#and his whole ‘nothing I do will ever be enough’ story is compelling and I feel bad

[restinslices]

Y’all ever have a character that you would absolutely adore if certain parts of them weren’t canon? Me too bitch. If only Aegon was just a drunk silly bitch with mommy issues 🧍🏾‍♀️

[eightdoctor]

my eda recs :) for anyone interested in getting into this series

i am prefacing this post with the note that i am an avid completionist and generally dislike telling people to skip certain books unless it's a john peel novel or placebo effect. however i understand telling people to read 74 novels is not at all accessible and i need you all to read. these books. please. please

this post is going to be long as shit i know it so i'm putting it ↓ here. books that can be skipped because theyre a bit shit will be colored red, ones that you Can Skip but are good/have some important character or plot bits in will be orange, and ones that are sooo good and necessary and the best books ever will be green. unfortunately i think a lot of the ones colored orange should be colored green but i know restraint. i can stay my hand. kind of

also i should say that i primarily read these for the characters - the plots themselves come second. so lots of my opinions come from the standpoint of which books have good characterizations. basically some of the ones that i color green would probably be skippable if any normal person were reading them but i'm insane!! and this is my list so fuck you!!!

The Eight Doctors by Terrance Dicks: ah my color trichotomy has bitten me in the ass on the first book. because truth be told i still haven't finished this one (nor have i really felt the need to yet), yet it introduces the first companion in the series, sam jones, and contains some other entertaining parts like the doctor getting caught with cocaine. as far as introductory books go it's meh

Vampire Science by Kate Orman and Jonathan Blum: this book. i truly can't sing my praises any louder than i already have. orman & blum took the character of the eighth doctor as portrayed by paul mcgann in a few measly minutes of screen time into a fully fleshed out, compelling and complex character. if you're a fan of the eighth doctor but aren't interested in reading all of the EDAs you have to read this one at the Very Least. it begins, as all good stories do, in a gay bar. it features vampire squirrels, the doctor with kittens, and the doctor infodumping on the beauty of science in a speech? conversation? that still touches me to this day, four years after i first read it.

The Bodysnatchers by Mark Morris: this book is Gross, and i mean that positively. mark morris held nothing back when describing how disgusting and putrid london was in the 1800s (he's primarily a horror writer, and that comes through rather clearly in this book). i genuinely enjoyed this novel a lot, but i know it's not for everyone because again, it's quite gory and disgusting

Genocide by Paul Leonard: don't you just want to see the doctor in a sun hat? being tortured for weeks on end? don't you want to examine his morality in termsof what species he thinks needs to be saved or doomed? jo grant is there

War of the Daleks by John Peel: fuck john peel all my homies hate john peel. for some reason all his books in this range contain daleks and it’s like…why. get some creativity. everyone else did. bitch

Alien Bodies by Lawrence Miles: this novel is So Good. it introduces faction paradox, the war in heaven plotline, humanoid tardises, and a couple of the most interesting & fun side characters in the whole range (homunculette and marieeee <3 cousin justineeee… aaaaaaahh). I shan’t spoil the entire conceit of the story but just know it’s. insane and fucked up and so so funny

Kursaal by Peter Anghelides: this is just a solid doctor who story, really. i wouldn’t call it imperative to the overarching plot of the novels (as tenuous as it is early on), but it’s an enjoyable enough read. it’s about an ancient race of alien werewolves underneath a theme park. what more can i say

Option Lock by Justin Richards: i recall enjoying the doctor and sam’s characterization in this one, and the story is like doctor strangelove meets, well, doctor who. it’s skippable, but i had fun reading it, and that’s really all you can ask for

Longest Day by Michael Collier: this is the start of the arc where sam gets separated from the doctor. actually the most tense and stressed i’ve been reading the edas was reading this and the next three books. it’s so dire, but it’s so so good, with incredible character moments from sam and the doctor. plus you have anstaar, nashaad with his metal legs, and some really fucked up body horror involving Time messing with people’s existences and driving ppl mad and stuff. people tend to either love this one or hate it from what i’ve seen, and i’m solidly in the former category. would definitely recommend 

Legacy of the Daleks by John Peel: ughhhhhhhh… ughhhhjhhhhhh i guess you have to read this one. i guess you have to. it’s definitely an improvement on his last book but still. daleks again john? really? whateverrrrr.. some important stuff happens to susan is in this one though. and the master as well. so if you care about either of those characters you should read this i suppose

Dreamstone Moon by Paul Leonard: a general rule of the edas is paul leonard always writes excellent books (in my opinion, anyway), and this is not the exception. sam and the doctor are still separated, but they’re in the same place and keep missing each other and its like UGGHHHH!!! UGHHH!!! but you have interesting commentary on capitalism’s exploitation and effective revolutionary action and all that stuff. also aloisse is an incredible character and i love her

Seeing I by Kate Orman and Jonathan Blum: HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOOD LIRD!!!!!!!!!!! kate and jon do it again, those crazy bastards. you know how every author loves torturing the shit out of eight? these guys take that and run with it in the opposite direction, asking the question what if the worst thing the doctor could go through isn’t agonizing torture, but rather just a lack of enrichment in his enclosure? what if he had to stay locked up in one building for three years and couldn’t escape for the life of him? meanwhile sam, now a refugee with no social support (as she technically shouldn’t exist in this time and location), has to deal with homelessness, and has to decide whether it’s better to have a stable, yet soulless corporate job - or do something that’s meaningful and benefits society. she’s at her best in this book for sure

Placebo Effect by Gary Russell: throws up. don’t read this because it is actually rhe worst book in the whole range and i’m not joking. sorry gary you’re a nice guy but i thought the arguments against evolution that went on for like 3 pages were extremely egregious and also plain wrong. you may look at this book and think “oh cool! Stacy and ssard from the comics are in this one!” well they’re there for like a paragraph and don’t do shit. so

Vanderdeken's Children by Christopher Bulis: really fun novel that’s pretty much the epitome of the classic doctor who question “wouldn’t that be really fucked up and crazy?” it also established the fact that the doctor told sam his real name which is really fun and awesome

The Scarlet Empress by Paul Magrs: much like paul leonard, paul magrs Never disappoints. this book is just so fucking fun. in essence, it’s a road trip story. they drive across a planet listening to abba and visiting lots of kooky places and picking up lots of wacky characters. it also deconstructs gender and self-identity and what it means to be an individual. a cyborg and a giant spider get lesbian married. aewsome 👍

The Janus Conjunction by Trevor Baxendale: i really debated on making this one skippable, i did. because while it doesn’t continue any of the established plots or themes or whatever, it does show the doctor breaking the laws of time to save his companion’s life, and that’s really cool we love that. there’s a lot of fun body horror too if you go for that sort of thing. and more giant spiders but these ones are different 

Beltempest by Jim Mortimore: ok honestly? i didn’t vibe with this one. i know some people really liked it but i felt as if the characterization was Off. some wacky wild stuff happens to sam though

The Face-Eater by Simon Messingham: <-doesn’t remember much of this one cuz i was high while reading it. i think it was a solid story though? 

The Taint by Michael Collier: yayyyyyyyy fitz is hereeeee my babyboy… lots of people don’t vibe with this one but i do. because i love fitz and everything he’s in and him and the doctor are such bastards to each other in the beginning it’s great. their repartee is genuinely so entertaining and really elevates the book for me, even if the plot itself is a bit mediocre. either way even if you don’t like it you have to read it because it introduces fitz. so there

Demontage by Justin Richards: telling you to skip this one would be a disservice. because technically it Is skippable, but it has some absolutely hilarious moments that really drive home the fact that fitz is Cringe. they’re on a space casino called vega in the far future and fitz dresses in a (from everyone else's perspective) old-fashioned tuxedo. he smokes indoors and everyone gives him nasty looks because he’s in the future and no one smokes inside. he asks for his cocktails shaken not stirred and the bartender fucking hates him. and he also accidentally gets involved in an assassination plot. but i suppose if you must skip it then go ahead… 

Revolution Man by Paul Leonard: mr leonard does it again. this is an excellent novel for both companions that begins with sam and the doctor engaging in leftist discourse with an anarchist and ends with the world almost ending. it happens.

Dominion by Nick Walters: you have to read this one just for the doctor’s first gay kiss. sorry i don’t make the rules. also it  just features a neat concept imo and has a great moment where the doctor punches a pillow in frustration and then sadly apologizes to it

Unnatural History by Kate Orman and Jonathan Blum: this book is one that i think every doctor who fan who’s ever gotten mad about canon not making sense should be forced at gunpoint to read. it’s a novel that’s essentially one big metacommentary on doctor who canon & why it Doesn’t Matter At All, Actually; the doctor was birthed and he was loomed and both are equally true and untrue. also features the iconic paragraph calling the doctor a (verbatim) “backrub slut”, as well as wrapping up the ongoing arc with sam jones hinted at in alien bodies and a few other books in a way that’ll have you side eyeing moffat very suspiciously

Autumn Mist by David A. McIntee: this one’s pretty good and has a couple great moments (fitz calling himself james bond, for one), but is, i think, ultimately skippable unless youre a world war 2 buff

Interference Books 1 & 2 by Lawrence Miles: nothing i can say will adequately put into words what these two novels made me feel, you hear me? absolutely nothing. good fucking god. jesus christ. holy fuck.. if i sat here listsing all the important and iconic moments in these books we’d be here all shitting day and this post is already obscenely long. read these 2 books. then read them again. 

The Blue Angel by Paul Magrs: ok i know i just said this but HOOOOOO..WHOA NELLY! the blue angel is easily in my top 5 edas. it literally heavily features a canon domestic au wherein the doctor is a “middle-aged gay man”. fitz says he wants to get laid by the doctor. the doctor’s mother is a mermaid. there’s off-brand spirk. someone turns into a giant squid. literally this book is so good they wrote a screenplay adaptation of it and a spinoff short story that you should also read

The Taking of Planet 5 by Simon Bucher-Jones and Mark Clapham: you’re going to be hearing this a lot from me but we Are entering the part of the series where it really takes off and gets sooo fucking good. anyway this novel is sooo fucking good and quite important to the plot and establishes stuff about the war in heaven and gallifrey so. read it. also there's ELDRITCH BEASTS!

Frontier Worlds by Peter Anghelides: i can’t tell you to skip this one because it’s so good. fitz goes by the alias frank sinatra & also talks like him for a solid portion of the book. we get excellent compassion moments. great doctor moments (including that Hot and Sexy dream he has about the tardis!) and all in all it’s a wonderful story

Parallel 59 by Stephen Cole and Natalie Dallaire: lots of stuff happens in this one, especially to fitz. by that i mean it gets referenced quite a bit later so i would recommend if you want to catch all the references. also a woman worked on this one so you already know eight is going to be written phenomenally and very sensually. 

The Shadows of Avalon by Paul Cornell: rather important development happens to compassion in this book (understatement). but it’s also a really good story in general with lots of memorable bits - paul cornell wrote one EDA and did a great job and then vanished from the range. it also has the BRIGADIER and his ROMANCE with MAB the BIG BOSOMED CELTIC QUEEN so like.. read it?? 

The Fall of Yquatine by Nick Walters: a pretty important thing happens to compassion in this one too (another understatement). also withnail & i references galore, fitz has a bad time (has he had a Good time for the past few books? questionable!), and the doctor spends time with a gay baker/contraband parts dealer

Coldheart by Trevor Baxendale: you could skip this one but why would you even want to? it’s literally one of compassion’s best stories and has plenty of excellent doctor and companion moments. it’s just fun and engaging and an outstanding doctor who story. and, as always, fitz is effortlessly cringe as ever <3

The Space Age by Steve Lyons: this one’s just boring and kinda stupid. nothing big or important happens and you can tell steve lyons didn’t care for writing compassion at all. skip it

The Banquo Legacy by Andy Lane and Justin Richards: Big Plot Developments in this one - mostly in the beginning and end. also the only (?) mention of irving braxiatel in the whole run! it’s written from the POV of two Normal people not on the tardis so it’s interesting to see how they perceive the doctor and fitz, and how this contradicts the way they define themselves in other books where we’re privy to their internal monologue 

The Ancestor Cell by Peter Anghelides and Stephen Cole: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHH AAAAGHHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAUAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU HFHOA8U8OIA AOUIY4P98 YT39 7UGHYIB3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this one drives me insane and there are parts of it i reread nearly every day. because i’m CRAZY. it’s a controversial novel in the doctor who fandom because of how it handles gallifrey and faction paradox lore but WHO FUCKING CARES? FATHER KREINER IS BACK BABY

The Burning by Justin Richards: this is the start of the Earth Arc, so it’s the first portrayal of the doctor stuck on earth without any of his memories. it’s a bit slow at the beginning, and as a normal doctor who story i would consider it subpar, but the characterization of the doctor really carries it i think. you see how losing his memory impacted his restraint with things such as hypnosis and Other Stuff I Shan’t Spoil

Casualties of War by Steve Emmerson: this has the first appearance of the Note, so it’s especially important for that reason. but it’s also just a neat story that has way more elements of a fantasy than a sci fi and again, seeing how the doctor acts now, stuck on earth without his memories, and juxtaposing that with how he acted before, super fun and neat

The Turing Test by Paul Leonard: if i could graft this book onto my DNA i would. i already KNEW the circumstances surrounding alan turing’s death and yet i still cried about it while reading this!! paul leonard’s portrayal of turing as both a gay and autistic man (though the latter is never explicitly stated) is INCREDIBLE and i really can’t recommend it enough just based on that. but the story itself is amazing and really delves into the doctor’s Differences and his desperation to leave earth after being stuck there for decades. 

Endgame by Terrance Dicks: people really like this one and i guess i had fun with it but i just can’t really get into terrence dicks’ writing style. that being said it features the doctor listless and just so sad and depressed so you kind of have to read it. if that’s not reason enough there’s a fat gay alcoholic spy who absolutely rocks

Father Time by Lance Parkin: i hate that this is green. i hate it. i hate this fucking book. i hate lance parkin also. but this is where miranda (the doctor’s adopted daughter) is introduced so alas, you must read it and imagine a version of this book thats infinitely better in your head. sorry! 

Escape Velocity by Colin Brake: this one’s mid but it’s the end of the earth arc and fitz and the doctor reunite and ANJI KAPOOR IS HERE!!!!!!!! FINALLY!!!!!!! so if you read this and get a lil bored just know it’s about to get so fucking good you guys

EarthWorld by Jacqueline Rayner: genuinely can’t say enough good things about this one. it’s funny. it’s angsty. it’s all in all just a really fun book. and it’s the shortest one i think so like you have no excuse to not read it

Fear Itself by Nick Wallace: this is technically a PDA because it was written after nine was announced, thereby making 8 technically a “past doctor”, but who give a shit. read this one are yoyu kidding me. read it read it read it read it READ IT. there’s a twist in it that rendered me absolutely catatonic for about a week 

Vanishing Point by Stephen Cole: don’t skip this one even though it’s orange. are you listening to me? don’t fucking skip it ok!!! steve cole is the #1 fitz/eight shipper and this really shines through here. also maybe i’m just easily entertained by reasonably accurate science in my doctor who books but i liked all the genetics references

Eater of Wasps by Trevor Baxendale: trevor you sly dog you did it again. you mad bastard. not only is the storyline in this one soo gripping and also Quite horrifying but the characterization?? hoooooo boy. this is the book where “you really love him, don’t you?” “well, i like to think we’re just good friends.” comes from and so even if it was dogshit you’d have to read it just for that like cmon

The Year of Intelligent Tigers by Kate Orman: holy. fucking. shit. good grief. the doctor has a boyfriend and they go on picnics and drink chocolate martinis together. the doctor becomes a catboy for a few months. this story takes place on a colony world whose culture is predominantly centered around music, so you have the doctor playing his violin (hot). you have scientifically accurate zoology/xenobiology. you have a Mysterious lost civilization. most importantly you have fitz’s song he wrote for the doctor

The Slow Empire by Dave Stone: this one’s just FUNNY okay. dave stone has such a characteristic way of writing prose it’s just kind of a joy to read. if you get the hard copy all of the bits from a side character’s pov is written in comic sans. while some of the characterization is a bit meh and anji didn’t Really live up to her full potential in a couple scenes i’d still recommend it. there’s footnotes

Dark Progeny by Steve Emmerson: this is another one i colored orange even though i whole-heartedly recommend it.. it’s a commentary on corporate apathy and greed and how it destroys entire planets and just a really engaging story besides. not to mention we get a “fitz fitz fitz fitz fitz!” bit from 8 <3

The City of the Dead by Lloyd Rose: i can’t even talk about this oine lest i lose my mind… not joking when i say lloyd rose writes some of the best and juiciest angst in the whole series like some of the scenes in there made me feel like i was being helplessly entrapped in flowing grain for a month

Grimm Reality by Simon Bucher-Jones and Kelly Hale: i really do sound like a broken record at this point but this is another one of those books i could never say enough positive things about. there are two novels in this series that genre-hop and this is one of them. the tardis lands on a world where everything runs on logic straight out of the brother’s grimm (hence the title). there’s magic cloaks and evil stepsisters and giants, and the doctor, fitz, and anji all have their own separate adventures so it’s super interesting to see how each character deals with being in a fairytale. not only that but there are parts of the book written in the style of those old fairytales and i really do get a good kick out of  gimmicky stuff like that 

The Adventuress of Henrietta Street by Lawrence Miles: buckle the fuck up everyone and get out your highlighters and sticky notes because this one is so fucking dense you’ll have no choice but to annotate and take notes, sorry! it’s written in the style of a historical nonfiction which occasionally falls flat (where’s the fucking works cited, lawrence???), but the story is fucking crazy. you got arcane rituals, prostitutes doing sex magic that summon great apes, sabbath is here, the doctor is weak and sickly (always awesome), sabbath is here, the doctor gets married so he can save the earth, sabbath is here,

Mad Dogs and Englishmen by Paul Leonard: this is the petplay book featuring multicolored poodles that have human hands. need i say more? 

