in his brain? This person, who he KNOWS that he knows, that he has vague, barely comprehensible memories of from a time far back into his past that he only just got back, is suddenly standing right in front of him again. And he hesitates, because OF COURSE HE DID. It looks like her (or does it? He doesn't remember his face, he never even truly saw it), it sounds like her, it feels like her... but how long has it been? And why here, why now?

Honestly, "Cyn's" pretty smart. She knew he would be willing to go along with what he told her because he's never really pressed into his memories before. He's relieved the tidbits of them, sure, but he tends to acknowledge them and move on. She knew all she had to do was act right and he would probably trust her. But what she didn't account for was him finding a love worth fighting for, and that's where her ultimate fucky-wucky was. But I'm not here to talk about "Cyn's" strategy, I'm here to talk about our beloved traumatized murder robot puppy.

What do you think happened when it hit him that that skin over Cyn's body wasn't of it's own creation? That his friend was technically still alive, if you count her preserved remains being thrown over a robot body like some sick and twisted reverse fursuit. And it can't be said that that didn't happen, because it definitely did. N's little episode in the hallway while "Cyn" hunted them down showed us that he is in fact recovering his memories. Slowly, and at very unfortunate times, but he is. And I can almost guarantee you that at some point, in some way, he must have recovered the full memory of the gala massacre. And oh me oh my, that must have been a long, hard day for him. Thank God he has Uzi now-

That aside, he must eventually realize what happened. And as he remembers more and more good times with her, his little heart probably just shattered more and more. Along with all of the other BULLSHIT he must be remembering following ep. 8.

AND ANOTHER THING ON THAT NOTE. I have so so so many emotions about N and how good he is and how,,,, Genuinely Good his heart is. Like actually. Y'all, need I remind the court that he was supposed to KILL Uzi. He had her PINNED TO THE WALL with a wing, but after watching her father turn around and ABANDON HER, he stopped. And sure, it can be reasonably said that this is because he spent some time with Uzi beforehand, but how long would they have had together, logistically? Ten minutes, maybe twenty, tops?? The fact that that was enough for him to COMPLETELY CHANGE SIDES and want to help her instead (which is also attributed to the conversation they had in the cockpit but again, TEN MINUTES)... listen, Uzi had no one before she found N, but N had no one either. J openly abused him, and V had to act like she hated him to protect him. N was lonely, just like Uzi. Somehow, someone found him who was kind to him and seemed to actually care. She was a little edgy, but she talked to him and she listened. It was more than he had at the base - and the same was true for Uzi. But again, I could talk about how much I love NUZI for hours, right now I want to talk about how good N's heart is. He was a worker, once. A worker who did everything he could to be... useful, to Tessa's parents, but a good friend to Tessa. And he loved his friends. He has,,, so much love in his heart. He always has. And he gives it so readily, and it can hurt him, but he like - he gets better about it, I believe. He can guard himself better these days, but he just. He still cares. And he cares so much and he just. GOD. GOD I LOVE HIM AND I FEEL SO TERRIBLE FOR WHAT HE'S BEEN THROUGH. FUCKING HELL-

[enigmaticexplorer]

Thank you so much! Knowing that you think its end is fulfilling for the story means so much to me!

I feel it fits the path his character took in this story and it makes sense for who he is (imo). I do like that he still comes to visit sometimes.

Cody's ending was one I always knew would play out this way but it was one I tried to resist because it hurt me so much. But I'm glad that you see how this ending fits his character! Since the rest of the story is from Kazi's POV, it was hard developing the brothers and their relationships together, so it was important to me to showcase that in this final chapter.

This is a beautiful project! And such a great way for Fox's story to come full circle! I have really enjoyed how you wrote Fox in this story, I love his focus on his brothers being remembered and honored as they deserve.

It felt like such a Fox thing - to deal with his guilt in a way that memorializes his brothers. Fox was such a fun character to write, and he surprised me! I loved exploring how he struggles with so much guilt but is also borderline apathetic; all he cares about are his closest brothers, and so this project is a way for him to show that he cares for others and manage his guilt.

First of all: the description of Kazi as Wolffe sees her!? Excuse me!? I think I might die this is so beautiful!