Hope by Mark Clapham: not the best book but it’s got some pretty crucial anji moments in, and we all love love love anji so much so we’ll read mediocre novels just for her!! (but we also see the doctor struggle with only having one heart so that’s fun too)

Anachrophobia by Jonathan Morris: literally my top 3 book in the series EASY. it takes place on a planet ravaged by a time war (as in a war that fights with weapons that fuck with time. not like That time war), yet despite that particular futuristic conceit the entire atmosphere of the book feels like something out of the 40s or 50s  - almost like the aesthetics of fallout, but instead of nuclear radiation it’s Time. most of the story takes place in this sealed off bunker that’s doing experiments to try and develop time travel, and while they’re successful in going back in time the guinea pigs who volunteered for the trial develop an illness that fucks up their personal timelines so bad they literally turn into clock zombies. and it’s contagious. but no one can leave because theres fucked up time outside uh oh!!! if you liked the themes of war profiteering from boom in the new season you’ll LOVE this book

Trading Futures by Lance Parkin: fuck you lance parkin i can’t stand your ass! you can’t fucking write for shit!!! i’d recommend this book if you want to see anji referred to as ‘the asian woman’ more than her actual name :) and a southeast asian character with a name that might as well have been taken right out of a book written by  jk rowling. really the only good part of this book is when anji almost calls the doctor an otter-fucker

The Book of the Still by Paul Ebbs: this book is a WILD fucking ride. this book is fucking insane in the most positive of ways. paul ebbs writes an absolutely top tier eight that manages to encapsulate all the development he went through in the series as well as evoking the characterization from the 1996 movie

The Crooked World by Steve Lyons: this is the second book that does a genre-swap, but instead of fairytales this time the tardis lands on a planet dominated by saturday morning cartoon physics and logic. but the doctor & co being there begins to introduce Real Life concepts such as death and sex and swearing, so all these wacky cartoon characters who’ve spent their whole lives doing wacky cartoon things like blowing each other up with sticks of dynamite or hitting each other with big hammers suddenly find that these actions actually have very very serious consequences, which really kicks off when this story’s equivalent of tom rips off this story’s equivalent of jerry’s head, killing him instantly. idk i just watched a lot of saturday morning cartoons as a kid so seeing the parodies of wacky races and scooby doo was very enjoyable. to me

History 101 by Mags L Halliday: to put it simply this book is about leftist infighting. to put it more complexly this book is about the spanish civil war and how differing opinions and principles can alter one’s perception of history - and what happens when history actually starts being changed in accordance to these differing principles. there’s also the subplot featuring fitz’s homoerotic, yet very traumatizing, travels with a guy named sasha as they journey to guernica so they can watch it be bombed

Camera Obscura by Lloyd Rose: this is where sabbath and the doctor’s relationship really reaches it’s peak. this is The Esteemed Toxic Old Man Yaoi Novel. but also remember when i said lloyd rose writes the best angst? this holds especially true here. i won’t spoil it for you but Something Crazy Happens to the Doctor! haha. haha

Time Zero by Justine Richards: this is just quantum physics: the novel. while fitz goes on his doomed siberia expedition with the geologist boytoy george in the 19th century, the doctor investigates some strange readings in siberia like a hundred years later, and some crazy confusing hijinks ensue! the events in this book kick off the arc that’ll continue for the next few books until sometime never where the multiverse is collapsing and the doctor has to fix it. even though he doesn’t know how. ALSO TRIX INTRODUCTIONNNNNN!!!!!!!!

The Infinity Race by Simon Messingham: this one’s whatever. the sabbath characterization is wack but there are a few good moments. you think it’s going to be mostly about a cool boat race but sadly that comes secondary -_-

The Domino Effect by David Bishop: this book is ASS, both plot-wise and characterization-wise. it also just seems like the author was trying to be needlessly edgy when he developed the setting, and there are just some baffling moments where characters say and do things i frankly think they would never say 

Reckless Engineering by Nick Walters: the events in this one center around a tragedy that is fucking batshit insane. the universe this takes place in features a post-apocalyptic earth. i shan’t say what this apocalypse was because finding out what happened is all apart of the fun guys. i can’t spoil everything for you

The Last Resort by Paul Leonard: what if a corporation discovered TIME TRAVEL and set up RESORTS all across human history? what if there was a mcdonalds in ancient egypt and advertisements for microsoft in the original version of the bible? also what if something just soooo fucked up happens so many times <3

Timeless by Stephen Cole: anji’s last book. sobs.

Emotional Chemistry by Simon A. Forward: idk what it was but i just didn’t really vibe with this one. it’s not awful by any means and there’s a bit of plot carried in from the last novel that continues into the next but the actions that surround it don’t really matter i think. honestly i’d just read a summary of this one and continue on 

Sometime Never... by Justin Richards: the culmination of the multiverse stuff. i liked it - miranda makes a reappearance, and the fact she’s written by someone other than lance parkin is already a plus. my only qualm is i don’t really like how it handled sabbath but that’s sort of how i felt about all the books post camera obscura… sigh

Halflife by Mark Michalowski: ANOTHER EASY TOP 3. i’m simply obsessed with all of the concepts and tropes in this book, not to mention it’s where fitz’s infamous Ass Dream can be found. there’s commentary on racism, colonialism, and religion, and it also features cannibalism as a metaphor for love :D

The Tomorrow Windows by Jonathan Morris: another case of me coloring a book orange even though i think you should read it anyway. it’s positively saturated with so many interesting alien planets and creatures and societies you’d be missing out if you didn’t read this one tbh. it’s also the first novel ever to feature the ninth doctor!

The Sleep of Reason by Martin Day: this one ok. it’s another book written from the pov of an outsider and her insights into the doctor, fitz, and trix are interesting (and their characterization when they show up is outstanding!) but it feels like they’re rarely in it & this close to the end of the series i just want to see more of my guys you know...

The Deadstone Memorial by Trevor Baxendale: i loved the atmosphere in this one. it’s more of a ghost story with sci fi elements, and the stakes involved aren’t Bigger Than Ever like they tend to be nowadays, but instead surround the wellbeing of a family of a single mom and her two kids which i appreciate - the doctor isn’t saving the Whole Universe and World; just a family from a small town; it’s effective in getting the point across that the doctor thinks everyone’s important and worth saving 

To the Slaughter by Stephen Cole: this one’s fun and goofy and steve cole wrote it solely so he could fix an error from a fourth doctor serial in which the doctor got the number of jupiter’s moons wrong. that being said the reason it’s not colored orange is because the last book of the series is written by lance parkin and i want to help you procrastinate reading his godawful prose for as long as possible. your welcome

The Gallifrey Chronicles by Lance Parkin: fuck you lance parkin

[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 9

Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having recently moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they are until it's too late.

This Chapter: Klaus pleads his case as you wrestle with guilt, while Elijah attempts to ease your mind the old fashioned way.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, Love Triangle, Infidelity, Klaus Pinning You Against the Wall, Shoving, Neck Kissing, Licking, Elijah Undressing You, Kissing, Massage, Nipple Play, Vaginal Fingering, Lying, Manipulation, Compulsion, Blood, Sweat, Tears, ANGST

Word Count: 3.2k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

His brother? Elijah? Did you really just hear him correctly? No. No, that can’t possibly be true. They look nothing alike! And can vampires even BE brothers, especially if Klaus is over a thousand years old, like he said? Maybe it’s just some weird figure of speech and not an actual term. Or maybe it’s just part of the vampire lore that only the elder insiders know about? You can’t…no… this can’t be happening! Either way, you can’t deny that you’re in deep trouble here. It’s only a matter of time before you get found out, and you can’t imagine that either of them will take it very well.

Time to put that guard up.

“Well, half brother, if you want to get into the specifics, but that’s a story for another time, love.” Klaus’ blonde lashes flutter across your cheek as he kisses the skin of your chin and jawline while you tremble with guilt. He doesn’t seem to be worried about the idea of Elijah right now, so you welcome his continued seduction with a sigh of relief as it helps throw him off the scent. You force a smile as he slowly releases the vice-like grip he has on your wrists only to ghost his hands down your forearms, forcing you to shiver.

“Oh, really?” you whisper as your bloodstream plays host to an increased supply of oxytocin, chemically connecting your body to his no matter how badly your brain wants them to separate. “So do you have, like a whole family of vampire siblings living under one roof?” You jest, only to be met by his thumbs playfully digging into your axilla before squeezing their way down your sides.

“Maybe I do, but it looks like we both have surprise siblings that neither of us knew about until today. It really begs the question though, are there any other secrets that you’re hiding from me, hmm? A husband, a wife, a child?” His mouth moves down to your neck as you shake your head in response, licking the path of your pulse as it continues to throb against his tongue.

“Klaus,” you groan, trying to focus solely on the mental image of your brother instead of Elijah rocking his hips into you, those gorgeously lust-blown eyes of his nearly blacking out completely. That’s something you could never forget, but you shove it into the back of your mind for the time being, anyways. “Klaus, we can’t do this, I’m at work!”

“Oh don’t worry, love. I’ve compelled everyone on this floor to forget that I came here tonight, to forget that you ever left your post.” He pulls back just enough to look you in the eye with a reassuring wink.

“Compelled?” You push your palm against his chest to put some distance between you, secretly hating yourself for cutting off that rush of hormones that set your skin on fire. “What do you mean, compelled?” You need more of an explanation than just the context clues he’s barely giving you.

“Well, if you must know, it’s one of the many gifts that comes with immortality; a sure fire way to get others to do what we want, to cover our tracks.” His hands rest gently against your hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin beneath your scrubs as he explains himself.

“Like mind control?” You had dated some seriously manipulative men in your day, but this really takes the cake. If he can really do that, can they all do it? Can Elijah?

“Think of it more as… the power of persuasion. I could compel your boss to give you a raise right now, Marjorie to give back your favorite pen that she stole, or your patients to stay in bed. But instead I chose to compel every last one of my men to protect you, to keep you safe from any harm that may come your way. You won’t have to worry about any more attacks in the quarter, love, you or your brother.”

Damn. Well, that’s a relief, you guess.

“Wait, have you ever compelled me before?” Your logic finally kicks back in, trying it’s best not to get led astray by his silver tongue and good looks, which isn’t as easy as it sounds.

He pauses and takes a breath, smirking while he chooses his next words very carefully. “The thing I love most about you is that I’ve never felt the need to compel you before.” He weaves his web of words with such eloquent precision, it’s almost impossible to tell if there’s any bit of truth in them. “I’ve compelled people in the past to lie, cheat and steal for me, even to kill for me if the occasion calls for it, but in the end it’s just not as fun as earning their loyalty the old fashioned way.

“Compelling you to act any differently, to be anybody else would just be too boring, and you’re anything but boring, love. You find death just as beautiful and vibrant as I do. It’s apparent in your art and your choice to work here as your patients tiptoe that flimsy tightrope between life and death. You get off on the power you hold over it, the power you have to stop it, to prolong it. In the end, you and I aren’t that different after all.” He strokes your hair affectionately, looking longingly into your eyes as he waits for you to respond.

“You think so?” You reply dumbly as if you’re blown away by his words, trying to really sell the idea of being on board with his ethics of compelling people against their will.

“I left you a note at the nurse’s station next to a cup of chicory coffee from your favorite cafe. Meet me at that address tomorrow night, then we can really begin to flesh out our epic masterpiece… but only if you want to.”

————————

Klaus’ words haunt you well into your much needed shower after work as you try to wash his scent out of your hair and off of your skin. You scrub the wash cloth over your body more times than you care to admit, letting the soap lather up to a ridiculous level before rinsing off in the steaming stream of water. Once you finally reach the level of cleanliness that you desire, you step out of the shower and dry your hair, switching the towel around before wrapping it around your body.

You rotate your scrubs over from the washer to the dryer, making sure to eradicate any of Klaus’ scent from them as well, hoping that Elijah won’t catch on to your surprise visitor at work. You’re sure that he would take the news better than Klaus would, but there’s no telling how merciful a ruthless vampire like him could react when he’s betrayed, no matter how refined he seems so far.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Elijah’s voice is just above a whisper as he enters your apartment through the balcony, your purple curtains surrounding him in the breeze of dawn, staging him to look like your beloved phantom. His suit is littered with streaks of crimson, the truth about his nature staring you right in the face as he slowly takes a step toward you with an outstretched hand.

Perfect timing, as always.

“I just had a really rough day at work.” You mutter, letting your hand instinctively slip inside his fingers as he draws you near. You aren’t necessarily lying to him, but you can’t bear to tell him the whole truth yet either. “That’s all.”

Had he been with Klaus earlier tonight? Had they killed someone together? Compelled them to stay calm, not to scream or run away before they drank their blood until there was nothing left? Had they done it so many times in their endless lives together that they don’t even register it as something bad anymore? How could someone so calm and considerate like Elijah be related to someone so fiercely aggressive as Klaus? Even worse, how could someone like you who claims to be such a good person be attracted to both of them despite it all?

The reality of your situation slowly begins to set in now that you’re free of Klaus’ pheromones, the brutal truth of what you have to do now more obvious than ever. You have to leave. It’s the only logical course of action. If you stay and choose Klaus, you’ll have to deal with seeing Elijah every day, and you’ll be heartbroken as you keep that secret between you… if he’s even kind enough to keep it. If you stay and choose Elijah, you can only imagine what maniacally violent punishment Klaus might dole out to you in retaliation… and to his brother. And if you stay and choose neither of them, well… the odds just aren’t really in your favor, are they?

Damn your libido!

“Are you alright?” Elijah asks softly, placing a single chaste kiss on the nape of your neck as his other hand holds onto your waist, calming your nerves somehow. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I umm…” You try to disguise the weight of your dilemma as best you can, all while telling him something along the lines of the truth. “This patient of mine, she doesn’t know how much time she has left. She thought it was just a simple stomach ache, maybe a food allergy or a survivable chronic illness like Crohn’s, but now they’re testing her for something more serious, for something fatal.”

“I’m so sorry.” His free hand undoes the loose knot of your towel, setting your naked body free as he sends the terry cloth falling silently to the floor. “She must be terrified.”

“She is,” you admit, relishing in the comfort of his touch as he navigates his palms over your breasts and belly as if they’re precious jewels to be treasured. “But the choices she’s made up until now can’t be taken back, can’t be erased no matter how hard she wishes they could be.”

Elijah’s lips part as he takes you in, his features softening before shrugging out of his jacket and tie. “Even those of us who live forever wish we could turn back time, that we could take back certain decisions.” He sets his clothes on the back of a chair and unbuttons his collar. “Your job has to be filled with people who are shrouded in regret.”

“It is.” You help him unbutton the rest of his shirt, recognizing that this may be the very last time he holds you in his arms before the truth comes out, before it’s all over. That bittersweet realization fills your eyes with tears that aren’t quite heavy enough to fall onto your cheeks as you look down at his navel before pulling his perfectly pressed shirt off his torso.

Good God, you’re going to miss this. You’re going to miss him.

Elijah takes your hand as his shirt falls to the floor next to your towel and guides you over to the couch, setting you in between his legs with his chest against your back. “And what are your patient’s options? What can she do?” He kisses his questions between your shoulder blades as his fingers massage your aching muscles, releasing the tension in your body the way that only he can. You swear that one of his immortal gifts is the strength in his magical fingers, and you can already imagine how many tears you’ll cry the next few nights in your bed without them. But for now, you’ve got to put on a brave face.

“She could make a drastic life change that might give her a sliver of a chance at survival.” You blink your tears into your lashes before closing your eyes as he continues to knead his thumbs against your skin, replacing your sorrow with a deep somatic pleasure. “But she wonders if it’s too late, if she’s in too deep to even make any kind of a difference.”

“That sounds very bleak, little Lotte.” He rubs his hands over your shoulders and up the back of your neck, collecting your hair at the top of your head to better massage your scalp as you languidly drop your chin to your chest. He grins as your rapid breathing eventually slows to a cool, measured rhythm with each pass of his fingers, the pressure slowly increasing before his hands finally venture down toward the peaks and valleys of your chest.

“I know, I feel terrible.” You mumble as he pinches your nipples, twisting them hard enough for your muscles to tighten back up, ruining all the work that he’d just done to get you relaxed. You lean back against him with a needy moan, your head resting on his shoulder as you feel his heart beating faster, his own arousal grows against the expensive fabric of his pants.

“Why don’t you let me take your mind off of it for a while?” His hand travels down your stomach as he whispers into your ear, sending tingling waves of warmth up your spine as it wastes no time in settling in between your thighs. He kisses your lips with a smile as he feels your body writhe against his, urging him to continue as his fingers take the hint and eagerly glide in between your dripping wet folds, building those waves even taller than before.

“Mmm hmm,” you moan your stuttered approval, suspending your fear for one more night as you practically fall limp in his arms. “I think I’ll let you do that.”

————————

You wake the next morning without him next to you, without his arms to wrap around you with a sleepy groan that you’ve almost gotten used to, without his chin nuzzling into the nape of your neck, pleading for five more minutes in bed with you. Those five minutes almost always turned into ten more of him thrusting inside you, working each and every muscle awake the old fashioned way as sweat dripped down his chest and melted between your thighs and his hips. But not today.

Today starts with you reluctantly opening your eyes, reaching over to the empty spot on your bed that he’d recently filled as his smoky scent lingers on your sheets and pillowcase. You inhale his aroma one last time before forcing yourself upright, greeted at least by a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen and a note next to it saying that he has business to tend to today. You pick it up and sigh with a sad smile, wishing you were awake enough to watch him walk out your door one last time, but decide that it’s all for the best, and get dressed for the day with a heavy heart.

After waiting a few painstaking hours in a cafe down the street for your phone to finally get fixed, you decide to drop by your brother’s place to see how he’s doing, holding your breath in anticipation as you wait for him to open the door after you knock three times.

“Hey loser, what’s up?” Austin seems rather surprised to see you, his expression more tired and worn than usual.

“Oh, thank God!” You wrap your arms around your brother as if your memory of being concerned for his life suddenly returns just by seeing his face. That’s funny, you don’t remember being worried about what happened to him after the night of the attack, but that doesn’t really make any sense, now does it? “I’m so glad you’re okay! I didn’t know what happened to you after…”

“Of course I’m okay, and what are you talking about?” He looks you up and down like you’ve lost your mind, like you have lobsters crawling out of your ears. “And you usually call first before you come over, are you sure everything’s alright?”

“No!” You pause, studying his features to see if he’s attempting to play some kind of prank on you or something. How could he not remember? “My phone got shattered the other night, remember? I just got it fixed.” You barge into his apartment like you own the place, shocked that he even has to ask you about it. Was he feeling alright? Were you?

He continues to stare at you as you wander aimlessly around his living area, completely bewildered.

“You mean to tell me that yours is fine? That your phone survived the attack without even a crack, a dent, nothing?! They roughed both of us up pretty bad that night, I can’t believe you don’t even have a scratch on you.”

“Doing what? And you should talk, you don’t have any marks on you, either, sis.” He seems genuinely confused as he hurriedly shuts the door behind you and locks it behind you. “Look, is everything alright? Did you hit your head or something? Are you talking about the night that we had dinner together? When you ran into your buddy Elijah and I had to walk the rest of the way home by myself?”

“Yes!” You nod, folding your arms across your chest. Now you’re getting somewhere.

He rolls his eyes. “You were supposed to be my designated walker that night, by the way.” He walks over to the couch and plops down with a loud, disappointed sigh, a sound you know all too well. “Thanks for nothing, I guess. I hope you at least got laid, or some free drinks. That guy reeks of money.”

Holy shit, Elijah compelled him to forget everything about the attack that night. It really does work. Fuck, you’re in trouble!

You sit down on the couch next to your brother, looking him deep in the eye. “You really don’t remember anything else about that night, do you?”

“No.” He sits up straight and looks at you solemnly, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “Sis, what the fuck is going on? You’re scaring me.”

You consider telling him the truth about everything you’ve been through these past few weeks, about Elijah and Klaus, about vampires and witches, but all the sudden you see the benefit of compulsion. You see that wiping someone’s memory of an event or a person isn’t always necessarily a bad thing. It can keep your brother safe and in the dark while the creatures of the night lurk around the corners of the city feasting on the innocent while he remains none the wiser. Maybe it’s better if you leave him like this, to continue on believing only in the things that he can explain with laws and logic.

“Maybe it was just a bad dream.” You whisper softly, looking down at your feet before glancing back up at him. “Sometimes they just seem so real, you know?” You bite your lower lip as a mixture of guilt and futility washes over you, almost triggering those tears to come back with a vengeance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” You take a deep breath and ruffle his hair before standing up from the couch, realizing that you’re on your own with this from here on out. It’s probably better to keep him out of the mess you’ve created for yourself. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Alright, but… don’t be a stranger, okay? And if you need anything, anything real, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I promise.” You hug him before seeing yourself out, walking down the street toward the bus station before everything goes black.

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

Tags: @hcqwxrtss123 @hayleym1234 @derangedangel @spnaquakindgdom @natalie668 @arbesa-mind

[daydreamtofiction]

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 16: Sanctuary

Contents | Part 15 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) Ellis gets the keys to her new flat.

Word Count: 7.9K (Grab a snack my dudes, it's a long one.)

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, adult and sexual themes, alcohol consumption, body insecurity. Smut: penetrative sex, oral sex (receiving), lurrv making, praise, worship, aftercare, feels. Readers must be 18+

A/N: If you enjoyed this chapter I would so, so, so appreciate it if you left a comment. It helps a lot and means more than you’ll ever know to hear what you all think. Thank you so much, hope you enjoy this one as much I do 🤍

"Jesus Christ." 

You considered it a talent; how easily you could compel a priest to take the Lord's name in vain. 

Father Benedict's knuckles were blanched, bone white as he clung to the handle above the passenger door of his car. You could have sworn you saw him make the sign of the cross from the corner of your eye, mumbling a prayer under his breath. 

"At least there's nothing here for me to crash into," you said, taking a hand off the steering wheel to gesture to the empty supermarket carpark around you. 

"Both hands on the wheel," he said.

"Sorry." 

"It's alright, you're doing fine, just... Remember you need to slow down as we approach this turn." 

"Okay." You looked down at your foot as you took it off the accelerator, swapping it to the brake.

"Eyes up, Ellis. You have to do it without looking." 

"Oh, yeah, sorry." 

"Now, get ready to press the clutch down." 

"Why do I need to press the clutch?"

He rubbed his eyes, trying to disguise his growing frustration. "To move into first gear." 

"Oh." You looked down at your feet again. 

"Ellis... Ellis!" 

You looked up, slamming your foot on the brake and bringing the car to a sudden, hard stop just inches from a row of bollards. The car shuddered and the engine cut out, you turned to look at Father Benedict, his hand still gripping the handle above his head.

He closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself with a deep breath before glancing over at you. "It's fine," he said calmly. "Just restart the car and let's keep going." 

You fiddled with the keys until the engine roared back to life, the car jerking forward suddenly before cutting out again. 

"Clutch," he said quietly. 

"Right, yes. Clutch. I just- Y'know it's really hard having to do foot things, hand things and eye things all at once."

"Eye things... You mean seeing...?" 

"Yes," you said, starting the car again and moving the gearstick into first. You pulled off slowly, turning the corner that led you back into the empty carpark. "I have to look in front of me, behind me and either side, somehow all at once, while simultaneously using two feet to operate three pedals, and two hands to steer a wheel, indicate and change gear every other fucking second." 

"Change gear." 

"Hm?" 

"You need to change gear. Can you not hear the engine? It sounds like it's going to explode." 

"Oh." You looked down at your feet as you pressed the clutch, then down at your hand as you fiddled with the gearstick. 

He leaned over quickly, gripping the steering wheel with one hand to stop the car veering through the empty bays.

"Shit, sorry," you muttered, taking over again. "I'm pissing you off, aren't I." 

"No! No of course not. I just can't believe you've managed to go your whole life without ever driving a car." 

"Oh, well funny story actually," you began sarcastically. "See, I was in this really serious car crash when I was thirteen and had to be cut out of the wreck with heavy machinery. Oh, and my brother died in the driver's seat right next to me while we waited for emergency services. It was quite traumatising, believe it or not, so when I finally got old enough to take driving lessons I'd have panic attacks at the wheel. Which meant I never actually got to learn. Did I not tell you about that? I'm sure I told you about that."

"Okay, alright, fair point. I apologise." He held his hands up in surrender. "Why don't we have a go at parking instead?" 

He directed you to a space near the back, trying his best to sound encouraging as he talked you through it. 

"Here," he said. "So you're going to slow down and start turning the wheel just before this line, okay?" 

You did as he instructed, driving towards the space and beginning to slow down. 

"Slower," he said. "Even slower. Now start turning- Nope, not that much- You're still going too fast-"

You somehow managed to park diagonally across three spaces, stalling once again in the process. 

"You know what, it's fine," you said with a shrug. "I just... It's time we all accept that I wasn't made to drive, I was made to be driven."

"No, come on, you can do this," he laughed. "Turn the car back on." 

You huffed and did as you were told, like a sulking child. He leaned over and grabbed the wheel, glancing in the rearview mirror before looking at you. 

"Right, clutch down and put it in reverse... Reverse... The one with the R on it, Ellis... Okay, that's it. Now gently on the accelerator." 

The car slowly began to roll backwards. He took your hands and put them on the wheel. 

"Now brake. Okay." He let go and sat back in the passenger seat. "Clutch, first gear, and we'll drive down there." 

"You make this look so easy when you do it," you said as you fiddled with the gearstick.

"It is easy once you get used to it. Becomes like second nature."

"Mm. Or maybe you're just good at everything."

"I'm not good at everything," he laughed.

"Okay, name something you're bad at." 

He paused in thought. "My handwriting's awful." 

You laughed softly, bringing the car to a gentle stop. "Oh my god, I didn't stall." 

"See, I told you," he replied with a smile. "Now get out of my car." 

You climbed out and made your way to the passenger side, waiting as he battled to force open the stiff door. You grabbed the handle and pulled as he pushed, eventually managing to pry it open. He got out, blowing a stray curl out of his eyes and looking down at his watch. 

"Come on, we better get back."

He placed a hand on the top of your head, scrunching his fingers gently in your hair before making his way around to the driver's side of the car. 

You loved when he touched you like that. The simple, chaste gestures that served no purpose beyond showing his affection for you; the comforting hand on the back of your neck or the light squeeze of your thigh, the head scratches and sweep of his thumb across your cheek. There was something so intimate about being touched so purely, how naturally he had inhabited your personal space, and how easily you'd welcomed him in. 

You arrived back at the rectory soon after, Father Benedict's car shuddering as it rolled along the gravel driveway. 

"Have I fucked up your car?" you asked. 

"Nah." He shook his head. "It's on its last legs anyway." 

He got out and lifted two large packs of bottled water from the boot. You tried to take one from him but he refused, insisting on carrying them both. It was late August, the air void of any breeze, thick and muggy despite the cloudy sky. You walked with him down the winding path that led to the pub, beads of sweat peppering your face by the time you got inside. You followed him into the back room, another sign added to the door which read:'St Augustine's Church Book Club - Wednesdays 11am'. And for a moment you questioned why the hell you'd chosen to spend your day off doing this. Why anyone would do this at all. 

You quickly blotted your face with the bottom of your t-shirt, immediately walking over to the windows and pushing them open one by one. It made no difference; there was no air, the outside just as warm and still as it was inside. You rolled your eyes and wandered to the pile of metal chairs, taking them out and unfolding them one by one. 

Father Benedict was humming to himself, his back to you as he set the bottles down on the floor and tore through the packaging. "Ellis, would you mind getting started on the ch-" he turned around to find you already setting them up in a circle. 

"I'm a pro now, Father," you joked.

"That you are," he laughed, turning his back to you again as he unpacked the bottles and set them on the table. "Thank you for helping me with this, I know it's a pain in the arse."

"I don't mind. After that driving lesson this morning I think I owe you."

He chuckled. "Hopefully when Edith gets out of hospital she'll feel well enough to take over again. But until then," he turned around and placed his hands on his hips with a sigh. "Looks like I run a book club." 

You laughed softly. "You're a good soul." 

"I do try." 

There was a moment of quiet, your eyes fixed on each other from across the room, subtle smiles and unspoken desire. He broke first, clearing his throat and looking down at his watch. 

"Right, people should be arriving soon," he said. "Do you want to stick around for the meeting and I'll drive you home afterwards?" 

"I would but I have some last minute flat stuff to sort out before I move in next week." You placed the last chair down to complete the circle. "I can't believe how fucking expensive some things are. Dining tables, hundreds and hundreds of pounds. Why?" 

He bowed his head and laughed. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye," you said with a smile, certain you could feel him watching you as you walked away.

You held the keys in the palm of your hand, staring down at them like you couldn't believe it was real. You hadn't even realised you'd arrived until your father nudged you, jokingly singing She's Leaving Home by The Beatles. 

You rolled your eyes and breathed out a laugh, opening the door and jumping out of the van. You walked up to the front gate, staring up at the building, wondering why you suddenly felt scared. 

"Are you going in or what?" your father called out as he slid open the large side door of his van. 

You glanced over your shoulder at him, then back to the building, taking a deep breath and pushing through the gate. You unlocked the front door and walked inside, the cute frog doormat still sitting outside your neighbour's door.

Neighbour. You had neighbours now. 

You made your way up the first flight of stairs, turning to head up the second when the door of 336B opened and a man stepped out onto the landing with a large bin bag in his hand. You almost walked right into him, stumbling backwards slightly.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry," he said.

"It's okay," you replied with a polite laugh.

He stepped aside for you to walk past. "Narrow landings," he said. 

"Yeah." 

You had just reached the first step when he turned and called out to you. "Are you the new neighbour?" 

You nodded.

"Oh, cool, nice to meet you. I'm Rav."

"Ellis. Nice to meet you too." 

"Have you met the downstairs neighbours yet?" 

"No, but I like their doormat." 

He smiled. "Well her name's Lorna, I'm sure she'll come and introduce herself at some point. It's just her and her daughter Blossom." 

"Blossom...?" 

"Yeah." He laughed. "The name'll make sense when you meet them. Anyway, welcome to the building, I better go and get rid of this bag that is definitely not full of pizza boxes."

You breathed out a laugh, giving a slight wave as he disappeared down the stairs. He'd left his door ajar, and it made you feel safe, somehow. Like your building was the kind of place where people could leave their front doors open without worrying, have friendly chats on the landing as they passed each other.

You continued up the stairs, fiddling with the keys in your hand as you approached your new front door. Maybe you'd paint it a fun colour, get yourself a cute doormat too. You unlocked it and stepped inside, swallowing past a lump in your throat as you walked into the middle of the stark, empty living area, the wooden floor glittering with shafts of multicoloured light from the stained glass window.

You sat on the floor and lay down, arms and legs outstretched like a star, basking in the silence, the empty space that was yours to fill. It smelled like fresh paint, a piece of masking tape still stuck to the coving in the corner. You wondered how hard it would be to decorate the ceiling; cover it in stars or patterned wallpaper, paint it like a cloudy sky. You had all the time in the world to decide, the thought making you smile. 

"The fuck are you doing?" 

You sat up to see Mara stepping into the flat, Soleil perched contently on her hip. You clambered to your feet, staring at her as she stood with a raised eyebrow, still so pretty despite the confused scowl on her face. Her eyes darted around the room then back to you, waiting for you to say something.

You weren't a hugger. Neither was she. But still, you found yourself hurrying across the room towards her, wrapping your arms around her and holding her tight.

"Thank you," you said. 

She stilled for a moment before gently rubbing your back. "You're welcome. Just don't get the place repossessed." 

You laughed and pulled away. 

"Nathan's downstairs helping dad up with all your stuff," she said. "I just thought I'd come up and see the place before you fill it with shit." 

"It's nice, isn't it." 

"It's beautiful. I love this." She pointed to the window. "Anyway, I can't stay. I'm taking this little one to a mother and baby class. Shoot me. But I'll pop round once you're settled. We can kill each other putting together some flatpack furniture."

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. 

"I'll see you soon. Happy moving day."

"Enjoy your class." 

She brought two fingers to the side of her head, miming a gunshot. 

You watched as she walked out, her voice suddenly becoming high-pitched and animated as she talked to Soleil. When you could no longer hear her, you sat back down on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you waited for Nathan and your father. 

For months, your life had sat inside a cluttered garage, waiting, waning, much like you. Now all of a sudden there was light. 

You hadn't gotten used to the intercom yet; the loud buzz still making you jump whenever it rang through the flat. You rushed to the door, practically hurdling over boxes to get there, and pressed the button on the wall. 

"Hello?" 

"It's me." 

You inhaled sharply through your nose, trying to hold in the smile threatening to spread across your face. "I'll be down in a second." 

You ran downstairs, not bothering to change out of your t-shirt and pyjama shorts, and opened the front door, the smile finally breaking through when you saw Father Benedict on the other side. He was in his own clothes; a grey t-shirt, dark jeans and trainers. You still found it strange seeing him so casual, so normal. But even in the most ordinary of clothing, there was still something ethereal about him. 

"Hi," you said.

"Hi." He gave a charming smile.

"Do you want to come in?" 

"Yes, I would much prefer that to standing on the doorstep." 

You laughed sarcastically, allowing him to step in and closing the door behind him. 

He followed you upstairs, the closer you got, the tighter your stomach became. You were excited; excited to see him in your space, to blur the lines between your two worlds. 

"So obviously I've only been here for two days," you said as you walked into the flat. "So it's still mostly unfurnished. And there's boxes everywhere. And I haven't-"

"Wow," he whispered as he stepped inside. 

"What do you think?" 

"It's nice. Really nice. And this..." He wandered over to the window. "It's beautiful." 

"I know." You felt a slight sense of pride wash over you, his approval mattering more than you thought it would. "Do you want a tour?" 

"Sure." 

"Okay, well obviously this is the living room," you gestured to the space around you. 

There was a small second-hand couch, an old coffee table from your mother's house and a TV balanced atop a cardboard box. Your green chair sat in the window, the place you'd spent the majority of the last two days.

He followed you through to the alcove where you opened each door. "Bathroom. Spare room or office, haven't decided yet. And my bedroom..." 

He peered inside the empty room, furrowing his brow at the double mattress on the floor, your duvet and pillows strewn messily on top. 

"My bed won't be delivered for another three weeks," you said. 

"Ah." 

"I actually don't mind this though. It's quite comfy." 

He smiled at you, following you back towards the kitchen. 

"And this is my kitchen, complete with empty cupboards and a microwave I have no idea how to use." 

"Love it." 

You laughed.

He cocked his head slightly, eyeing you for a moment. 

"What?" you asked. 

He shrugged. "I just like seeing you like this. You're happy."

You paused for a moment. "I really am." 

There was a lull as he gazed down at you, eyes creasing with joy from seeing you so content. But after a moment he snapped out of it. 

"Oh, I brought you a little gift," he said, reaching to pull something from his back pocket. "Now, I know you're not religious, but in the catholic faith this is supposed to bring protection to your home, so I wanted you to have one..." 

He handed you a small glass picture frame, the edges decorated with intricate gold filigree. Inside was a depiction of Christ, a vibrant red heart on his chest. 

"It's the sacred heart," he said, an uncertainty in his tone. "You can tell me to go fuck myself if you don't want to-"

"No. No, this is... It's really thoughtful. Thank you." You pressed it to your chest, smiling at him appreciatively, before walking past him into the living area. 

He followed, watching from the kitchen doorway as you placed the dainty frame in the middle of the coffee table. You turned to see him smiling, creating the deep lines in his cheeks that you loved so much. 

You looked around for a moment before clearing your throat. "Do you have to be anywhere?" 

"Nope, I am completely free for once."

"Really? Well, would you maybe want to stay for a while? I was just going to order food and maybe watch some films or..." 

"What films?" 

"Oh, let me think, erm... Passion of the Christ... Stigmata... The Exorcist... The God Father." 

He gave a sarcastic laugh. "Hilarious." 

You smirked, far too proud of your own joke. 

"Yes. I'd love to stay," he said sincerely.

"Great." 

There was another moment of quiet between you as you stood across the room from each other. He was leaning against the kitchen doorframe with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, while you hovered near the coffee table, nervously twiddling your fingers. Since you met him, you had always been the guest. Now suddenly you were the host, and you weren't sure what you were supposed to do. 

"What's that going to be?" he asked, nodding towards a pile of wood, screws and nails on the floor.

"A bookcase. I got annoyed and gave up." 

He chuckled and walked over to it, crouching down to read the instructions before picking up a heavy, black Dr Marten boot. "Please don't tell me this is what you're using for a hammer."

"What else would you suggest I use?" 

"An actual hammer...?" He picked up a bread knife, holding it up at you with a raised eyebrow. 

"Screwdriver," you said. 

He dropped his head and laughed. "Okay. Okay, I can work with it." 

"Oh, you don't have to-" 

"I want to," he said, grabbing a large plank of wood and leaning it against the wall. "Doesn't look too complicated."

You'd never found traditional masculinity particularly attractive before; never desired a man who could build or fix or lift. But for two hours, you watched Father Benedict put together your bookcase. You watched him heave heavy slabs of wood with ease, hold nails between his lips as he eyeballed measurements and use his t-shirt to mop the sweat from his brow. 

When he was done, he took a step back, hands on hips as he admired his work. He knocked his fist against the side of it, showing you just how sturdy it was, and moved the entire thing across the room and back twice when you changed your mind about where it should go.

You were sitting together now, cross-legged on the floor in front of it as you sorted through a box of books. You had a specific system, a particular way you liked to order your shelves. You knew it was annoying, remembering how Alfie would huff whenever he put a book on your shelf only to have you move it back to its original place soon after. But Father Benedict didn't huff, didn't get irritated or tell you it was stupid. Instead he was patient; asking you questions and trying to learn the system so he could follow it without having to ask where things should go.

He reached into the box and pulled out the bible he'd given you, sticky notes still poking out from between the pages. It felt like a lifetime ago now, a relic of an era you didn't even recognise anymore. He held it up and you smiled. 

"You can have it back if you want," you said. 

"No, you keep it," he said, sliding it onto the shelf in the exact place you would have put it. 

You sifted through a handful of books, finding a small, leather-bound binder amongst them. 

"Is that a photo album?" he asked. 

"No," you lied, throwing it back in the box.

He pulled it back out immediately, opening it and flicking through the plastic wallet pages with a grin. He turned it around to show you a picture; your scrawny, eight-year-old self scowling at the camera as she sat on a sun lounger beside a hotel pool. 

"I was annoyed because my mum was forcing me to wear a t-shirt in the water," you said. 

He gave a deep chuckle in his throat, turning the album back to him and fanning his thumb across the photos. 

"Is this your brother?" he asked, showing you another picture.

You tilted your head to one side, looking down at the image you vividly remembered being taken. You were twelve, wearing a blue floral shirt beneath a brown pinafore dress, a large rubber mallet in your hand. Cain was standing beside you in a white vest, ugly Hawaiian shirt and bright red trousers, his hair styled in a ridiculous quiff. 

"Yeah," you said. "We were at my aunt and uncle's costume party." 

He looked at the picture for a moment. "He went as Ace Ventura?" 

"Mhm." 

"Nice." He smiled, before narrowing his eyes. "Who the fuck were you supposed to be?" 

"I was Kathy Bates in Misery," you said bluntly, as if it were obvious.

He burst into laughter. "What kid chooses that as a costume?" 

You shrugged. "What would you have preferred I go as? A Spice Girl?" 

He continued to giggle, shaking it away as he analysed the photo closer. "You have his smile." 

"You think so?" 

"Mhm." 

You took the album from him gently, closing it and putting it back in the box. "Evidently I have his driving ability too." 

His mouth opened slightly, eyes widening as he breathed out a laugh. "That was dark." 

"I was a kid who loved Stephen King films, what do you expect?" 

His mouth curled into a half smile. 

You struggled to your feet, your legs tingly and numb from sitting cross-legged for so long. You hobbled to the couch and picked up your phone, turning back to look at him. 

"Shall we order food?" 

The sun was slowly fading, a promise that summer was finally coming to an end. The dim light melted through the window, making the flat feel smaller, cozy and serene. You convinced him to watch trashy reality TV while you ate dinner on the couch, laughing as he grew invested in the drama, shouting at the screen with a mouthful of food. 

You couldn't remember ever feeling this comfortable with another human being. It was effortless, harmonious; two voices blending together to create something new and beautiful. You had been drawn to his exterior, attracted to the parts you could see on the surface. But the deeper you delved, you only seemed to discover more to adore. 