Thank you! The best part of writing a MMC's POV is getting to see how he views the FMC. It's very important to me for the MMC to view the FMC as a human, and to recognize her individuality and personality without over-sexualizing her.

I think dad!Wolffe may be one of my favorite things.

It's one of my favorite things, too! I just love how his gruffer personality is transformed with a child. Yeah, he's not overly emotional, but he cares in his own way (and I just love the gruff dad being soft for his daughter).

Thank you so much for joining me on this journey (and for sharing all the gifs!)! Your support has meant a lot to me! 🤍

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Epilogue

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 4.2K

Three Years Later

28 Melona

“Another year, Wolf’ika.” Cody paused on the grassy path and appraised the orchard. “You should be proud of this.”

Wolffe flashed his vod a smile. “I am.”

In the six months since Cody last visited, the citrus-star trees had matured past their two-year adolescence into adulthood. Their trunks had thickened into sturdy structures larger than Neyti’s body; the lowest branches skimmed Wolffe’s head.

Wolffe and Kazi had planted the twenty seeds together but the orchard was his responsibility. Hours researching Ceaia’s nutrient-rich soil, speaking with local farmers, tilling the soil, and caring for the seeds paid off. The orchard produced bunches of citrus-stars monthly. Enough for his family. And enough to sell at the local farmer’s market. 

“I’ve added a new beehive,” Wolffe said. He gestured to the end of the row where an amber hive hung from a branch, well hidden among the dense cluster of leaves. It was his fifth hive. And his most productive. “It’s done well.”

“To know that you did become a farmer…” Cody chuckled his incredulity. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

Wolffe inclined his chin in agreement. 

While Kazi worked at Outlook Harbor’s Museum of History and Neyti attended school, Wolffe spent his days out here alone: tending the orchard; nurturing the garden’s assortment of fruits, vegetables, and herbs (for both meals and Nova’s research); monitoring the bees. ‘Til Fox interrupted. Then his quiet and solitude were ruined. 

But the early morning hours, after his run, he had to himself. Just him and the lazing leaves and the humming bees. 

“Kazi and Neyti?” Cody asked. They hadn’t been at the house when he landed half an hour ago.

“Weekly lessons at the museum,” Wolffe said.

The lessons began two years ago when, intrigued by Kazi’s translation work, Neyti asked to learn the ancient Ceaian language. Kazi agreed with a casual smile. But Wolffe had seen her hidden delight. Her excitement. He was well-studied in her subtle tells, after all. 

“I’m meeting them later,” Wolffe added. Cody arched a brow, and he shrugged with a chuckle. “I don’t know where we’re going. They want it to be a surprise.”

The gray of dawn cast the orchard in foggy darkness, dulling the pale orange of the trees’ fronds. Wolffe reached for a leaf larger than his hand and rubbed it between his fingers; the fuzzy trichomes tickled his palm. It brought a half-smile to his face.

They continued forward, turning at a fork in the path where, frowning, Cody nudged a pink bush with his boot.

“Neyti and Steiner like to play here,” Wolffe explained. He smiled. “I couldn’t say no. And they’re good for the bees.”

His vod shook his head fondly. “And Fox?”

Wolffe ducked beneath a branch. “You could ask him.”

“I could.” But he wouldn’t. 

Cody returned to Coruscant the week they completed renovation on the lighthouse. The decision had gutted Neyti as much as it angered Fox. Fox had expected them to remain together. To settle down and remove themselves from the threat of the Empire. To live out the rest of their lives in relative peace. But Cody disagreed with Fox’s sentiments. They argued; they parted on bad terms.

Every few months, Cody visited. He spent most of his time painting with Neyti, helping Wolffe with the garden, hiking with Nova. During those brief visits, Fox disappeared to the lighthouse. He avoided meals. Avoided any interaction with Cody. For Fox, Cody’s decision to leave Ceaia—to leave his vode—was a betrayal. 

A year and a half dredged by before Fox begrudgingly apologized. Cody accepted the apology with characteristic understanding. Wolffe knew the fight had weighed on Cody; just like he knew Fox would never understand Cody’s decision. 

But Wolffe understood Cody’s decision. Cody threw himself into work to deal with his guilt, and working with Rex and the clone network provided an escape. 

Wolffe also knew that Cody couldn’t remain on Ceaia. Not after Daria’s death. He hardly blamed his vod. The nightmares still haunted him on occasion. Nightmares where Daria and Neyti deboarded the transport at the Naboo spaceport without Kazi. Each time he awoke sweaty and panting, reaching for Kazi. 

Touching her, feeling her heartbeat in her wrist, sliding his finger along the tattoo of his initials—W.E.—on the inner skin of her fourth finger—it freed him from the nightmare’s lingering grasp. 

He didn’t blame Cody. Not one fucking bit. 

“Fox helps with the garden and orchard. But he doesn’t like the bees,” Wolffe said. Cody smirked in amusement. “He’s been spending a lot of time carving the fence.”

Nearby, a detailed dragon prowled the top of the dark-wooded fence protecting the orchard. Cody admired the carving. “And the annals?”

Last year, the annals evolved from Fox’s personal project to a museum-financed publication. It was Nova’s idea: an admitted desire to publicly preserve the stories of the vode he’d lost. 

“They deserve to be remembered,” Nova had told Wolffe and Fox late one night while he paced the carpeted basement. “And not just by me. But by the people they protected, too.”

Kazi had recently started her job at the museum (as a translator of the dying Ceaian language, she was scribing some of the oldest scrolls on loan from the Library of Xand), and reached out to the museum’s director. 

A few private meetings led to an agreement: Fox would organize his interviews into a chronological timeline, and the museum would publish the stories into three annals. They would be the first historical record of the War. The only record from the soldiers who fought in it. 

“They’re coming along,” Wolffe said. New interviews continued to appear every few months thanks to Cody’s efforts to connect various men with Fox. “The first two years are almost complete.”

Cody gave a pleased nod. 

The path veered to the right, toward the house. Low-hanging leaves tickled their hair and brushed their shoulders. They passed through the gate, wandering deeper into the forest, the tree cover thickening. The smell of burning wood drifted on the breeze; they followed its scent.

“I have another interview,” Cody said. At his smug tone, Wolffe snorted. “From Rex.” 

Wolffe blinked his surprise. “He agreed?” 

Cody smirked. “I convinced him.”

“You’re next,” he said. Cody rolled his eyes, and he shoved his vod in the shoulder. “Stop being a prick.”

“You haven’t done it,” Cody retorted.

“Did it last week.” He winked at his vod’s appalled look but soon sobered, shrugging. “It was time.”

“Fuck.” Cody scrubbed a hand across his jaw. Weariness lined his eyes and forehead, and he let out a deep sigh. “I’ll…think about it.”

Nearing the front of the house, the low voices of Fox and Nova discernible over the crackle of the fire, Cody motioned for Wolffe to halt. He angled his head toward Nova. “How’s he doing?”

“Nova’s a grown man, Cod’ika,” Wolffe said gently. “He’s making his own life. And he’s doing a damn good job at it.”

“I know,” Cody murmured. “I thought that…” He cleared his throat and straightened. “I’m glad he’s doing well.”

Wolffe was surprised when Nova decided to stick around after Cody left. Throughout the War, and after, he’d remained loyal to Cody. The type of loyalty only the best commanding officers earned from their subordinates. Wolffe had once earned a similar loyalty from his men. Before Order 66. Before he bailed on the Empire. Before he fled his own men trying to gun him down for betraying orders.

But Wolffe quickly realized the reason behind Nova’s decision: Nova was ready to move on from the past. And that meant parting ways with Cody. 

Within a few weeks of Cody’s departure, Nova applied for a researcher’s job at the local med center. There, he began researching a medicinal alternative to bacta. A solution to the Empire’s control and restriction over the healing aid. (Kazi gave him Daria’s old research books for inspiration or potential leads.)

The work kept Nova busy most days but he seemed to enjoy it. Neyti had even shown an interest in his work. Some afternoons, after school, he took her to the med center and let her help with his experiments. 