The coffee table was strewn with empty takeaway boxes and trays. Obnoxiously loud music played as the end credits of the show began to roll. You forced yourself to get off the couch, making your way towards the kitchen. 

"Do you need another drink?" you asked.

"Please," he replied, stuck to the couch and nursing his full stomach. 

You pushed through the door and opened the fridge, pulling out the bottle of champagne your mother had given you as a housewarming gift. 

He looked up at you as you returned, his eyes creasing with amusement at the bottle and two mismatched mugs in your hands. 

"I'm not the champagne-flute-owning kind of person," you said. 

"No way," he teased.

You rolled your eyes and sat beside him, popping the cork and pouring some into each mug. 

He waited for you to bring the mug to your lips before taking a sip himself, the pair of you sharing a glance as the sharp, bubbling liquid slid down your throat. 

You grimaced. "I forgot I don't like champagne." 

He laughed, taking it and placing it on the table for you. You thanked him and relaxed back into the couch, tucking your feet beneath you as you flicked through movies on the TV. 

It grew dark outside as the movie played, the TV illuminating the room with a blueish hue. You kept asking questions, another habit Alfie would groan at until you stopped watching movies together at all. But Father Benedict simply answered them, even laughing at how thoroughly you'd misunderstood the plot.

You sat forward and grabbed your mug of champagne, wincing as you took another sip. "So now who's that?" you asked, pointing at the TV.

"That's the big boss," he said. 

"But I thought the other guy was the big boss?" 

"He is. Of the rival group." 

"Oh. But then why did those men go and talk to him before?" 

"Well because it's obviously being hinted at that they're moles of some kind." 

"Ah." You put your mug back on the table. 

He looked at you, his mouth curling with a smile. "You're still not following, are you." 

"Nope." 

He gave a deep, throaty laugh. "We can watch something else if you'd prefer?" 

You shook your head and leaned back against him, absentmindedly taking his arm and draping it around your shoulders. "I'm enjoying it." 

"You keep saying you don't have a clue what's going on..." 

"Yeah but you do. So we're watching it." 

He paused for a moment, exhaling a quick, soft breath through his nose. You felt his body relax, his arm wrapping around you more securely. He placed his other hand in his lap, palm up, silently asking you to hold it. You linked your fingers through his and he squeezed your hand gently.

When the movie ended, you didn't move, too comfortable and content in his embrace. You watched the credits roll to the very end, the remote control just out of reach. Father Benedict moved his arm, scratching your head with the tips of his fingers. You turned your head to look up at him.

"I thought you'd fallen asleep," he said. 

You laughed softly and forced yourself to sit upright. "Of course not, I was just very invested in the film." 

He smirked. "Of course, silly me." 

You looked at him, admiring the structure of his face beneath the glow of the TV; the soft shadows and sharp angles, smile lines and pale, captivating eyes. 

"Thank you for spending your one, very rare night off with me," you said. "I know there's probably a million things you'd rather be doing than building bookcases and explaining movie plots to me."

He shook his head. "There is nothing else I'd rather be doing." 

His own words seemed to give him pause. You cocked your head, watching as his eyes rounded, turning soft and glassy, his jaw relaxing, lips parting ever so slightly. 

"What's up?" you asked. 

"Nothing," he said quietly, blinking a few times and swallowing hard. 

You thought about pressing him for a moment, but you didn't. Instead you got up and gathered the mess from the table. 

"Do you want something different to drink?" you asked. "I can't stomach that champagne anymore." 

He shook his head distractedly, staring blankly at the TV. 

You shrugged and carried the rubbish into the kitchen, stuffing it in the bin and forcing it down until the lid finally closed. Then you moved to the sink to wash your hands, peering out at the tall, thick tree that stretched across the window. In the mornings, you could hear birds singing inside it, and at night you would watch the leaves sway gently in the breeze. 

You were drying your hands when the door opened behind you. You glanced over your shoulder to see Father Benedict stepping into the kitchen. 

"Hey," you said. "Changed your mind about the drink?" 

He didn't say anything as he walked up behind you, turning you around to look at him and taking your face in his hands. 

You stayed quiet as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, inhaling deeply as he kissed you softly, slowly, earnestly. You placed a hand on his cheek, returning the kiss, following his lead. His breath quivered as he broke away - just for a moment - to tilt his head the other way and bring his lips back to yours. He moved a hand to the back of your head, clutching your hair in his fist, the other slipping around your waist to pull you closer to him. You curved your hands around the back of his neck, rising onto your toes to kiss him with more ease.

Usually when you kissed, there was an urgency behind it, a hunger, a primal, impatient need for one another that made you move with haste and vigour. But this was different, somehow. It was longing, desperate, intense. You could feel anguish in his hold of you, reverence in the way he moved his lips, so slowly and deliberately. 

He broke away again, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against yours. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his chest, resting them there as you caught his gaze with your own, searching his eyes for a clue, a reason for his sudden sincerity. But all you saw was adoration, a shimmer in his waterline. 

You led him to your bedroom, his hold on you never wavering as you moved together through the flat, as though he couldn't bring himself to let go of you, even for a second. You opened the door and pulled him gently into the room, kissing him with the same care and patience he'd shown you. 

The room was dark and cool, the curtain-less window letting in a dim glow from the streetlights outside. You wished you'd taken the time to make the bed this morning; your rumpled duvet and mismatched pillows strewn across the sad mattress in the middle of the floor. You opened your mouth to apologise for it, but he caught the words in another kiss before they could surface. 

He broke away to take off his t-shirt, throwing it aside and immediately returning his lips to yours, as though any second he was deprived of you was a second too long. You let your fingers dance over the ridges of his torso; the firm muscle of his chest and soft flesh of his belly, the trail of hair beneath his navel and smooth skin slowly puckering with goosebumps. You could no longer imagine a world where this body didn't belong to you. 

You moved your hands to the waistline of his jeans but he stopped you, gently pulling his hips back and reaching for the hem of your t-shirt instead. You raised your arms above your head as he peeled it from you, still fighting the urge to hide yourself from him as he laid eyes on your body, even after all this time. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing you deeply as he unclasped your bra. You slid the straps down your arms and let it fall to the ground, melting as the warmth of his chest pressed against yours. 

He lowered you both to the mattress, laying you gently on your back as he began showering your body in kisses. Your core fluttered with every warm press of his lips to your skin, your nipples growing tight and hard, making you shiver as his tongue grazed over them. He moved lower, kissing your ribs, hips and stomach, letting his hands roam in tandem with his mouth, taking in as much of you as he could at once. 

You tensed your abs beneath his lips, arching your back, making your body appear firmer, ridding yourself of any curves, any softness you didn't want him to see. He responded by kissing the parts you couldn't hide; the dip at your waist and the rounds of your breasts, the soft spot over your womb and the imprint your pyjama shorts had left on your hips. He was admiring the things you thought of as flaws, worshipping them like virtues. 

He slid the shorts further down your thighs. You lifted your backside off the mattress, allowing him to drag them down along with your underwear. He tossed them aside and continued to cover you in kisses; the heat of his breath making your body tingle, the anticipation of feeling him in the place that craved him most sending shivers through your core. His lips grazed over the crease where hip met thigh, slowly travelling inwards but never touching your centre. 

You sighed in desperation, reaching down to stroke his hair. He glanced up at you, like your touch had snapped him out of a trance, and crawled back up to kiss your lips. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close to you, the solid bulge in his jeans pressing against your stomach. 

"Are you teasing me?" you whispered, playfully thrusting your hips against his erection. 

He breathed out a soft laugh before falling serious again. "I'm indulging in you." He kissed your neck. "You, Ellis, are the most... divine woman I have ever met."

Divine - Of a God, or God-like. 

Was that really how he saw you? Heavenly? Seraphic? Something worthy of worship? In the beginning, you'd been a temptation, a test, a weakness. But now, you were divine.

He trailed his kisses back down your body, parting your legs and pressing his lips to your inner thighs. You lay back and closed your eyes, fists clenching the duvet beneath you as his tongue finally made contact with your clit, so lightly it was almost torturous. 

You'd gotten so used to the severity of your interactions; the pent up frustration or deep, aggressive need that made sex hard, rough and intense. It's what you wanted, what you enjoyed. You'd almost forgotten it could be like this; tender, forbearing, every breath hanging like a pause in the air between you. 

He licked along the seam of your pussy, lapping and sucking as he hummed in pleasure, like he could happily spend the entire night with his face buried between your legs.  

"Ben," you whispered.

Your back arched as he flicked his tongue, focusing the pressure on your clit, hands wrapping around your thighs to hold you in place. You whimpered, filling the quiet room with the sound of your shallow breaths as your fingers dug into the sheets. You never understood why it took so long to give yourself an orgasm, yet every time, without fail, he had you on the brink in minutes. It was like your body had an express setting, and he was the only person who knew how to activate it. 

He didn't speed up, didn't change pressure or adjust your positions. Yet still, the slow, gentle sweeps of his tongue drew the climax from you in a deep, shuddering rush. Your legs shook, toes curling as an electric current whirred through your core. You moaned softly, reaching down to grab whatever part of him you could as you rode out your orgasm against his mouth. 

You hadn't even realised he'd moved until you felt him kiss your jaw, the weight of his body on your chest. If you were divine, then you were convinced he must be God himself. You turned your head, catching his lips with your own and cupping his face in your hands. He reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, his hard cock springing out against your stomach as he shimmied them off. 

You spread your legs further, rocking your hips wantonly. He sighed into your mouth, breaking away and resting his forehead against yours, looking down into your eyes as he shifted to position himself at your entrance. 

He groaned as he entered you, slipping effortlessly through the slick and filling you with a familiar, breathtaking pressure. He drew back and pushed inside again, slowly, making you feel every ridge and vein, every inch and pulsation against your inner walls. A quiet moan escaped you, a tight coiling deep in your belly making you squeeze around him. 

He kept eye contact as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, as though nothing else in the world existed besides the place your bodies became one. He slid his fingers between yours, pushing your hands above your head and holding them there, kissing you, moaning with you, connecting with you in a way you weren't sure you'd ever connected with anyone before. 

Your breath was trembling; the friction of his cock, his groin rubbing against your clit, the weight of him on top of you, all sending you into a heady daze. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning against your skin. You let go of his hands and wrapped them around his back, holding him close to you, fingernails pressing into the flesh of his shoulder blades. 

You weren't sure how long it had been, but your thighs were starting to ache, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with every steady slide of his cock. You dug your nails deeper into his back, eliciting a growl deep in his throat. He lifted his head, brushing away the hair that had stuck to your face with sweat, and kissed you lovingly. 

The next orgasm was different than the first; it was heavier, more guttural, coming from a place deeper inside you. The first was electric and airy, spiritual and sublime. But this one was earthly, carnal, thundering through your body like an earthquake. It was so visceral that he felt it too, almost losing his composure as you came around him.

He kept kissing you, moving with long, slow strokes until your limbs softened, head falling back against the mattress in bliss. Your eyelids were heavy as you gazed up at him, a part of you certain that you could have drifted off to sleep, sated and satisfied. But the other part never wanted him to stop. 

He rested on his elbows, propping them either side of your head. "You know," he whispered. "You're the only woman I've ever came inside." 

You let out a breathy gasp, his confession sending a shiver through your entire body.

"And it is..." he continued. "The most incredible feeling." 

You whimpered, clutching the back of his neck with both hands and bringing his forehead back to yours. He almost lost it again, his rhythm faltering for a moment. He planted his palms on the mattress either side of your head, looking down at you with intense, stormy blue eyes. 

He knew you liked his voice, liked it when he said dirty things, talked to you as he buried his cock inside you. But that wasn't for you. He wanted you to know that, to understand you were separate from whoever he'd been with before. 

"Come inside me," you whispered against his lips. "Ben..."

He exhaled a heavy breath, thrusting deep and slow before finally letting go. He growled into your mouth as he sank as far as he could, cock pulsing as he released every last drop of pleasure.

You wrapped your arms around him as he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving, damp curls tickling your face. You smoothed them down, closing your eyes and relaxing beneath the shelter of his large frame. You could hear again; the whoosh of distant traffic outside, the annoying buzz of the lampposts, the sound of Father Benedict's heavy breaths. It was serene, a contentment you never knew you were capable of. 

After a while, he shifted slightly, laying kisses across your chest. You smiled, exhaling a soft laugh as his lips tickled your skin. He'd softened inside you, sliding out as he moved, continuing his kisses down to your stomach before resting his head there, seemingly more tired than he'd thought he was. You giggled again, stroking his head gently. 

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Mhm."

"You sure?"

"Yes," you said with a smile. 

"Good."

He stayed there a while longer, resting on you like a pillow, swirling his fingers over your hips and stomach as you played with his hair. 

"Ben..." you said quietly.

"Mm?"

"Don't leave me tonight."

He lifted his head to look at you. "I won't."

You nodded with a smile.

He shuffled up the mattress to lay at your side, draping a leg over yours and pulling you into him. You nuzzled your face into his neck and closed your eyes. 

You didn't think this place could feel any more like home. But with him there, you would happily never leave.

You woke groggy and confused, the side of your face stuck to Father Benedict's bare chest. You had no idea of the time, but the sky was still pitch black outside, the room colder than it was when you fell asleep. You sat up and began shuffling to the edge of the mattress when you felt him grab your arm with a sleepy grumble. You turned back to see him squinting at you in a half-sleepy state, shushing him softly and gently releasing your arm from his grasp.

"I'm just going to get some water," you whispered.

He relaxed back into the mattress and closed his eyes. You smiled and climbed to your feet, walking out of the bedroom as quietly as you could. 

You didn't bother to cover up. It was one of the joys of living alone, people would always say, being able to walk around naked. You never understood why anyone would do that, but as you padded through the flat and into the kitchen, completely unclothed, you felt like you finally got the appeal.

You glanced at the clock on the cooker - 2:34am - wondering what the hell made you stir from sleep at that time. Then you tried to swallow, your throat so dry it seemed to stick closed, and you realised that was why. You took a glass from the draining board and pulled your new water filter out of the fridge, pouring just enough for you to swill your mouth out. Then you poured a full glass, gulping it down without stopping. 

Father Benedict pushed through the kitchen door, the sudden noise making you jump in fright. 

"Sorry," he said, his voice low and croaky. 

He was naked too, his hair wild and messy, eyes still half-lidded with sleep. 

"It's okay." You put your glass down. "I didn't mean to disturb you when I got up." 

"Don't worry." He pointed to his mouth. "Could do with a drink as well."  

You padded around the kitchen together in a comfortable silence, naked in more than just body. Moonlight filtered in through the window, casting a milky glow across your skin, making everything seem soft, calm. You stretched on your tiptoes to reach a glass from the cupboard, handing it to him as he grabbed the water filter off the counter. You rinsed your glass at the sink as he guzzled down two lots of water, one after the other. Then you took his glass when he was done, rinsing it and placing it side-by-side with yours on the draining board.

You felt him press his body against your back as you stood at the sink, placing a kiss on the side of your head, another on the back of your shoulder. You let your head fall back against his chest, basking in the feeling of his hands as they roamed your body; squeezing your breasts and dipping between your legs. He slid a finger through the slick he'd left there and you hummed softly, tilting your head to give him access to your neck. He nipped you with his teeth, soothing the sting with a kiss, and you closed your eyes as his finger slid into your pussy. It was brief, shallow, but enough to make your stomach flutter. 

He brought his lips to your ear. "I like that there's still a part of me inside you." 

You shivered, composing yourself quickly and turning your head to look at him from the corner of your eye. "Only because I fell asleep." 

He gave a short, deep chuckle, his voice so gruff and low you could feel it vibrating against your ear. He inhaled deeply through his nose, letting it out in a calm, quiet breath. "Bend over." 

You raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him again. 

He squeezed your backside. "If you want to, that is..."

He fucked you in the kitchen, tiredness doing little to deter his stamina, and afterwards he carried you back to bed, stroking your hair and holding you until you drifted off again. The next time you stirred, it was you who wanted him, nudging him awake and straddling his lap, riding his cock until your body gave out, your mutual climax coming quick and with little effort.

Your joints ached, skin peppered with love bites and fingertip bruises, hair sticking to the nape of your neck with sweat. But you didn't care. It was all evidence of him, memories that would echo in the days that followed.

The mattress shifted. You opened your eyes to the room illuminated in the faint light of dawn. You blinked through the grit in your vision to see Father Benedict putting on his clothes, trying to be quiet as he hopped into his jeans and searched the floor for his t-shirt. He turned to find you sitting up watching him, making his way around to your side and crouching to bring himself face-to-face with you. 

"I have to get to the church," he said.

"Okay," you croaked, shifting to get up. 

"Hey, it's alright, you stay there and I'll let myself out." 

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Go back to sleep, it's still early."

"Okay." 

He tilted your chin up with his finger and leaned in to kiss you. 

It was gentle, lingering, like he didn't want it to end. And when he finally broke away, he pressed his forehead to yours.

"Goodbye, Ellis."

"Bye."

You watched him leave, listening as the slam of your front door echoed through the flat. Only then did you lie back down, pressing your face to the pillow he'd slept on and giving in to slumber once more.

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[istoleyoursk1n]

Hello there! I’ve seen your stuff and it’s very good! I have one for the main crew with a Dhampire!Tav. That’s essentially a half vampire born from a mother infected with vampirism and they have all the benefits of being a vampire with no, minus the thirst for blood that’s more a craving and provides a power boost, negatives. Tav tries to abstain from blood as much as possible, but does give in for emergencies.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would they react to a Dhampir!Tav

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: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Ugh. Just so you know, there can only be one. And it doesn't take much to see who’s the better vampire, darling. You best not go snacking on the delights I've claimed for myself.”

You’d think he’d be relieved but he's more so irritated by your presence at first. You’re quite literally everything he wished he was, something that makes him envy you.

You don't have to constantly satiate your thirst for blood and you can walk in the sun! Sure, he can do so now, but that's only because of the squirming little parasite in his head.

However, over time, he’d get over his bitterness, realizing that perhaps he cared for you more than he initially thought.

Sure, you have advantages he only dreamed of obtaining himself but having another vampire by his side did prove to have its own perks. All so suddenly you are both drinking goblets of blood in place of wine, dancing in the glow of the luminous moonlight as the nocturnes you are.

He's a horrible influence because there's no doubt he made you indulge in your blood cravings more than you ever used to.

Though, he’d have it no other way. He does quite enjoy the sound of a vampiric power couple racing through the night, it appeals to every fanatical dark dream he's ever had and it makes it all the more special.

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

“To see not one but two fanged companions join us on our little adventure? Well, I can't quite tell if I should be relieved or tense. Regardless, it's a pleasure to have you.”

It was conflicting enough to have one vampire in camp but two? His job was to slay monsters but you don't seem to be posing a threat at all. Less of a threat than Astarion at least.

He very quickly moves past his whole ‘but aren't I meant to kill monsters?’ conflict in favor of befriending such a compelling companion, one he finds himself growing quite fond of.

And there was just something so incredibly romantic of being a monster hunter himself and falling for a creature of the night (and sun at this point).

As corny as it sounds, he’d been dreaming up that fantasy for a while now, finding himself going out of his way to woo and win over a vampire's undead heart.

One blissful dance by the lake against the twinkling stars of night, hands interlocked, and the sudden burn of piercing fangs caressing his skin only for his own soft kiss to follow—romance and its finest.

All so suddenly he's fallen head over heels for the same type of beasts he's sworn to rid of, though you are no beast in his eyes, more of an angel whose sharpened teeth could be nothing more than a sweet blessing in disguise.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

“The more the merrier I suppose. You never know when one needs four sets of fangs in the journey ahead. Perhaps, you could talk sense into another particularly bloodthirsty friend of ours, hm?”

And then there were two.

He didn't quite trust you around him at first, you were still a vampire, and frankly after the Astarion encounter, he’d rather not be bled out dry.

Over time, he’d grow curious. It's not every day he encounters a dhampir out and about. He’s read about them of course but studying an actual dhampir was a whole different story.

He would often compare you to the books he’s read about your kind to the actual information you provide him, noting that once the whole absolute mess is over, he’d gladly rewrite the dhampir section of his book collections.

Eventually, the fact that you're a dhampir would easily go over his head. He can't see you as anything else except for the companion he's grown to be incredibly fond of.

Perhaps he’d try to find other ways to satiate your blood cravings if he's ever reminded of them, doing his own little research as to what the best substitute could be. It's more so for convenience so he wouldn't have to witness another chicken being drained raw.

Other than that, he's completely contented with you, fangs included. There is no other he could have chosen to have endured this treacherous journey with.

: ̗̀➛ KARLACH

“Fucking hell! Another vampire?! Well, shit, I must be pretty damn lucky or something. Between you and me, I think it's great to have another fanged friend join us, you have got to meet Astarion!”

She gets excited over the fact that you're a dhampir for about a day before it goes over her head.

She's seen far more threatening things than a human half-vampire to ever feel the slightest bit of intimidation at your presence.

Besides, if you ever do try biting her, good luck handling blood as hot as the flames of Avernus. That’ll give her a good laugh.

She has a lovely little thing for nicknames and if she gets to call Astarion ‘Fangs’ you’re being called ‘Fangers’. Cheesy, but it makes her all the more happy.

And if the need for blood ever arises, fret not, she would gladly beat the shit out of some bastard goblin for you to snack on (if you don't mind the taste of goblin blood of course.)

Overall, the fact that you’re slightly vampiric never bothered her at all. You’re the best thing that's ever happened to her and she wouldn't mind no matter what form you took.

: ̗̀➛ SHADOWHEART

“It seems that another vampiric acquaintance joins this strange little party of ours. I suppose finding ways to satiate another vampire’s odd diet wouldn't be too much of a hassle with all the dead goblins lying around. Enjoy the meal.”

She was a bit apprehensive at first. She was already a little put off by Astarion being a vampire, she didn't quite trust herself bearing her neck around that man and now there's you.

You’d have to slowly build some trust in her if she were to ever let her guard around you, of course, there are the playful jabs here and there but she seems mostly impartial with your presence for now.

Her weariness fades soon enough, it's not as though your blood cravings are bad enough for you to turn to your own companions for a taste. She’s only ever seen you feast on animals.

Over time, she’d grow contented with your presence, hardly ever pointing out your own vampiric features as you seem quite normal for the most part.

Your advanced healing at least gives her a break from having to constantly use her healing spells so she's at least grateful for that.

She truly doesn't have any qualms about you now that she fully understands your capabilities and who you are as an individual. You are a lovely companion to have and it's fairly nice having you by her side.

: ̗̀➛ LAE’ZEL

“Chk. Best you keep your thirst for blood on our foes lest I pull out your sharpened fangs from your gnawing mouth. I will not have you or anyone come to draw blood from my own skin.”

As long as you don't intend on placing her fangs anywhere near her, she doesn't care.

She’ll base her opinion on you depending on what use you could provide to her, and seeing as you are essentially a vampire without all the negative effects that come from being one, that's perfect!

You are quite effective in and out of battle, an admirable trait she has directly told you on a handful of occasions.

It's rather flattering to hear ‘compliments’ or more so tactical observations come out of her mouth from time to time but she does seem quite impressed by your abilities.

Even the part of you that craves blood is one she doesn't quite mind as long as you aren't senselessly draining out the blood of every creature you pass.

If you two do grow close, she does actually hunt animals for you, bringing them back to you as ‘tokens of appreciation’ so you’d have something to snack on (She doesn't want to show it but seeing you indulge makes her happy).

At the end of the day, she truly sees you as a worthy companion to travel alongside her. A companion she wishes to treasure and travel with for as long as time allows her.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

“How lucky am I to have lived long enough to witness vampires having the capacity to walk in the sun? Truly such a special gift to have especially for someone like you. Perhaps one day all of your kin could have the chance to see the sun again.”

The least concerned out of all of them.

He’s lived long enough to understand whether or not you could possibly pose a threat and honestly? You don't even seem intimidating enough to phase him.

The only thing he's actually upset about is the fact that you have to kill precious creatures of nature to satiate your occasional cravings for blood.

He wished there were other alternatives, and honestly, he’d rather see you snack on a goblin than the poor critters living in the forest. Though, he does understand how foul the taste of goblin must be.

At some point, he probably would have offered himself as a substitute for your blood cravings. Better him than the animals. Though, you couldn't quite tell if he was nervous or excited about the prospect of you biting into him.

It turned out to be both when you first tried, and now it's become quite a normal thing for you two. Halsin doesn't seem to mind and you get to have a free snack from time to time.

Besides, there's something about your fangs that makes his own heart beat a tad bit faster than usual. A detail you don't miss at all and something he's very much aware of.

He trusts you enough to not drain him, and regardless, he treasures you as a companion. What you are could never stop him from being as close to you as he is now.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

[markantonys]

bridgerton s3 part 2 thoughts! full spoilers for the whole season, and i will also discuss some book spoilers relating to the future siblings - i haven't read the books and never will, but i know the main points of most of the siblings' stories due to Existing Online. haha i also briefly discuss some wheel of time book spoilers because i was reminded of a certain WOT couple at one point in these episodes!

first things first: I AM SO EXCITED THAT WE GOT NOT ONE BUT TWO (2)!!!!!!!!! CANONICALLY QUEER BRIDGERTON SIBLINGS!!!! AND MY TWO FAVORITES, AT THAT!!!! but i will save that for discussion at the end of the post because it is BY FAR my favorite aspect of these episodes.

but even with that aside, i definitely liked this half a lot more than part 1! screentime felt more balanced and it didn't feel like the sideplots were eating up as much time as it did in part 1.

penelope and colin storyline

they were Fine to me in part 1, but their story was more compelling in this half since we moved on from bland run-of-the-mill childhood-friends-to-lovers and into the meaty and much more unique emotional drama of how penelope being lady whistledown affects their relationship. just as i'd hoped for! and i thought the pacing of this was pretty good too because colin found out early enough that he had enough time left in the season to react properly and work through it, rather than it being some 11th-hour reveal that's hastily swept aside to make way for the HEA. it was juuuuust when i was starting to feel that the "colin makes a hater comment about LW in front of penelope, causing her to look ill with anxiety" shtick was getting old that he found out the truth, so, pretty good timing.

colin was more interesting in this half due to wrestling with the whole "penelope is LW" reveal, but overall, in the season as a whole, he was kinda giving us nothing. they really dropped the ball on him because he just never at any point felt like the co-lead character of the season. for daphne & simon and kate & anthony it felt like a pretty balanced exploration of both characters as individuals on top of the romance, but this season it was 100% the penelope show and colin felt basically like a prop. and penelope's a great character and had great stuff this season, so i enjoyed all the time spent on her, but we needed more for colin to go along with it. after 8 episodes, i still don't feel i know much about who he is as a person besides that he's nice and loyal. although on the flipside, i have no problem with male characters whose entire personality is loving their wives haha i love that shit! so a warm welcome for colin into the Wifeguy Club!

speaking of wifeguys, time for my WOT connection, which is that penelope and colin were SO gawene-coded in a couple scenes that it actually killed me! colin's lil arc of feeling kinda jealous of/intimidated by penelope's power as LW at first and most importantly his "what use can i ever be to her when she's so self-sufficient and doesn't need anything from me?" worries, culminating in him realizing "if the only thing i do in my life is love and support such an incredible woman, i'll be completely satisfied" (paraphrasing), i was like, that is soooo TOM gawyn with egwene being amyrlin!!! and when penelope had that line to him about like "i don't need you to take care of me, i never loved you because of what you can do for me, but because you're kind" (paraphrasing) i gasped and clapped my hand to my forehead because it was almost exactly what i had egwene saying to gawyn in my fic chapter that i posted mere days ago!!!!! literally shook to my core haha i was the leo dicaprio pointing at the TV meme x10 in that moment.

eloise and cressida storyline

wonderful to see eloise and penelope's friendship mended! i thought that whole arc was really well done this season, and especially in this half when eloise is dealing with her ex-bff being engaged to her brother who doesn't know she's LW but eloise knows and feels caught in the middle, just lots of messy, complicated emotions in that whole situation and they did a great job with all that.

i really enjoyed cressida in the first half of the season, but in this half it felt like she got a bit too much time. she also kinda reverted back to her mean girl ways (though out of desperation rather than malice), which was less interesting than the different, softer side we saw from her in the first half and made her time in this half feel like more of a drag. but overall, she's a very layered character and the actress did a fantastic job with her, and in this half of the season i always understood why she was doing what she was doing and sympathized with her. it can't be said that she didn't fuck around and find out, but i still felt bad for her in the end! i really liked the moment when colin with his rose-tinted glasses was like "but your family will forgive you and all will be well!" because that's what family has always been like to him, and cressida was like "ummm no, some of us have shitty families and you bridgertons are too naive to realize that", it was a very good moment.

(i will also say, i know this is a highly unpopular opinion for a queer bridgerton fan to have, but i was never on the eloise/cressida train haha i can 100% see the vibes that others picked up on, but they just never did anything for me for whatever reason! i know eloise was the "obvious" choice for a wlw bridgerton but i personally am so SO thrilled that they went for francesca instead, i guess just because i connect so deeply with her character in a way i never have with eloise. also, now that i'm thinking about it, i think eloise vibes the most like aroace to me, i struggle to picture her having a relationship with *anyone* of any gender.)

other storylines

i'm so happy for violet and marcus!! crossing my fingers that we'll see more of them in s4 since their romance is only just budding; it would be so interesting to see him interacting with her kids and getting integrated into the family dynamic (and for us to meet his kids too! though i acknowledge we don't need MORE side characters haha). and i loved the danbury siblings scenes and them getting to the root of their childhood issues and working them out. and of course, violet and lady danbury continue to be THE best duo of all time <33 i adore their friendship so so much, i can't even describe how much!

we got more time with kate and anthony in this half, and all of it was perfect. they're gonna be parents!!!! though alas, it seems like they've made their final exit from the show with them going off to live in india for a while. sad to see them go, but not surprised at all. i see lots of book fans whining about the prior leads leaving and how it's weird for daphne to not be at her own brother's wedding etc, and i do agree that the show/family is gonna start feeling kinda empty as the older siblings & spouses exit, but that's just a necessity of this medium. you can't have main cast be contracted for 6 more seasons just to show up for 2 lines of dialogue per season and hang out in the background of wedding scenes. you can do that in a book, but you can't do it in a tv show. just something we have to live with! and a lot of the complaints take such a "how DARE these actors want to move on with their lives and do other projects instead of dropping everything to prioritize having a minor role on bridgerton for the rest of this decade" tone, which stinks of Fan Entitlement.

i am curious about what might become of penelope, because it sounds like she's kinda continuing whistledown but just as herself and in a more responsible manner that won't hurt people (tho idk how a gossip column can possibly NOT hurt anyone haha the whole "penelope shouldn't give up LW because it's Feminist and Empowering and Gives A Voice To The Voiceless" narrative kinda had me going X Doubt). update: i just saw an interview with the showrunner where she confirmed that penelope will be in s4 and have a storyline. nice!

the featheringtons had much less in this half which i was glad about and they were taken more seriously and not just treated as comic relief, and portia had some really good scenes with penelope.

there was also much less of the mondriches, which i was fine with; i'm very fond of them and enjoyed their stuff this season, but it felt appropriate that they took more of a backseat in this half. i was sad will had to give up the club though! it felt like he had to fully capitulate to the ton and give up his own work that he's passionate about in order to win the esteem of snobby aristocrats, which was a bummer. the showrunner interview mentioned we'll be seeing them again in s4 and will be seeing some more of will's friendship with benedict, so i'm happy about that!

NOW ONTO THE GAYS!!!!

we've all been yearning for bi benedict ever since s1, and i can't BELIEVE it actually happened!!!! i'm over the moon!!!! and i'm so glad i watched the episodes straightaway without having seen any spoilers first so i got to experience the "holy shit, are they............are they going where i think they're going????" adrenaline rush completely pure and unknowing. it was the absolute most wonderful surprise!!! i'll give a lil summary here for those who are curious about how much queer content there actually is.

so, in episode 7 (or maybe it was the end of 6?) benedict gets invited to dinner with his female FWB and her male friend, who turns out to be her other FWB. AS SOON AS this invitation was extended i was like "oho, is benedict going to be needing 3 tickets to challengers?" so imagine my delight when it turned out that indeed, the 2 FWBs invited him in hopes of a threesome! benedict has a very brief moment of connection with/attraction to the man, and then he gets propositioned, but he's flustered and leaves. he returns to talk to his own FWB the next day and she explains to him about bisexuality and he's like icarly interesting.jpg and says that he's met men who like other men in the past but that he himself has never felt attracted to a man "before" (implying that last night, he did, for the first time). he does some soul-searching and then leaves his own brother's wedding reception to go have a threesome, which is extremely biconic of him. (at the wedding he also gives eloise a nice speech about how love is infinite, in the context of her worrying that colin and penelope marrying each other means they'll have less time for her, but it vibed to me like benedict is poly as well as bi, but who knows if that will go any further than this FWB threesome situation; i'd imagine his endgame will still be a monogamous relationship, but you never know!)

this storyline concludes with the female FWB admitting that she's caught feelings for benedict and wants to become serious (and monogamous) with him, but he politely turns her down because he feels "free" for the first time and wants to keep exploring life and isn't interested in a serious relationship right now, and might not ever be. my only gripe with the storyline is that i wish the male FWB had been introduced an episode or two earlier so we could watch benedict building a connection with him and feeling a budding attraction for an episode or two before the initial threesome proposition occurs to trigger him to actually acknowledge that attraction; as it is, it all happens kind of abruptly and our boy speedruns his entire bi awakening in the span of a single episode, bless him lmao but i'm assuming neither FWB will appear in s4 (they felt like one-season characters to me), so if so, it's fine to not spend too much time developing those specific relationships. the Point of the storyline was for benedict to realize he likes men too and likes non-conventional relationships, and that was accomplished with flying colors!

later on there's reference to "next year's masquerade ball" and i know a masquerade ball is where benedict first meets his endgame love interest in the books, so it seems just about guaranteed that s4 will be about benedict's book. i'm super curious about what direction it will go in! in the book, it sounds like their trope is Forbidden Romance, with the forbidden aspect being class difference (he's an aristocrat and she's a servant), so adding some kind of queer element as an additional reason for why it's Forbidden feels like a viable option, especially after s3 took pains to establish that benedict is interested in queer/non-traditional relationships.

but what form might that hypothetical queer element take? a monogamous m/m romance with genderbent sophie? or could we see trans or genderqueer sophie, in line with the cinderella metaphors about masquerade and disguise and identity and presenting differently in different environments? or might they go for some kind of poly or open relationship endgame for benedict? i don't know! there's so many options! it's also entirely possible that sophie will remain a cis woman and benedict will have a monogamous endgame with her, which i would also welcome because it is actually VERY rare to see rep of bi people ending up very happy in monogamous different-gender relationships, while still remaining firmly bi (most of the time bi characters end up in same-gender relationships, or end up in different-gender ones while dismissing their prior same-gender attractions as just a phase, or are chaotic sluts who cheat because they aren't content with only being with one person).

now on to francesca. we know for 100% fact that her love interest has been genderbent into a woman, because she was introduced at the end of the final episode! so francesca's endgame love story is guaranteed to be wlw, which is so exciting! (for context, her book endgame love interest is john's cousin michael stirling, and in the show she met john's cousin michaela stirling, so that's how we know with 100% certainty.)

taking it back a bit to the rest of her story this season, we see her and john courting, then getting engaged and married in a small wedding at bridgerton house with just the family, because they both hate being the center of attention. it was all incredibly wholesome introvert4introvert content and i adored it!!!! kept going "this is literally my ideal marriage" during so many of their scenes haha

but there is somewhat of a question of, is francesca actually attracted to john/men in general? throughout the season and even after the introduction of michaela stirling, i assumed yes; francesca clearly adores john and states that she loves him, and her body language around him seemed to me to show attraction. but after finishing the season and reading discussion online, i saw people saying that francesca seemed disappointed with kissing john at their wedding (which i'd interpreted as her just feeling shy about kissing him in front of people) and that it was a marked contrast to how flustered and interested she is when she meets michaela. so for me, the jury's out on whether she's more bi-leaning or lesbian-leaning; now that i know canon wlw francesca is a thing, i'd need to rewatch the season again to analyze her behavior with john more closely to decide what vibe i'm getting there! because on first watch it wasn't even on my radar to consider that maybe she's not actually attracted to men.

i will admit, i would be kinda disappointed if she *isn't* truly in love with john, just for the fact that i found it so delightful and refreshing to see a quiet romance that's so different from the loud melodramatic ones, as is discussed many many times during francesca's storyline this season. and i did notice that francesca tripping over her words upon meeting michaela is exactly what violet had said she did when she first met her late husband, and violet was bringing this up to say "but your way of loving john is different from that and that's valid". so i definitely CAN imagine that maybe they're making a deliberate point here that, actually, the reason why francesca's love for john looks so different from other characters' for their spouses is because she does NOT in fact have spousal love for him, but rather platonic love that she's misinterpreted as romantic. but i would just be mildly annoyed if The Point turned out to be "actually, violet is right and True Romantic Love must always be flustering and tongue-tying and dramatic" lmao but that's a personal gripe for me as a very quiet person who loved seeing the type of romantic relationship i would prefer depicted with francesca and john; i can also see the counterargument that a storyline of a repressed lesbian trying to untangle her actual feelings from comphet and societal expectations would be very powerful and important! and particularly interesting to explore in this regency context.

now on to some bigger book spoilers. so from what i understand, in the books, john dies, leaving francesca as a widow, and her love story with michael is about dealing with grief and learning to open herself up to love again after loss. i've seen the argument that francesca actually being a lesbian who wasn't genuinely in love with john would cheapen this storyline, and i can see that point for sure, but otoh it's abundantly clear that she does have a very deep care and love for him regardless of whether or not it's romantic/sexual, so i think no matter what, we will still see her being very affected and pained by his death and struggling with guilt about falling for someone else (his cousin! a woman!) etc.

what i'm most curious about here is the timing! there was some leak that michaela's actress is allegedly booked as a small part in s3 and a main role in s4. i'd been wondering if maybe they would start combining books, but in the interview i read, the showrunner confirmed that the plan is still to do only one book/sibling per season, so it seems that s4 will only be benedict's book. which makes sense, because i believe in the books francesca is married to john for 2 years before he dies and then it's another few years before she starts romancing michael, so i'd guess s4 will just see francesca develop a friendship with michaela and then maybe john dies towards the end of the season, then we do a timeskip between seasons and s5 is about francesca and michaela. but then there's still eloise to contend with, maybe she would be s5 and francesca not until 6.

i really really hope we'll get some francesca-benedict bonding next season (or s5/6 depending on the timing of francesca having her gay realization; it seems still subconscious for her as of now) since they are officially The Queer Siblings!!! i need to see them find this out about each other and talk about it together and be confidants for each other. it will also be so fascinating to see violet & the other siblings react to a queer bridgerton endgame romance. violet wants her kids to be happy, but she sometimes struggles with realizing that what happiness looks like to them may not align exactly with what happiness looks like to her, so i could definitely see her needing to take a moment to readjust her perspective and realize that francesca not being able to legally marry michaela in a public manner known to all of the ton and have biological kids with her doesn't mean they can't be just as happy as her straight kids and their partners. (on that note, i remember that in the past people have suggested francesca could be a great candidate for a wlw bridgerton because her status as a widow allows her a lot more societal freedom than a never-married woman, so i love that the show went with her! i can totally see her endgame being that of a respectable widow living peacefully in the countryside with her Dear Friend.)

i remember straightaway francesca set off my gaydar in 3x01 when she was reluctant about entering the marriage mart and dismissive at the idea of finding True Love and going ??? when people asked what qualities she wanted in a husband, and there was a scene of her talking with other debutante girls and i went "man i would love it if she got a girlfriend" but never in a million years did i actually think that was a real possibility! so i'm SO thrilled that they're going there, and like i mentioned before i quite like that they went with the polite introvert sister instead of the outspoken rebel sister to be the gay one because it just feels like a subversion of expectations and stereotypes for me, and because all season i'd been seeing so much of myself in francesca and then, finding out she's gay like me!!!! cherry on top!! and then for michaela, in the books i believe michael is yet another rake, which the show sets up for michaela too with her joking about being even more scandalous than john's stories might make her out to be - the rake is the backbone of the regency romance genre, so getting to see a wlw version of the trope with a female rake is going to be SO much fun!! esp with the setup that francesca is fairly society-conforming as of now; michaela broadening her horizons could be something interesting to explore.

wow this post got super long lmao i'm just so excited! canon queer bridgerton siblings singlehandedly turned this show from "i casually enjoy it as a few hours of fun which i forget about soon after it's over" to "i'm literally frothing at the mouth i need the next season NOW" and That is the power of representation, baby!