“You know,” Wolffe said, clapping a hand to Cody’s back, “there’s a place for you here. Whenever you want it.”

“The Rebellion needs me—”

“You need the Rebellion.” Wolffe levelled a hard look at Cody. “But it won’t clear your conscience.”

Cody squared his shoulders. “Yeah. I know.”

Wolffe offered him a grim smile and then made his way toward the sputtering fire. The embers glowed in the darkness of the evergreen and sequoia forest; the flames kept the early morning shadows at bay.

For the next two hours, Wolffe and his vode downed glasses of whiskey, swapped stories they all knew, and played rounds of sabaac. Nova won; Wolffe was convinced he’d cheated. 

As the forest lightened, the whiskey warming his blood, Wolffe tugged a sweater over his head, nodded to the others, and then started the trek to the docks. He was unsurprised when Fox followed.

The grassy cliff path spat them out at the shore. The low tide revealed bubbling sand pockets, a burrowing crab, and the booted footprints of a woman and child who’d passed through earlier. 

“Three years,” Fox said, surveying the faint sunrise with a pensive expression. “A lot has changed.”

“It’s what you wanted,” Wolffe remarked.

“Yeah.” Slowly, his vod rolled the sleeves of his maroon sweater. “Never thought I’d end up on an ocean planet again.”

He chuckled. “It’s better than Kamino.”

“Anywhere is better than there,” Fox said. The vitriol underscoring his comment wasn’t lost on Wolffe; he knew Fox’s feelings well enough. Adjusting the cuff of his right sleeve, Fox cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

Wolffe gave a wordless grunt of confusion. 

“For getting me off Coruscant.” Fox motioned to their surroundings. “This is a good place to retire.”

He snorted. “Only took you four years.”

“Fuck off.” Fox halted, running a hand through his hair, observing Wolffe with hesitant solemnity. He sighed. “I’m…grateful to be here.”

Wolffe nodded slowly. “Me too.”

He took a moment to breathe in the fresh air, to watch the sun cresting the oceanic horizon, to grasp Fox’s shoulder and give him a firm shake. Fox threw him a grin. One of those knowing grins he used when they were boys and was about to challenge Wolffe to a particularly ambitious dare. Wolffe hadn’t seen Fox grin like that in a long time. He’d missed it.

“Give my love to the women,” Fox said, shoving his hands into his trousers’ pockets. He backed away a step. “And don’t drown. I’d grow bored without you.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes and turned away. 

A jog along the shore brought him to the docks. Scents of freshly baked bread, citrus fruits, and spiced soups wafted from the colorful buildings. Younglings sprinted the walkways. Sailors shouted orders as they prepared their ships. 

Regardless of the earliness of the day, Outlook Harbor bustled with life. Wolffe nodded to the woman at the bakery (she sold jars of his honey), shook his head at a small boy begging for a cup of shaved ice (he could relate to the father’s fond exasperation), and lifted a hand of acknowledgement to the elderly florist (she liked Kazi and Neyti). With a sharp turn, he strode down a familiar dock— 

“Daddy!”

He broke into a wide grin.

Legs dangling over the side of the sailboat, Neyti waved, her smile toothy. Beside her, Fluffy thumped his tail in greeting. The moment Wolffe boarded the boat the anooba knocked his head against his legs. He gave the canine a scratch behind his ears. 

Over the years, Fluffy had matured into a calm yet protective force. A good soldier. Wolffe would know; he’d served with plenty of them. 

“Hey, kid.” Wolffe kissed the top of Neyti’s head. Her hair was tied back in her classic double braids, the style he’d perfected with hours of practice on Kazi. “You ready?”

“Yup. Mum let me raise the sails.” Neyti nodded at the main mast. “We were waiting on you.”

While Neyti finished a glass of lemon juice, Wolffe inspected their work. Unnecessary thanks to Kazi’s expertise but he didn’t want to feel excluded from the prep. “Where is your mom—”

“It’s about time.” Kazi strolled from the cabin space beneath the deck, a bouquet in her hands, her hazel eyes beaming with mirth. “Happy life day.”