[obae-me]

Help I submitted that "MC's immune to Luci's siren song" ask and the brainrot has gotten so much worse- There's just so much substance to it! It inherently messes with Lucifer's ego and sense of pride, at the start of his and MC's relationship he's probably silently seething 24/7 cause what do you mean this random human he's never heard of before is entirely immune to all of his hypnosis magic???? In my headcanon of this whole AU the MC's on the more oblivious side when it comes to Lucifer's plan to keep trying to seduce them into the water, not to the point of stupidity, like no matter how much Lucifer insists they take a dip in the water they refuse unless it's like a tidepool or something cause they are aware of a sirens reputation, but still you know what I mean they're under the impression that after their first encounter Lucifer just innocently wants to be close with them and nothing else Agh and the SCENARIOS you can get with this. Okay- Like imagine with me if you will, Lucifer and the MC are spending time with one another in a secluded shallow pool of water (think like a tidepool or something similar where the waters are too shallow to properly drown in as a full grown adult), the two are kind of goofing around with one another and something something bam! MC finds themselves pinned down by and completely underneath Lucifer, and Lucifer has a thought... He could kill them right now. It's not the typical way for sirens to hunt their prey but he could use his razor sharp claws and teeth to kill and eat them like he had intended to since he met them. But, despite that being the extremely obvious solution to his "problem", Lucifer hesitates, and he finds that he's unable to will his body into harming MC, he just can't do it. And how ridiculous is that?!! The Lucifer, one of if not the most fiercest hunter of all the sirens, the man responsible for countless human deaths, finds himself unable to kill one. simple. human. How ridiculous is that?! Honourable mention the angst you could get in a situation where the MC finds out Lucifer was just planning to drown and eat them the whole time even if that's changed ("So.. Nothing we had was even real...?" type stuff) or say other sirens (not the other brothers/dateables just some random npc type characters) catch wind of MC and while they know they can't hypnotize them into the water they're not above using more forceful ways to drown them. There's so much fun to be had with this AU!!! My undying love for Luci and mermaids compels me to brainrot about it!!!!!! Monster forbidden romance for the in baybeeeeeeeee-

Screaming from the rooftops till my throat goes raw.

Drowning in a pool of my own tears.

The brainrot is real!!

Oh my god... I cannot even begin to tell you how wonderful this is.

There is so much ANGST potential! Say, for example, the reason why MC was out there that first night was to run away from something that happened in their life. They made it all the way to a rocky beach with no one but them and the water, and then all of a sudden, they hear the singing...and it's the most beautiful sound in the world. It immediately makes them feel better. And then of course, it came from one of the most beautiful beings they'd ever seen.

Sure they'd heard stories about sirens and their calls, and so they keep themselves safe in the shallows. However, they maybe thought that he kept coming to see them because...maybe there was something there. Anytime they were sad or stressed, they came to see him, and he made everything feel better. God, the way he smiled at them when they talked about their day. The way he asked questions to get to know them better.

That was all a lie? An elaborate manipulation? Just waiting for their guard to lower enough? How...horrible...

And so they stop going to see him. But they hate being away from the water when they're sad, so they head to different locations.

Only, there's several other sirens who have heard of rumors of the human who resisted the famous Lucifer's songs. If they managed to steal Lucifer's hunt...well, that appeals to more than a few.

They're in danger now, and they hardly even know it till they're in the thick of it.

And there's only one person who can help them.

Anon, this is so good. I can't take it.

[bupia]

Would very much like to see 2 and 31 of the smut prompts with Cardinal Copia - I would love to know what direction you take with it!

EROTIC PHOTOS

“I’ve never done this before…” - “Well, neither have I.” “I’m worried I won’t be good enough.”

There's a smut under the cut, +18 only, please.

(AFAB!reader: dirty talk; masturbation; mentions of masturbation)

It wasn't my intention to make a whole story, but I hope you all enjoy it.

Available on AO3

Day 10 | Day 12

You found yourself in a state of profound boredom. Wednesday was in full swing, but everyone around you was engrossed in their own duties, leaving you with nothing to occupy your time. It wasn't that you couldn't find something to do, but rather that you were consumed by a deep longing for him, Cardinal Copia.

The absence of Cardinal Copia at the ministry was disconcerting. It was a challenge not to see him wandering about or hear him call your name. Ever since he took the helm of Ghost, he had become increasingly hard to spend time with. There were moments when you'd call or text him, and you'd spend a few precious hours together until he drifted off to sleep. Poor Cardinal worked tirelessly, but there was little you could do to change that.

Today, however, your yearning for him was particularly strong. You craved him - his scent, his touch, his voice. Your situation with Cardinal Copia was unique. You'd decided to date, but before you could really embark on that relationship, a tour had emerged and created a chasm between you. So, in a way, you had him, yet you didn't. You could have had him, but the demands of the tour had created distance.

You longed to reach out to him, to send a message, to express how deeply you missed him, or just to say a simple "hi" perhaps, or send a silly joke that would make him laugh. But that wasn't what you desired from him today. As mentioned before, you wanted him, all of him.

You picked up your phone to check the time and, after a bit of mental math, you figured out what time it was where he was. It was likely getting close to his stage performance, but waiting until the show ended seemed unbearable. It might not have been the most tactful move, but you felt compelled to do it. You were already planning to take a shower and needed to get undressed, so it wasn't too much of a stretch.

So, you went ahead and did it. You took a few pictures, maybe two or three, and sent them to him. Perhaps he'd see them and understand how much you yearned for him, or maybe he'd be a bit annoyed at your attempt to tempt him before the show. Either way, it felt like a win-win situation.

You left your phone on the bedroom and headed into the bathroom for a relaxing, warm shower, hoping it would help quell your desires. However, your mind remained preoccupied with the thought of how he would react to the pictures you had sent. The bath, which was intended to be a way to unwind, became one of the quickest showers you'd ever taken. You were eager to see if he had replied and to find out what he thought.

After finishing your shower, you wrapped a towel around your body and returned to the bedroom, your anticipation growing by the second. You reached for your phone, only to be met with disappointment. There was no reply, no message, nothing. The initial shock of receiving no response was quickly replaced by embarrassment and regret. You shouldn't have sent those photos, especially considering the timing. Of course, he probably didn't have a moment to open them amidst his busy schedule.

As you contemplated deleting the pictures before he had a chance to see them, you noticed three dots appearing in the corner of the screen, indicating that he was typing a message. You watched them, and then they disappeared. A sigh of relief escaped your lips, but the anticipation returned when the dots reappeared. The ebb and flow of those three dots had you on edge.

And then, a message finally popped up.

"Amore, what are those?"

You read his message and felt a surge of nervousness. The uncertainty of his response had you second-guessing yourself. Did he not like the pictures? Had you made a mistake? These thoughts raced through your mind as you read his message. Summoning your courage, you decided to respond to his message. You knew you needed to say something, perhaps even offer an apology. So, you typed out your response.

"Sorry."

"What?" "Why are you apologizing?"

"I shouldn't have send the pictures..."

"What do you mean you shouldn't have sent them?"

"It was irresponsible."

"I agree."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you read his response, and you couldn't help but feel like you had indeed ruined everything. It was a moment of self-critique and regret.

"It was very irresponsible to make me hard before the ritual."

You read his message and your eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, thanks Satan" you thought. You read his message again just to be sure you weren't imagining things, and it was real. He had indeed said it, and you were relieved that you hadn't ruined everything as you had feared.

"Amore? Are you still there?"

The sudden vibration of your phone nearly made you drop it. It was clear you needed to respond, so you quickly typed out a message, not wanting to leave him hanging.

"Yes!!!" "I'm here!!!"

"Ok" "Good" "I thought I made you uncomfortable with my last message."

"What???? Not at all" "Actually, tell me more..."

A mischievous grin crept across your face as you lay down on the bed, pressing your legs together. The sensation of the cold from your still-wet body was soon to be replaced with warmth.

"More?" "What do you want to know?"

"Maybe you can tell me how hard your 🍆 is."

"My eggplant?"

"You don't know what it means?"

"I don't, amore" "I'm sorry."

"Eggplant means dick!!"

You saw the three dots reappearing, teasing you with their presence. As you rolled on the bed and settled on your stomach, a giggle escaped your lips. The anticipation and playfulness in the conversation were starting to lighten the mood.

"Maybe we can try use only words?" "I'm sorry, amore, I'm not used to this modern language."

Your laughter filled the room as you found his adorableness and occasional dorkiness endearing. It was difficult not to be amused and charmed by his quirks.

"Of course we can."

"Thank you"

"So..." "How hard your dick is, Cardinal?"

You were well aware of how much he enjoyed being addressed as "Cardinal." You imagined he might be feeling a delightful shiver down his spine at that moment, although you were equally sure he was probably cursing you in Italian, albeit playfully.

"You left my dick pretty hard."

"Yeah?" "Do I deserve to see it?"

"You do." "But, how do I do it?" "I'm worried I won't be good enough" "I've never done it before."

"Well, neither do I..." "But you got some pics of me" "You just need to take a pic and send it to me, ok?"

"Ok."

"So let me see how hard you are right now."

"I wish I could show you in reality."

"I know you are going to show it to me soon..." "Right?"

You settled comfortably on the bed, resting your head on the pillow as you awaited his response. Minutes ticked by with no sign of a reply. Just as you began to wonder if he was occupied with something else, the familiar three dots appeared on the screen, signaling that he was typing. The anticipation built once more.

"Amore?"

"Yes?"

"Can I send it?"

"Please."

You received his message, which included two identical, blurry pictures. The images were impossible to make out, but you could discern the red color of his cassock. Despite the lack of clarity, you couldn't help but laugh at the adorableness of the situation.

"Did it work?"

"No!!!" "I can't see a thing!!!"

"Is it that bad? Sorry, amore, I heard a noise and took it fast." "Wait."

As you continued to laugh and shake your head, you turned onto your side, gazing at the blurry pictures he had sent. Then, when you least expected it, a clear image popped up. This time, it wasn't blurry at all. It was a crisp picture of him holding his member in his hand. Your eyes widened in surprise at how big and thick it was. You could feel a heat building between your legs, you definitely needed him.

"Did you get it, amore?"

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the image. His member looked absolutely perfect. You rolled over once more, settling on your back as you continued to gaze at the image.

"Fuck" "I need you"

"Do you?"

"Yes" "Now"

"Amore..." "I wish I could be there now..." "I would be worshiping all your body." "Just like you deserve to be worshiped" "You naked body is perfect." "I need to touch you."

"I need you to touch me."

"I want to touch you."

"Yeah?" "Where do you want to touch me?"

"This is not fair." "You know I will be going on stage soon."

"We can stop if you want..."

"I don't."

Your hand reached for your towel, leaving it open on your body. You slowly spread your legs, going with your hand to between them. Your fingers began to rub your flesh, spreading them apart. You moaned softly as you felt your moisture begin to flow out of you, coating your hand.

"So tell me"

"I want to touch your body" "While I kiss it" "Every inch of it" "I want to make you feel loved" "Wanted" "Desired"

"Yeah?" "What more?"

"I will kiss your lips" "Your neck" "Your chest" "Your belly..." "Please, amore, let me see you again."

Of course, he could see you again. You tapped the camera icon, prepared to take another photo for him. But then it occurred to you that you could do better and decided to record a video of yourself instead. So you did. You removed your hand from between your legs and started to record it. You went with your hand slowly from your belly to your inner thighs, caressing it until you reach your mound. You went down with your hand going with it to between your legs. You gasped as you felt how wet you were and how easily your fingers slid between your folds.

You halted the recording and sent it to him, your heart racing as you patiently awaited his reply. Seeing the "received" status, you couldn't help but bite your lower lip in anticipation. After a few seconds, the familiar three dots appeared once more, and you couldn't help but smile in excitement, eager to see his response.

"Amore."

"Yes?"

"Are you touching yourself?"

"Maybe..."

"So do it" "Because I am" "I really need to fuck you right now"

As you read his message, a shiver ran down your spine, and an involuntary, soft gasp escaped your lips. The anticipation and desire were palpable.

"Say it again" "Please"

"I need to fuck you right now" "I need to feel you on my cock"

"I need you inside me, Copia" "I need you to fuck me" "Until I can't take it anymore" "But in reality" "I will never get enough"

"Fuck, amore" "What a sinful mouth you have" "It would look so beautiful here"

Another message popped up in the chat, this time containing a video of him. For someone who didn't know what to do some minutes ago, he was learning very fast.

You played the video and you could hear his low moans. He was lazily stroking his length on his gloved hand, and you could see a glistening on the leather. You continued rubbing yourself, feeling the softness of your folds. You looked down at your hand, seeing how wet it was. You brought your finger up to your mouth and sucked on it, imagining that he would do the same with you.

"Not fair!!"

"You didn't like it?"

"I loved it" "But is not fair to make me want you even more"

"I really want to be on your bed right now" "So I could taste you" "And fuck you until I make you scream my title."

"I'm very wet right now..." "Copia" "I need you so much" "I need to feel you inside of me."

"Do you, amore?" "Fuck" "You are driving me insane here" "I feel like I could cum only by reading your messages."

"Do you?"

"Yes" "Very much."

"So do it" "Cum for me"

"Will you cum for me too, amore?"

"Always."

You were in state of euphoria now, your whole being focused on your fingers. You moved one to your clit, rubbing it gently. The sensation made your hips buck slightly, and you let out another soft moan.

"Tell me what you are doing, amore."

"I'm just rubbing it."

"Fuck" "I wish I was the one doing it."

"You'll do it as you got back to the ministry."

"Yes" "And so much more..."

You could feel yourself getting more and more turned on. You could feel the heat building inside of you.

"Yeah? Tell me" "Please."

"I'm going to fuck you so good, amore" "Yes, so fucking good." "Fuck" "I need to feel your pussy on my 🍆"

Seeing the emoji, you couldn't help but burst into laughter. He was indeed an adorable dork, and he was all yours.

"Did I use it right, amore?"

"Perfectly."

"Good." "Because that's what I want now" "I want you to fuck yourself" "And think about my cock" "Inside you" "Fucking you" "So very good"

As you read his message, you started to rub faster, harder. You could hear your breathing getting heavier. You closed your eyes and pictured him, his hands on your body, his length buried within you. You opened your eyes, throwing your head back, moaning loudly. You turned your eyes to your phone, seeing new messages of him.

"Please, amore" "Let me fuck you" "Let me fuck you until you scream my name" "I need to fuck you so much" "Fuck this show" "I wish I could go to your bedroom right now" "And fuck you the whole night"

You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the moment. Your fingers covered in your juice. You lowered your hand to your entrance, sliding one finger into you. You moaned again, this time louder. You hips bucked slightly as you slit it in. You pulled out, then back in. You repeated this several times, each time going a little deeper.

"Yes" "Cardinal" "I'm doing it"

"Very good." "Don't stop" "Only when you cum for me"

You started to move faster, pushing your fingers in and out of your entrance. Your breathing became ragged as you let the sensations wash over you. Your hips were moving up and down, matching your thrusts. Feeling your orgasm starting to build, you quickened your pace. You took your phone, opening the camera and started to record it. Your walls were tightening around your fingers, pushing them deeper, feeling your walls squeezing them.

"Ah! Cardinal!" you moaned in pleasure. "Fuck me, just like that, please don't stop, make me cum on your cock!" you screamed out, feeling waves of pleasure roll through you. "Yes, just like that, just like tha-Ah!" you kept moving your fingers in and out of you, trying to prolong the feeling. "I'm going to cum, Copia, I'm going to... I... I..." your hips bucked wildly as you came, your body shuddering as you did.

You stopped the record, sending him the video. You kept your fingers buried inside you as your orgasm subsided, then pulled them out. You lay there for a moment, catching your breath. Then you felt your phone vibrating on your hand and you looked at it, seeing Copia's message.

"Fuck amore" "I need to hear you moaning my name when I get back to the ministry" "I want to make you cum on my cock just like that" "And even more" "So much more" "Fuck"

"Did you cum, Copia?"

"Not yet, amore."

"So cum for me, Copia" "Please" "Feel my pussy tightening around your big cock" "And cum inside of me" "Fill me with your seed" "Make me yours"

After sending your last message, you reached for your towel to clean your hands, realizing that you might need another bath before going to sleep. A few minutes passed, and Cardinal Copia had yet to send a reply. You settled on the bed, sitting up with your back against the headboard, your gaze fixed on your cellphone. Then, another photo arrived. This time, him holding his length on his hand full of his seed on his glove and on the tip of his member.

"Look what you did to me." "A mess, amore." "You did a mess."

"I'd gladly clean that mess for you."

"Amore, no more tempting." "I'll be on stage in ten."

"Wish you could come to the ministry in 10"

"I wish I could go to you too." "But don't worry." "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes" "How about you?"

"So much, amore." "But I need you more than I needed before." "Maybe I'll use your video at the hotel after the show."

"Why don't you call me? So we can play together."

"Are you sure? It will be late for you."

"So wake me up telling me how much you want me."

"I want you every hour of my day." "I think about you all the time."

"So call me just as you got to the hotel, maybe I can teach you how to do video calls."

"That sounds interesting." "Ok, amore" "I need to clean up and go." "Please wait for me." "I love you, Ti amo."

"Do your best there." "I love you, Copia."

[starsoftheeye]

i need sam and celia to work out.

i dont mean that in the "they both live happily ever after and both survive" no they can die if that is what the plot requires, i just need their relationship to be okay. no petty drama or miscommunications that do nothing for either characters or plot other than be interesting

obviously the whole "alice not being over her and sams relationship" makes for good samalicelia shipping fuel and character-wise it is an interesting view into both of their characters, but i will be genuinely upset if it turns into a boring "which one will sam choose" romantic side plot

i can handle arguments, i can handle the realism of trauma and difficult situations making it difficult to maintain healthy relationships. what i cant handle is throwing away potential for a cheap shock, like we've seen in so many love stories before. what i also dont want is an unrealistic narrative that prioritises a relationship over a story

tma done their relationships very well, where the love was real, and at times it improved characters mentalities and helped develop them as their own people, but no matter how much they loved one another, it didn't save the world, and it didn't change fate. jon and daisy turned into monsters, martin and basira had to kill the people they loved most, sasha disappeared, and tim lost his brother, then himself. their love was never world-saving, and whats done would be done by the end of the day, but their love was real, and thats what made it compelling

as a fan of the characters, of course i want them to have a happy ending, and for everything to work out for them in the end, but as a fan of the show? i want it to hurt. i want to be devastated by these characters whose love was enough to bandage the wound but not enough to heal it

[stvrpst]

Bummy shippers are some of the weakest links I've ever seen in a fandom😭 Imagine being a die-hard buddie shipper for years just to give up when the writers throw buck at yet another romance with little chemistry or buildup simply because Tommy is a guy.

I'm glad Buck can explore this side of himself, but that doesn't mean I'm going to settle with a lazy and inadequate excuse for LGBT representation. Have your opinions, but the writers could have handled Buck's storyline far better, and it's clear they're being lazy about it because Oliver has been so fucking silent about the entire relationship as a whole.

There is a difference between shipping gay couples and being borderline fetishistic. You're nasty if you're shipping only to see two men kiss and fuck, rather than for the important reasons, to see a beautiful queer story with chemistry, depth, and buildup between the two

Which I'm sure half of bummy shippers are guilty of. Because bummy literally has the same build and chemistry as all of Buck's previous relationships, if not less. The same relationships you were complaining about weeks ago.

I thought y’all said we needed to stop putting buck in relationships that lacked chemistry and build up?💀

Why is it okay now? Cuz Tommy’s a man? I hope y’all are aware of how stupid y’all’s asses sound.

Cuz to claim Tommy is complex, or even has an ounce of characterization is absolutely insane, and hypocritical. His only attributes is him being a racist misogynistic asshole, and a borderline boring ass character.

And news flash! just because people want to see a realistic, queer, slow burn romance that isn’t rushed or built off of envy and jealousy, doesn’t make them homophobic. It has nothing to do with homophobia, it’s about chemistry and depth, and the relationship as whole. I could give less of a fuck if tommy is a man.

People can have their opinions and it doesn’t mean they’re homophobic just because they clocked the fact that the rep media is pushing is repetitive and shitty. It just means people are not wiling to settle for just two guys kissing. We want more then that.

"Why can't we just enjoy this!" Because it’s people like you who make media feel comfortable enough to hurl poor excuses of LGBTQ representation at us.

you're a bunch of weak fucking links who fold at just a fraction of poorly written stories about a man kissing another man, rather than advocating for authentic, original, compelling, and well-written representation for us.

And then you have the nerve to whine about our poor media reputation. You are the reason why. They see you folding at a man kissing a man and decide to just throw it in our faces without putting in the effort, like "Here!" "Now shut up!"

Because you don’t pressure them enough to actually look into and understand genuine queer representation. Y’all drool and foam from the mouth at just the thought of two men kissing or fucking, and that’s what they give us.

It's obvious that the "rep" we got was shit, because if it was good, why is half the rep y’all think we got, just made up headcanons? Why do you have to pay $200 for someone to discuss it and provide headcanons? Why is Tommy's entire non-existent personality based on headcanons that are neither canon nor depicted in the show?

Why is the relationship in general on Twitter and here primarily made up of headcanons? I promise you, if the representation was really that good, you wouldn't have to pay $200. If Tommy had true complexity and characterization, you wouldn't need to create all of these headcanons because it would’ve been displayed on the show instead.

If the representation was that good, Lou wouldn’t have deluded y’all with all these headcanons. He wouldn’t need to, cuz it would’ve been shown on the show. But alas, we got jack fucking shit, and now y’all have to rely on headcanons to give this relationship some substance and legs to stand on.

Like this isn’t about ships, and whose better or whatever the fuck. This is about getting good representation in media. This is about getting beautiful, complex, queer stories, which Buddie already had the foundation for.

And instead of the writers taking the perfect opportunity to tell a beautiful story that could’ve been told between the two, the writers decided to throw in a random ass white man with zero characteristics or chemistry with Buck. That’s why people are upset.

“They’re just mad because it’s not their ship!” and they have every right to be mad that it’s not their ship, because unlike yours, their ship had all the key components and foundational build that the writers could’ve used to bring a beautiful queer story to life. But alas, they took the easy way out.

It’s a reasonable response.

I don't understand criticizing and mocking people because they're outraged that the writers fumbled an opportunity to show accurate representation in media. I do not understand how the responses to the writer's poorly written storyline is homophobic.

I really don’t.

Also, some of us are tired of seeing the same boring ass gay white couples over and over. That shit is repetitive. Some of us, who are POC or even just white, want to witness a beautiful interracial queer couple. It's not all about your queer, white ass. The world already revolves around you. Excuse us for wanting to see some interracial queer representation.

Pushing for greater queer POC representation is not homophobic.

Do you know what is homophobic and racist tho? Being actively opposed to having an openly queer Mexican lead character because the idea threatens your bland ass, white ass ship.

So you'd rather keep them straight, knowing that there are Mexican and Latino queer fans that identify with Eddie and see him as a comfort character. But let's rescind the representation they could get so that another white queer couple in the media can capture their attention.

[nokiatelava]

✿✿Leaving Me✿✿

Author's Note - Hi guys!! I'm kind of just planning on going along with the plot of ATWOW, obviously adding my own storyline here and there with Awpxey. But! I hope you guys enjoy the story!!

Summary - After finally being able to heal from your injuries, your parents break news to you and your siblings. You're moving away. Far, far away. Across the great ocean to a clan that calls the sea their home. You go to find Awpxey after your parents finalize their decision. Now Awpxey is choosing his own. Stay at the forests of Pandora, or move across the sea with you.

Warnings - i don't think there's anything significant?, trying to talk back, jake's mean for like a second, arguing, crying, cute bf & gf moments, kissing, admiring, swearing, moving, decisions, stress, grandma - granddaughter talk, advice

The last bit of swelling left your face over the last few weeks. Talking was a bit easier now and you could see clearer.

Just a few days ago you were able to go back to your family’s hut.

You don’t know what compelled your mind to make you think you would be staying there for long.

It was a supposedly “normal” day. You were used to the silence that sat around the hut, your family not talking to each other much.

You felt almost estranged, you were feeling so happy and energized now at the fact you were healed. But it was as if everyone got used to how it was while you were injured.

It was always silent.

It made your happy mood deteriorate. And in doing so, it ruined your happy thoughts. So it only left you feeling sad.

Just like everyone else.

But on this “normal” day. Something still felt off. The air felt stiffer then usual, it was something with your parents.

They had been off since the whole situation, but something told you, something else caused this.

It was around lunchtime when your mother called everyone to the table. Thinking nothing of it, you all sat in your usual seats, waiting.

After sitting in silence for sometime your father spoke up.

“We’re moving.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in question.

“What do you mean we’re moving? Like to a different hut or-” He cut you off.

“We are moving.” His voice became harsh. “Far away. We need to get out of here. We’re set to leave tomorrow. And I’m stepping down from Olo’eyktan.”

Your heart dropped, your mouth opening in disbelief.

Moving? Far away? Stepping down? What is going on?

“What?..” Your voice came out in a quiet whisper, tears building but you tried your best to blink them back.

Your mother put her head down, looking at her lap.

“Mama is he being serious?” You looked between your mother and your father. Trying to ignore the tears that left your siblings.

“I’m being serious Y/n. This isn’t some kind of joke.”

You didn’t want to believe him. You didn’t want to.

You shook your head, “we can’t just leave here.” You motion your hand to the hut.

“This is all we know! This is the only place we call home!” Your mother’s hand went up to her eyes.

“I know that Y/n, but there’s nothing we can do-”

“Yes there is! There is, you can’t just give up so quickly!”

“It is not safe here-”

“So fight back!” You stood leaning over the table.

“We can’t!” Your father mirrored your actions.

“We are not equipped enough, there is not enough of us. There’s no, “fighting back” we can do.”

You still shook your head.

“You’re Toruk Makto, gather the other clans! Do everything you did those 17 years ago and fight back!”

“It’s not the same! Do you even understand how many people we lost back then? Because of that War? Thousands of the people died fighting for their land!”

“Exactly! So the loyal Na’vis, and the ones who can participate can join and fight back! We’re not leaving here!”

“We are Y/n! And that’s final!”

You wanted to hit him.

Never in your life had you ever wanted to strike your father.

But you wanted to right now, and wanted to hit him hard. Knock him straight.

But you turned and left. Walking out the hut and ignoring the few calls of your name by your siblings and your father.

You wanted to escape. Wanted to be down in the forest and accept the comfort of The Great Mother and her creations.

But you couldn’t.

Those evil demon bastards are infiltrating your home and destroying the land around it.

They’re taking your home away. And because of that, you had to leave.

You don’t know where you were going, your feet walked you in whatever direction and you let them.

You didn’t feel as if you were living in your body. You felt so disconnected and far away, wishing for the comfort of somebody, the embrace of somebody.

When you found yourself at the entryway of a hut, you finally looked up.

You were at Awpxey’s kelku, and that made you crack a small smile. But it dropped as you remembered what you now have to tell him.

You were met with his back, he was facing the other way as he fiddled with something in his hands.

He was alone in the hut. And he must have felt your presence as he turned his head around.

His eyes lighting up as he saw you.

It all only made your heart hurt more.

He then realized your solemn expression and stood up, walking toward you slowly.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” You let out a sob as you ran into his chest, his warm skin only coaxing you to cry more into his chest.

“What’s wrong yawne? Talk to me, I’m right here, right here with you, okay?”

You couldn’t even stomach the fact you would have to tell him you’re leaving.

Where is that going to leave the two of you? Do you have to break up now as there is no way of communicating?

“A-Awpxey..” You cried, squeezing him closer to you as you hiccuped and sobbed.

“It’s okay Y/n, talk to me when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you.” All you could do was quickly nod into his chest, continuing to cry.

Once you felt that all the tears were somewhat out your system, you took a deep breath.

“I-I have to tell you something Awpxey.” Your chest stuttered as you felt your eyes cloud again, but you only rubbed the feeling away.

“Okay, you can tell me.” He nodded, running his hands through your hair.

“Come sit on the floor with me, right here okay?” You held his hand as you let him guide you to sit on the floor with him.

Your hands shook with a frenzied tremor, wiping your eyes you took another deep breath before looking into Awpxey’s eyes.

“I-I’m moving Awpxey.” You swallow as you try to breathe. “Really, really far away. A-and my dad is stepping down from being Olo’eyktan, and I don’t know what to do.”

You started to cry again, and only tucked your face into the crook of Awpxey’s shoulder.

“I don’t wanna leave.” You sobbed.

Awpxey rubbed your back as he was trying to process the information.

“I’m going with you.”

You froze, silence encompassing the hut, the only thing really being heard were your rough shallow breaths.

“What?” You sat up, looking straight at him.

“You’re doing what?” You blinked at him quizzically.

“I am going to go with you. I do not care if you don’t agree.” You opened your mouth shocked.

“Awpxey, what? N-no you can’t come, I can’t let you do that, no.” He has his family here, his parents, he can’t just leave them.

“Awpxey you can’t just leave, what about your parents? You’re not just gonna leave them are you?”

“I would. Just for you.” You gasped at his words.

“I love you Y/n, I love you so much. I See you. So I’m going to go with you.” He caressed your cheek.

“I want to mate with you one day, I can’t just leave you.” You leaned forward, kissing him as a way to express your love for him.

“But you haven’t even asked them yet Awpxey. What if they say no?”

“Knowing my parents? They’ll definitely say yes, they probably want me to move out anyway.” You stared at him, scared of how nonchalant he sounded.

“And what if they don’t want you to? What if they want you to stay here with them so they know you’re safe?”

Awpxey shook his head. “They are not like that Y/n, trust me.” You knew he was — somewhat — right. Itxä and Puo are two very understanding people. And always wish what is best for their son.

Which in their book, you are.

“They’ll definitely let me go with you. When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow. My dad didn’t say when, but knowing him.. It’s definitely in the morning.” You let out a broken chuckle, trying to revert your mind from the subject at hand.

Awpxey continued to rub your back. You felt his eyes on your face and could see him staring from your peripheral.

“What?” You said with a giggle as you turned towards him.

“Nothing.. Just looking at you.” He smiled as he continued to look.

“Why?” You asked, feeling a bit embarrassed by how lovingly he was looking at you.

“Because I love looking at you.” You felt a heat tread into your cheeks. “You know Y/n, I don’t think you take all the credit you get for your beauty.”

You tilted your head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“You are just so beautiful. And sometimes I feel like when people tell you that, you don’t believe them.” You chewed your lip, knowing that what Awpxey was saying was true.

“You’re very observant.” You nodded. “Got it from you.”

You smiled, “really?” You asked mockingly.

“Yeah, got it from that people watching you taught me.” You felt a bit shocked.

He actually started doing that because of you?

“You actually started doing it?” He nodded, “why wouldn’t I? It’s actually very fun, entertains if you will.”

You laughed, “you’re becoming a little mini me!” Awpxey joined you in your laughter, “I wouldn’t mind becoming that.” He shrugged with a smile.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other. Looking at each other’s features.

“How do you feel about little admirer, hm?” You smiled at the tease and pushed his nose with your finger.

You could hear his tail smack lightly on the floor behind him.

“When are your parents coming home? So you can ask them? I don’t wanna be here when you do.” He furrowed his eyebrows, “why?” You only shrugged.

“It’ll make me feel weird.” He nodded but brought up another point. “Where are you going to go then? I know you do not want to go home.”

You rolled your eyes. “Too observant.”

He smiled, pulling your cheek. “Learned from the best.”

Over the next few minutes, you spent some more time together.

“I’m going to go home.. I-I have to pack my things.” You felt reluctant, you didn’t want to leave the forest, or Awpxey at the moment either.

As you both stood, Awpxey held your hand. “I know this is hard for you Y/n. But always, always know that I’m going to be here for you.” You nodded, trying to sniffle your tears away.

“I’m going to be there with you forever because I’m going with you.” He whispered teasingly in your ear. You laughed as his breath tickled your ear. “Awpxey!”

“I know, I know. Now go, get ready so we’ll both be packed by morning.” You turned back to look at him. “You’re very confident that they’ll even let you go.” You looked worryingly.

He only smiled, “I know they’ll let me go, now go back little Ms. Sully.” You laughed at the name and waved goodbye, him doing the same.

“Wait, Y/n!” You hear Awpxey call your name from behind you, making you turn around.

“Yes Awpxey? What is it?” He’s approaching you in a small jog.

“Come here.”

Before you could even get a breath out, he had grabbed your face. Smashing his lips onto yours in slow kiss.

It caught you by shock at first, but you slowly relaxed into the kiss and closed your eyes.

When he pulled away, all he had was a smirk on his face as he had seen your purple cheeks.

“You didn’t give me a goodbye kiss.” You embarrassingly cover your face with your hand, trying to hide how hot your face had gotten.

“Awpxey!” You squeal, trying to hold in your laughter.

He grabbed a hold of your wrist, trying to pry your hand from your face.

“Let me see you!” He continued to tease you as he tried looking around your face.

“Awpxey, I have to go!” You giggled.

He let you go, still laughing. “Bye Y/n.” He placed a kiss on your cheek.

For some reason you froze. Your cheeks felt hotter again as you brushed your fingertips against the spot.

You smiled sheepishly, shyly leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Bye Awpxey..”

It was Awpxey’s turn to mirror everything you had just done.

You smiled at him before turning and leaving, the soft smile still stuck on your face.

While you walked home, you couldn’t feel nothing but dread as your hut came into view.

Eywa, how bad you didn’t wanna be here right now.

When you walked in, everyone glanced at you, but you paid no mind to that as the only thing that took your attention was your home.

What used to be your home, at least.

All you saw was the inside of your home, technically completely empty instead of all of the things that were yours that were left in place.

Every movement that was made echoed, and it made your heart slow.

You were actually leaving. Your parents are really making you leave home.

“Come on Y/n.. Pack your stuff.” You heard your father’s gruff voice behind you.

Tears clouded your vision, and you clenched your fists tightly as your breath picked up. The pain in your palms went unnoticed as your fingernails continued to dig into the skin of your palms.

But you decided not to act on your emotions.

So you took a deep breath and started to pick up your things.

Minute after minute, your chest ached more and more as you had to pick up all the memories of your home.

When you were finished, you had a good two bags full to the top full of all your items.

Tops and loincloths, jewelry, and trinkets. The bags held everything.

Everything you’ve ever known, ever loved.

“Where are we going to sleep? Since there’s obviously nothing in here, for us.” You knew you were being sour.

But you had every right to be.

Your life is being taken away from you. How are you specifically supposed to feel?

You felt this feeling of hate, towards your father.

What did he want you to do after telling you, you all had to move away? Prance around and dance?

You had a sneer on your face as you waited for his answer, tapping your foot on the floor, urging him to hurry up.

“We’re going to stay at your grandmother’s hut.” He sighed and you felt a pang of guilt run through you as you seen him pinch the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes shut as if to think.

“She’s being kind enough to let us stay there.. So let’s say thank you to grandma when we see her okay?” The small childish tone was obviously directed towards Tuk.

She was still too young to barely even comprehend what is happening right now.

She smiled up towards Jake, nodding excitedly.

“I love staying at Grandma’s house!” The words made your stomach hurt.

Does she even know this will be the last time she’s staying over there?

You decided to just step in. “You sure do, don’t you?” Grabbing her hand with a small smile and leading her out the hut. Trying your best to just get the night over with.

The rest of your siblings followed reluctantly, knowing what they have to do once the night is over.

Knowing they will never come back to their home.

It all felt unreal, it was unexpected, and it was too rushed. You felt as if the decision was rushed.

You wondered if your parents even really thought about what they were doing. You would have never thought that, that night in the forest would lead to this.

The last experience you had in your homeland was miserable. You were beaten to a pulp, the last thing you saw was the trees, and the beautiful night sky you loved.

You felt as if you never were actually even able to bask in the beauty of your home. You try to pull your mind of all the memories you have in the forest. But you’re barely pulling any, all you can think about is that night.

If this was planned earlier you felt like you maybe could have done something else. Do something else, be someone else.

You love it here. You want to stay here.

But you can’t.

Because now you’re moving away. Moving away to somewhere cold. You’re moving away to somewhere that you have to become a different person, act a different way, and practice different customs.

You didn’t want to do that. You didn’t want it to come to this.

All the things you could have done. Time was lost. There was too much lost time. You could have been running with the wind through the forest just yesterday, happy to be in the environment your Great Mother had created. Even with the knowledge you’d have to be leaving the very next morning.

Or if you hadn’t even went on that little outing. You could have been sitting in your hut, full of everything that it had before. Making bracelets with Kiri and Tuk.

So much lost time.

Before you even blinked, you were at your grandmother’s hut, walking inside. You don’t even remember walking over here.

This is not how you wanted your last night here to be.

In a blur, you were all setting up your sleeping mats. There was barely any small talk between everybody, small words being exchanged here and there.

You took a deep breath through your nose, trying to implant the smell of all the herbs deep in your lungs.

You loved the smell.