Wolffe grinned. He couldn’t help himself. The morning sun seemed as eager about Kazi as he felt. It cast her in a pinkish hue that made her skin glow. She kissed his cheek; his skin burned beneath the touch. 

With an easy smile, Wolffe accepted the bouquet. Gray and long-petaled, the flowers complimented the wolf on his sweater and the socks he could see peeking above Kazi’s boots. The socks he’d given her long ago—the gray a claim to his pack.

Under the pretense of smelling the flowers, Wolffe scrutinized Kazi. He liked her like this: a carefree, dimpled smile; hands casually tucked in the back pockets of her trousers; an adventurous twinkle in her eyes. Seeing her like this…fuck,it inspired different wants within him. 

He wanted to hold her close and smell her lavender soap. He wanted his head in her lap while her fingers played with his hair. He wanted to sit on their porch and listen to her talk about her translation work. He wanted to taste her, pleasure her until she was sated and pliant. He wanted her naked beneath this soft sunlight so he could admire every toned muscle and delicate plane of her body—

“Are you going to stare at Mum all day or can we go?” Neyti jumped to the deck, piercing him with an exasperated frown. Wolffe rubbed the back of his neck. “Your surprise won’t be waiting all day.”

“Demanding, much?” Kazi flicked their daughter’s forehead. Neyti responded with a sheepish grin. Chuckling, Kazi shared a private, knowing smile with him—that damned smile he’d beg on his knees for a glimpse of—and then started for the docking line. “Come on. Neyti’s right—we want to get there in time.”

Navigated by her skilled captain, the sailboat chugged through the harbor’s dark blue waves, passing through the breakwater where two dragons sat on guard: the twins, Bellu and Xap. Most harbors, Kazi once told him, were protected by the twins.

For the lateness of the summer, the ocean was well-tempered, sincere in its embrace of salty wind and bobbing waves. While Wolffe stood at the helm with Kazi wondering where they were going, Neyti and Fluffy leaned against the bow’s railing, searching for sea creatures.

Soon, their billowing sails brought them to their destination: the clear waters of the islet. 

Wolffe chuckled his appreciation. Both his wife and daughter knew the islet was one of his favorite places to visit: a lush forest with foxlike creatures that often attempted to nick his broken wristchrono; a clearing with a bubbling stream that could ease the worst tension from him; and the turtles—docile creatures he liked to swim with. 

Anchor dropped and wetsuits assorted, the islet’s shallows welcomed them. They swam among iridescent corals. Seaweed swayed at a lethargic pace, pearlescent seashells blinking like stars among a sandy sky. 

After a lunch of cubed melons, peppered cucumbers, vegetable cheese sandwiches, and a dessert of Wolffe’s favorite cherry pie, they returned to the waters. 

Awakened by the sun’s rays, the turtles emerged from their caves. The youngest was Neyti’s size; the largest neared Wolffe’s height. Dark brown geometric shapes decorated the turtles’ domed shells and long flippers. Their delicate heads poked curiously at the humans. 

Wolffe took photos of Kazi and Neyti swimming among the bale. He had a large collection of photos at home: some decorated the wall in his and Kazi’s bedroom; others adorned the main level’s mantelpiece and bookshelves. 

The photos were proof. Proof that he’d survived. Proof that he’d got to live out his dreams. 

The holorecorder swapped hands. Kazi snapped photos of him and Neyti; Neyti, with artistic flair, captured a few of him and Kazi. Both broke into giggles when Kazi snapped a photo of a turtle biting his foot. He grinned along with them, even if his toes ached. 

Eventually, the white, billowy clouds of afternoon gave way to golden-dappled clouds of evening. Pale white hummingbirds whizzed among the islet’s shores and the sailboat. Curled near the hull, Fluffy watched the tiny birds with intrigue.  

While Kazi sat alone on the shore, studying Daria’s old necklace and the photo within its locket, Wolffe joined Neyti on the sailboat’s railing. Beneath their hanging feet, the turtles lazed. Neyti peeled a citrus-star. An even split and she offered half to Wolffe. He accepted with a small smile.

“Good day?” Wolffe asked.

Neyti grinned. “The best.”

“Any new painting ideas?”

“Lots. Steiner and I are going to the lighthouse to paint tomorrow.” She plucked a citrus-star piece into her mouth and then scrutinized him. “You have a request.”

“Clever girl,” Wolffe said. Her smug smile earned a low chuckle from him. 

Reaching into a pocket of his tossed-aside trousers, Wolffe retrieved his wallet and a small photo tucked within. A photo of him, Kazi, and Neyti in front of the lighthouse last month. 

He remembered the moment clearly. The night’s constellations were winking into existence. Gentle waves were lapping at the shore, the temperature cool. He was staring at Kazi, holding Neyti’s hand, when he was struck with the reminder that this was his life. That he was married and had a daughter. That his vode were alive. That he was alive. It was hard to believe, sometimes.

“I’d like a painting of this,” Wolffe said thickly, showing Neyti the photo. “Think you can do that?”

Neyti narrowed her eyes as she appraised the image. “Is it for Mum’s life day?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll do it,” she promised. 

He nodded his thanks and carefully tucked the photo back into his wallet. 

After a minute of silence, interrupted only by the rocking waves and the whizzing hummingbirds, Neyti peered at him. “Did you like your life day?” 

Wolffe considered his daughter for a long moment. 

Over the years, she’d grown taller. Most of her adult teeth had come in, though one gap remained. (He hoped it took a long time to fill.) While her quiet nature continued to shape her curious yet shrewd outlook, her sharp wit and stubborn attitude persisted, especially during sparring lessons with Fox. 

She still enjoyed her princess stories. She still enjoyed learning new dragon lore. He and Kazi still read to her in bed. 

But Neyti was maturing. And he was keen to appreciate each moment of her childhood he had left.

Slipping a piece of citrus-star into his mouth, Wolffe knocked his elbow against Neyti’s. “I couldn’t have asked for a better one.”

As night swarmed and sharks began their hunt, they returned to Outlook Harbor. 

A blanket sprawled, bellies warm with vegetable curry, buttered flatbread, and chocolate-covered honeycomb, they settled among the sailboat’s deck. Wolffe accepted a pair of earplugs from Kazi. Neyti nestled herself between them. 

An effervescent display of fireworks lit the sky. Streams of silver and gold complimented the swooping figures of dragons. Regal purples and bottomless blues emphasized the dragons’ idiosyncratic prowess. 

The world silent, Wolffe split his time between watching the show and observing Kazi and Neyti’s reactions. 

Neyti watched the fireworks with a dimpled grin of awe. Kazi spent an equal amount of time watching the displays and studying him. At one of her subtle glances, he tapped the side of his head and winked. He felt an innate satisfaction at her small smile and relaxing posture. 

Later that night, locked in their bedroom, entangled on their bed, Wolffe held Kazi closer to his chest. They were both shaking, their breaths ragged. He could still feel her cunt fluttering around his oversensitive cock. He stifled a moan against her shoulder. 

Heat thrummed beneath his skin. His mind worked slowly, dazed by his orgasm. Instinctively, he brushed a hand down the smooth skin of Kazi’s spine. Her soft exhale tickled the hair curling around his ear, her thighs flexing around his waist.

“Good?” he asked. 

She gave a tired yet content nod and ran a finger along the silver bar piercing his nipple. He shivered at the sensation. His cock twitched inside of her. The corners of her lips quirked in amusement. He offered her a lazy grin. She repeated the touch once more, kissed his cheek, and then maneuvered herself from his lap to the mattress.

Wolffe quickly followed, kneeling between her legs, staring down at her. She was…fuck, she was more beautiful than those rare, sunny days on Kamino. 

The moonlight caressed her body in warm shades of amber: the flush to her cheeks, the blackness to her eyelashes, the curves of her breasts, the muscles of her arms. Her unbound hair crowned her head like faded autumnal leaves. Her eyes were dark, bliss-filled. 

He surveyed her, his mind blank of coherent thought. All he knew was that he wanted to stay like this for a long time.

“You’re staring,” Kazi murmured.

“Mm-hmm.” Settling himself atop her, he twirled a strand of hair around his finger and then placed a kiss on the underside of her jaw. “Say it.”

She skimmed a palm along his biceps; he trembled at the touch. “I love you,” she whispered.

A kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear followed. At her breathy sigh, a warm feeling fluttered behind his ribcage. He murmured, “Again.”

“I love you.”

He swallowed and then lowered his face to hers. His mouth brushed the white scar near the corner of her eye. “Again.”

A finger tipped his face back; her eyes danced with affection. “I love you.”

Wolffe smiled at the promise in her words. Their lips grazed. He curled his fingers into her loose hair; he breathed against her skin, “I love you.”

As he deepened the kiss, Kazi brought him closer, her hands trailing across his back. He shuddered beneath her wandering fingers. His cock throbbed. A quiet moan broke their kiss. He pursued her neck. Warm skin welcomed his mouth. 

He took his time, tracing the lines of her collarbone with his tongue, sucking long and slow on the underswell of her breasts, skimming his fingers across her ribcage, her throat, her face. 

One hand played with his hair; the other massaged his shoulders, the back of his neck. Deep kneading eased the stiffness from his body. A teasing caress of his earlobe made him groan. 

Their kisses slowed to lingering; their touches turned drowsy. 

Wolffe pressed his forehead against Kazi’s, squeezed her hip, and then lowered himself onto his back. Extending an arm behind her head, he glanced at the nightstand. Atop his trusted notebook sat his present: a silver, sleek wristchrono.

He’d been eyeing it for months. Hell, he should’ve known that Kazi would notice his subtle glances at the shop window each time they visited the harbor. 

Wolffe trailed a finger across the tiny, cursive inscription on the ‘chrono’s band: So you can always find your way home. He blinked away the burning sensation behind his eyes.

“Thirty, Wolffe,” Kazi murmured, tracing the initials inked into his fourth finger: K.E. “How does it feel?”

“It doesn’t feel real,” Wolffe admitted. He skimmed his thumb along her shoulder. “I…never thought I could have this. And now…” 

Years training with his vode, years believing he’d die on the battlefield, years fighting alongside his men, yet he outlived them all… 

He’d never understand why he’d survived. He’d never understand why he’d been allowed to experience this—finding Kazi, raising Neyti, starting his own farm. But he’d learned long ago that he couldn’t control fate. And those men who’d died—they’d want him to live the life they didn’t get to. He owed them. And he’d make the most of what he was given. 

“I’m glad this is real,” he said quietly. “Real fucking glad.”

A thoughtful hum sounded from Kazi, and she peered at him: hesitant yet curious. “Do you feel alive?”

Wolffe thought back to years ago, to stars reflected among a stilled lake’s surface, to lightning bugs flickering among an overgrown jungle, to hazel eyes rounded with vulnerability and soft lips he wanted to touch, to a quiet conversation he’d never forgotten.

“Yeah. I do.” He let out a chuckle, surprised by the swiftness of his answer. Surprised by the truth behind it. He searched Kazi’s gaze. “Do you?”

A slow smile lit her face, wide and dimpled and so full of life. “I do.”

For a long time, Wolffe basked in her smile and the heat of her body curled against his, and when she kissed the side of his throat, he turned his gaze to the skylights. The Dancing Dragons twinkled, their central star bright in the night sky. Kazi nuzzled her nose against his jaw; he mapped the tattoo on her spine.

“Tell me the story, Kazi,” he murmured. “Start from the beginning.”

He felt her smile against his neck. As she started to speak, he closed his eyes, sinking into the mattress, relaxing into the lavender scent of her hair and the sleepy lilt of her voice: 

“Every night a female dragon soared amongst the stars.”

Masterlist | Chapter 31

A/N: For a deeper look into this story and its characters, check out the Behind the Scenes.

Artwork of Kazi, Wolffe, and Neyti by the phenomenal @pinkiemme!

[bluebeatle-gone]

post-movie j.aime deciding to go to law school there in el paso... spending most of the summer torn abt what he wants to do because as grateful as he is of the k.ords for replacing tío r.udy's truck and fixing up their house, he knows he can't just expect them to cover Everything all the time. he wouldn't be able to accept it even if they offered, that's just not the kind of guy that he is. (probably makes a joke abt how he doesn't Actually wanna be like m.aria la del b.arrio) wanting to keep going towards being a lawyer so he can eventually make enough money to support his family while also staying close to them in the absence of his dad and being able to finally give el paso and ciudad juarez their own hero like rudy had said up on the roof in that one scene.

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price being bitten by Kermit -

THE MUPPET SHOW (1977)

[lifemod17]

You ever see a man so pretty you wanna cry

And his voice sounds so good too. I AM NOT OKAY SEND HELP.

Forest Hills night 3 || 07 / 06 / 2024

[just-null]

I WANT TO WISH U A HAPPY NY🎉🎄!! (now in my country they celebrate🥲)I'M GLAD TO MEET UR BLOG. THIS IS THE CUTEST N MOST WONDERFUL BLOG. I very rarely see creativity with our sweet Nori!! But when I saw your blog, I was so happy!! I hope that in the future the blog will develop and thnq, dear froggy, for pleasing our eyes!!😭😭😭💗💗YOU'RE THE SUN & THE CHARM!!(◡‿◡✿)

*sorry for my strange english, I have problems w/ it 😞*

HAPPY END OF YEAR TO ALL OF YOU

Your english is lovely, dw. tysm for finding my cult in this corner and liking what you found! Also for reminding me today is the last day of the year (my time)

aint no fucking way am i gonna allow this cult having more depictions of me than Noritoshi fucking Kamo. So i present to you, my beloved cult members, a bunch of doodles i have of Noritoshi.

there is no particular order

[jpoog]

skiddles over here

hello

thank you for following me!!!

could you draw my ugly son (mephone)……….. or silver candle.

okay thank you!! (Skiddles away)

DID SOMEONE SAY MEPHONE???

[ingravinoveritas]

Audio of Michael with Kathy Burke on the Where There's A Will There's a Wake podcast being asked who would play Aziraphale if he dies and saying that he'd want David to play both parts. Transcript below (bold emphasis mine):

KB: "What about your colleagues' response? I mean, if you're in the middle of--I mean listen, in Nye, when you're doing theatre work, you do have understudies. But let's say you're were doing a new series of Good Omens with the great David Tennant--" Michael: "Well, I don't know about the great, but okay. With David Tennant, yeah." KB: "Who would replace you? I mean, who would put up with him, do you think?" Michael: "I mean, I'm loath to say it...but really, he should play both parts. Because originally we were--originally I was--Neil Gaiman, who wrote the original book with Terry Pratchett that the series was based on--when I first started talking to Neil about it, when he told me that he was going to do it, originally we talked about me playing the other part, the part David played. And one of the sort of things about us doing it is we'd never really acted opposite each other before because we'd usually be up for the same parts for many, many years. I think it was sort of between me and him for Casanova when he did Casanova. I mean, he's far too egotistical to let me know the parts I got over him--" KB: "--Of course." Michael: "There we are. That shows what the relationship is like. I'm quite happy to say the part that he got over me. But so, the fact that we were together in this was quite unusual, because normally we would be playing the same part. So that's quite good in a way, cause they're both, they're sort of light and shade of the same person in a way. So once I did pop my clogs, maybe he would have to then--you know the way they do it, do you remember that film Dead Ringers where Jeremy Irons played twins? So I'd quite like to see David playing both parts. And it would be his homage to me."

[lycanlovebites]

do you like What Manner of Man? Does Father Ardelian and his (entirely platonic of course!) relationship with the mysterious and captivating Lord Vane bring out your neurodivergent tendencies like me? Do you lay awake at night reading the latest updates from our dear Victor Ardelian and think “wow this is wonderful! I wish I had some music to go with this! Maybe something to vividly imagine a detail AMV to involving him and maybe even Lord Vane to accompany him to?” Well then look no further because thats what I’ve felt and that’s why I am here with a (quite well curated, if I say so myself) playlist based on the lovely novel What Manner of Man! to be fair it is mostly about Victor (my favorite priest with monsterfucker tendencies and Catholic guilt 🩷) but also stuff inspired by him and Lord Vane.

🩷🦇Spotify playlist is here🦇🩷