It was so nostalgic, a smell you always loved since you were a child coming to see your grandmother, Mo’at.

You loved her so much. You didn’t want to leave her. Your eyes watered for the umpteenth time that day as you thought about the fact you were leaving family behind.

Mo’at watched you keenly, studying you body movement, it’s language.

She knew you were angry, she can feel it coming from you. She felt it before you even arrived. And she didn’t want her granddaughter to have such hate in her heart.

She planned to talk to you when everyone fell asleep, which she knew would be soon.

A few minutes later, everyone was saying goodnight as the climbed into their mats. For about an hour, all that was heard was the shuffling from all of you tossing and turning.

Slowly, everybody around you fell asleep one by one. You sighed as you sat up, rubbing your eyes trying to produce some sort of feeling of on-coming slumber.

You gasped quietly when you looked up, only to see your grandmother sitting up, staring directly at you.

“Y/n.” She said expectantly, her small smile barely visible from the dark engulfing the room.

“Grandma.” You stated, your words floating in the air as they reached her.

“Hm.” She said, turning her head while her smile grew.

You are telling her everything she needs to know already.

“Come, come over here child.” Mo’at’s hand beckoned you to come closer as she got up and moved from her mat. Heading toward a small private area of her hut.

You stood quietly, stepping over the sleeping bodies of your siblings before silently standing before your grandmother.

She patted the spot next to her, “sit with me?” A small smile flashed on your face as you nodded, taking a seat next to her on the sitting mat padding the ground.

“What’s going on grandma? Why aren’t you sleeping?” She looked towards you, a look on her face.

“Why are you asking me questions I’m going to ask you?” She shrugged as she ignored what you had asked her. She chuckled, “what is going on with you Y/n? Though I already know what.”

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you looked at her questioningly.

“What do you mean Grandma?” She laughed silently again.

“Because you make it obvious. Your body, your eyes, your ears, your tail, your heart.” Your grandmother shook her head, “your soul is vulnerable, you are technically putting it on display.”

Not really knowing what to say, you only responded with a feeble, “sorry grandma..” That made her laugh quietly again.

“There’s no need to apologize for something such as that. You are sad right now Y/n, very sad.” Her hands came up to your head, threading her fingers through your hair softly.

You could only nod in agreement, not knowing the fact your feelings were so presentable.

"I know why you are sad Y/n." Mo'at whispered next to your head. A solemn look in her eyes as she continued to brush her fingers through your hair.

You gave a broken chuckle as the tears started to cloud your eyes once again. "What is making me sad grandma?" You asked sarcastically.

This made Mo’at frown, she felt a strong pity for not only you but herself too. She knew that as soon as all of you left, she would be and feel completely miserable.

But she couldn't act on her emotions because all she could do was hold it all together for the sake of the people.

What would the clan do if their Tsahìk was completely low with grief? Mo’at had — no has — a lot to grieve for, but she has no time to grieve.

No time to think.

She’s quick with what she has to do, always by herself — mostly not — with her thoughts.

She tries her hardest to not think about those days.

Those days in which everyone was a bit younger.

Those days when her whole family was still together.

“You’re leaving..” Mo’at whispered as her nimble fingers continued to brush your hair.

“And I know you’re very sad to leave. Leave here, your home.” She pursed her lips as she tried to fight her tears.

“Grandma.” You whispered out in a breath of realization. “I’m sorry grandma I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

You sat up straighter, placing your hand on her back before she chuckled. She pulled your hand off by your wrist.

She held your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckle as the tears fell from her eyes.

Yours following soon after.

“I remember when you had just made it into this world..” She smiled at the memory as she rubbed your knuckles.

“Your cries were piercing, very loud. But you never cried much.” She squeezed your fingers.

“You are still very quiet now Y/n. But promise me, when you leave here and you join this new clan. Promise me, you will use that same exact piercing voice when someone does you wrong.” She looked deep into your eyes to show the sincerity of her ask for promise.

You nodded, “I promise grandma. I promise I will, if they either do it to me or anyone else.” She smiled.

“Remember that boy you yelled at all those years ago? During your craft class?” You laughed quietly at the memory.

“Son’tuk?” You giggled as you thought of the boy.

“Mhm, that was the very first time you had used that strong voice of yours for defending yourself. You always stayed quiet to yourself. You still do now obviously.” She rolled her eyes.

“But before when you were younger it was.. Worse.” You grimaced as all the memories of your younger self came back.

“Everybody was so shocked. You had become so loud, I didn’t even expect it.” She laughed.

“What did you tell at him for again?” You curled your lip to a sneer.

“He was talking about me, Kiri, and Lo’ak. Specifically our hands. He was shit-talking right in front of me, to me! And I told him to stop multiple times and he didn’t.” You shrugged.

“Well, that day made history!” You both giggled.

For hours after that, you and your grandmother spoke about anything and everything.

After a bit, your eyes became heavy, that familiar pressure behind your eyes. You tried your hardest to fight it, because you knew this would be your last night here.

Your last night to enjoy these moments with your grandma.

You wanted to savor every single second, but the stress from the day and the continuous conversations started to make you feel exhausted.

“G-grandma..” You whispered before falling asleep against her, she laughed quietly. Looking down to your face and examining your soft but fierce features.

“Oh how I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you so much.” Mo’at whispered as her eyes watered. Her breath was shaky as she combed your hair with her fingers.

Leaning down she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll love you no matter where you go Y/n. You are forever my first grandchild.” Tears platted down onto her thighs, and she slowly wiped her eyes so they wouldn’t worsen.

Minutes later, Mo’at began to drift off and fell asleep also.

Hi!! So I’m going to continue this on in another story obviously!! But I wanted to start working in the other one right when this one finished so I can post them both like on the same day? Probably might not be smart, but regardless!! I didn’t want to do the whole nine yards of the Sully’s meeting the Metkayina, it would end up being wayyy to long. But I hope you all enjoyed the story!! Sorry if there are any spelling errors! Thank you so much for reading 🤍!

[damianbugs]

You need to tell us what you think of your favorite Bruce ships. Pls

i should preface by saying i usually prefer bruce (in my own works and others, including comics) to not be in a relationship at all because i can't think of a time he's like ever emotionally stable enough for that. like ever. THAT BEING SAID isn't that all the more reason to throw him into a ship? doomed tragic romance you will always be famous to me

and because i am insane, here are some comic recs to go with my fav bruce ships!!

>batcat

a classic favourite, batcat!!! i will admit i am not the biggest fan of their rebirth stories, and the whole wedding fiasco and most of what tom king wrote about them (and in general) was. not enjoyable. but pre crisis/golden age batcat? MY PARENTS. just. silver and bronze age batcat too. what a refreshing and entertaining couple. the thing that really makes them compelling is at the end of the day they have the same goal; protect the people of gotham. the ways they go about it can be different, and selina especially faces some serious mischaracterisation in order to make bruce look like the "hero" in the relationship, but at their core and simplest expression of love, they share the same dream, and they both know that. it's this selflessness that connects them deeply.

> "The Autobiography of Bruce Wayne" (Batman the Brave and the Bold #197) is, in my opinion, essential batcat reading. a very bittersweet story!

> for a more modern read, "Only Takes a Night" (Catwoman #32) is a delightful read about how hopelessly in love they are. bruce is such a devoted loser.

> ghostbat

every character needs that one irreparably damaging young adult tragic romance that changed their life forever and that is what ghostbat is. khoa is the perfect foil to bruce, in that ultimately, they are two ends of the same spectrum. fiercely stubborn and confident in their own moral code but in the opposite way. this ship is particularly fascinating because even now, the respect and love they have for each other years later is so deeply consuming that it is prevalent in how they interact now. i don't think bruce would have been the person he is without his relationship with khoa pre-batman, in both a good and bad ways. i also really love the hc that khoa is bruce's first heartbreak (refer to: the Snow and Gun incident).

> "Batman The Knight" is like ghostbat religious text. this is all you need. let it destroy you.

> batlantern

no long paragraph about this one because its my silly guilty pleasure. sometimes u need a ship in which they just don't get along except for the times they do. hal brings out such an irritating (said fondly) side to bruce and its even funnier because it works mutually. i think another really wonderful thing about this pairing is that they are really not so different from each other (nothing says romance than being consumed by your guilt and stubbornness), but they both think otherwise, so they knock heads while also begrudgingly respecting about one another in a colleague-friend-crush way. they want to make out so bad it makes them look stupid.

> "Batman: Universe" is a great and short silly story that shows their dynamic really well. amused me greatly. not ship focused though hal is there for like. a single issue unfortunately. but fun!!

> i usually never recommend any new 52 books to get INTO a character, but if you're interested in this pairing and its most 'popular' fanon interation, then "Jutice League (2011)" is the best place to start. you can get to their better stuff afterwards! (there's also an animated movie about it!)

> brutalia

AND BEST TILL LAST. THE BRUCE SHIP OF ALL TIME. ruined my life. CHANGED my life. i wish i could explain how insanely important this relationship is in words. i love my pairings tragic and there is quite literally no other ship quiet as dramatic or poetic than brutalia. talia is often seen as bruce's "one true love" with great reason, and him hers, and despite that they will probably never actually get back together. in a wider lense, the al ghuls and bruce have an insanely complicated dynamic, and this inherent conflict about missions bigger than themselves makes brutalia's forbidden love drama all the more compelling. talia brings out the best in bruce, and bruce respects and loves talia in a way i don't think he does anyone else in his life.

to complain for a moment, it's no wonder that because their relationship (since it's very first introduction) was so irrevocably pure and consensual (they were both so ridiculously obsessed with each other), that Certain Writers had to pull out the most out of character and disgusting stories to make it clear the tone of batman was changing. talia is always a victim to racism, misogyny and just unbelievable ooc writing — most evidently in her stories with bruce, unfortunately.

AND YET. recent comics have realised how truly ridiculous it is to write her as anything but kind and strong, and bruce being anything but hopelessly infatuated. i think my favourite thing about brutalia is that bruce and talia is a relationship that has been separated for actual Decades and so both their characters have been developed to have their own tragic stories and growth. then when we get small moments that bring them back together and letting that past show through the cracks in their carefully constructed walls, it's all the more romantic.

beautiful heartbreaking ship. the kind of relationship historians would cry over. would have the romantic period publishing fifteen books over.

> "Batman: Son of the Demon" is ESSENTIAL brutalia reading. also, if you are insane and delusional enough, it can be the true origin of damian.

> the comic moment that inspired all romance the moment of forever the blueprint even is in the famous "Batman (1940) #244"

> for a more modern take, very recently in fact, is her appearances in Ram V's run of detective comics, starting from #1062. its not brutalia focused, but a great take on how natural and yearning their relationship is now.

[a-queer-seminarian]

Today is Easter Sunday. Today is Trans Day of Visibility. Today is day 176 of genocide.

This year the lectionary gives us Mark's account of the Resurrection, with its fearful cliffhanger ending — an empty tomb, but Jesus's body missing. And isn't that unresolved note fitting?

In the face of so much suffering across the world, it feels right to be compelled to sit — even on this most jubilant of days — with the poor and disenfranchised in their continued suffering.

Mark's account:

Just days before, the women closest to Jesus witnessed him slowly suffocate to death on a Roman cross. Now, now trudge to his tomb to anoint his corpse — and find the stone rolled away, his body gone. A strange figure inside tells them that Jesus is has risen, and will reunite with them in Galilee.

They respond not with joy, but trembling ekstasis — a sense of being beside yourself, taken out of your own mind with shock. They flee.

The women keep what they've seen and heard to themselves — because their beloved friend outliving execution is just too good to be true. When does fortune ever favor those who languish under Empire's shadow?

Love wins, yet hate still holds us captive.

I'm grateful that Mark's resurrection story is the one many of us are hearing in church this year. His version emphasizes the "already but not yet" experience of God's liberation of which theologians write: Christians believe that in Christ's incarnation — his life, death, and resurrection — all of humanity, all of Creation is already redeemed... and yet, we still experience suffering. The Kin(g)dom is already incoming, but not yet fully manifested.

Like Mark's Gospel with its Easter joy overshadowed by ongoing fear, Trans Day of Visibility is fraught with the tension of, on the one hand, needing to be seen, to be known, to move society from awareness into acceptance into celebration; and, on the other hand, grappling with the increased violence and bigotry that a larger spotlight brings.

The trans community intimately understands the intermingling of life and death, joy and pain.

When we manage to roll back the stones on our tombs of silence and shame, self-loathing and social death, and stride boldly into new, transforming and transformative life — into trans joy! — death still stalks us.

We are blessedly, audaciously free — and we are in constant danger. There are many who would shove us back into our tombs.

And of course, the trans community is by no means alone in experiencing the not-yet-ness of God's Kin(g)dom.

Empire's violence continues to overshadow God's liberation.

The women who came to tend to their beloved dead initially experienced the loss of his body as one more indignity heaped upon them by Empire. Was his torture, their terror, not enough, that even their grief must be trampled upon, his corpse stolen away from them?

The people of Gaza are undergoing such horrors now. Indignity is heaped on indignity as they are bombed, assaulted, terrorized, starved, mocked. They are not given a moment's rest to tend to their dead. They are not permitted to celebrate Easter's joy as they deserve. They are forced to break their Ramadan fasts with little more than grass.

Those of us who reside in the imperial core — as I do as a white Christian in the United States — must not look away from the violence our leaders are funding, enabling, justifying.

We must not celebrate God's all-encompassing redemption without also bearing witness to the ways that liberation is not yet experienced by so many across the world.

This Easter, I pray for a free Palestine. I pray for an end to Western Empire, the severing of all its toxic tendrils holding the whole earth in a death grip.

I pray that faith communities will commit and recommit themselves to helping roll the stones of hate and fear away — and to eroding those stones into nothing, so they cannot be used to crush us once we've stepped into new life.

I pray for joy so vibrant it washes fear away, disintegrates all hatred into awe.

In the meantime, I pray for the energy and courage to bear witness to suffering; for the wisdom for each of us to discern our part in easing pain; for God's Spirit to reveal Xirself to and among the world's despised, over and over — till God's Kin(g)dom comes in full at last.

"The Empty Tomb" by artist He Qi.

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening Reimagined: Pt. 5 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/ Vampire Austin! Elvis x reader)

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Elvis is fighting his need for blood, making him weaker by the day. Then you walk into his life, making you the perfect target for his next meal. But an unknown force is making this more difficult than he expected... [Elvis' Perspective]

TW: Cussing, mentions of blood, angst, thigh riding

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Hello everyone! Hope you enjoy this part as much as I do! I had this scenario in my head for a while and didn't know where to place it and finally made it work. I'm sure you all have noticed... but Elvis has very long legs... and his thighs are quite nice and strong... So my mind went places when I was watching TTWII a while ago and yea the rest of my thoughts are in here🫣 Anyway, please enjoy this next part!

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3! Hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

🩸

You were stubborn, he should have known. You wouldn’t come over without a fight. He thought it would be better if he didn’t surprise you and arrived at your apartment unannounced. But he was starting to think he had to do just that. 

He needed to get more blood for himself because he was too scared of losing control around you again. It wasn’t as fulfilling as he wanted it to be but it did make his thirst at least tolerable. 

He still needed answers about why you couldn’t be compelled. Or why he was so attracted to your blood… or more importantly, why he was so attracted to you. 

As he waited to hear if you would come over, he decided to try to look for answers in the books he had thrown around the penthouse. There were so many vampire legends to sift through. These books were written by people who experienced these occurrences firsthand and decided to write them down to help other vampires. 

Elvis turned to these books a lot throughout the years. He knew nothing of what it meant to be a vampire. The man who bit him, Raphael, basically left him for dead and didn’t tell him what he did to him. He just woke up with an intense desire for food but soon discovered it wasn’t food he craved; it was blood. 

He decided to start from the beginning, from the first vampire that ever existed. It was in Greece and the man was cursed to never see his love, only at night. Artemis gave him great hunting abilities, strength of the gods, and sharp fangs to drain the blood from beasts to write letters to his love. He was forbidden to touch her or even kiss her. While she lay there dying, he begged Artemis to make his love immortal. She agreed and let him touch her to drink her blood. This would kill her mortal body but from then on, her blood mixed with his would create immortal life for anyone who drank it. 

The story was incredible to him and made him envy that kind of love. He wanted someone to selflessly love and care for. He had read that story many times before but he just always thought it was too long ago for it to happen to him. He had met other vampires that were in love with each other but they were both turned when they met each other. They never knew each other when one of them was human. That’s what makes him so frustrated with this whole situation. 

He had to constantly remind himself you were human. It would never work. You were too fragile, too incompatible with him. Well, he knew that was a blatant lie. You two had enough attraction to make the world spin. You being human just wouldn’t work in the long term. He’d end up hurting you or worse. He was too fearful that his need for blood would end up making you despise him. The only way it would work was if he turned you. 

No! You’ve gone absolutely mad! He scolds himself. 

He had never had such a selfish thought. He couldn’t turn you just because he wanted you with him forever. That would be the worst thing he’s ever done. He’s given the choice to anyone he’s bit and made them seriously think about what it meant to be a vampire. He was never given that opportunity to contemplate what his decision might do to his life.

He felt a bit cheated that way. He was delirious and weak when Raphael bit him. He just remembers the excruciating pain of when his fangs tore into his skin. It felt like branding irons getting plunged into his skin. His bite was vicious and cruel. He had no mercy for Elvis and took his mortal life away without giving him a chance to think about what he was giving up. 

He swore to never be like that. He wanted to give the person a chance to think about this life-altering decision. Especially for you. You needed to make the decision if you wanted to be with Elvis like that. He wasn’t sure if your feelings were the same as he felt for you. That’s why he needed to talk to you. He needed to see if you felt the same or if he was too disillusioned by this all and needed to come to terms that you could never be his. 

He continues to sift through book after book, not getting a clear understanding of what he is going through. He read for hours and was about to give up for the night until he picked up the last book in the pile, making him stop in his tracks. 

There were a few instances where a vampire couldn’t compel a human. It was almost unheard of but there were instances of a vampire being so attracted to a human, they were all they could think about. Their blood almost called to them, luring them in to feed off of them. Elvis knew exactly how that felt. That’s how it was to be in the same room as you. This overwhelming need to be next to you or to be feeding on you. 

The text further explains that it was difficult to feed though, these kinds of vampires couldn’t compel them to feel any pain or have them forget about the bite. In this particular case, the vampire went to seek help from the oldest vampire he knew in the area. He asked how it could be possible to not compel a human and to be so astronomically attracted to them. 

The older vampire was shocked but understood what was happening. It was fate. Like the very first vampires on this earth, they were meant for each other. Bound to each other by the gods and by their blood. A soulmate. A chosen. 

Elvis drops the book on the table. No, it can’t be, this is a legend. These kinds of things don’t happen anymore. He had never met anyone like this. Granted, he had only been like this for little over a decade but still, no one uttered a word of something like this. The chances of this happening to him felt like lightning striking in a bottle. 

He had to breathe and think about this rationally. He needed to see you as soon as possible. He needed to know if these feelings he had were under false pretenses or if it was something more. Was it actually fate? Did something like that actually exist? Were you made for him and only him? 

He glances at the clock and sees it well past 2 am. This couldn’t wait though, he needed to see you now. He quickly gets dressed and rushes to the ground floor of the hotel. He gets in his car and speeds to your apartment. It would have been quicker if he ran but he thought this would be easier to get you in and back to the hotel. 

He pulls up to your building and turns the ignition off. It was very quiet over here compared to the liveliness of the strip. He walks up the stairs and straightens out his jacket, he wants to look as good as possible for you. 

He listens for you, seeing if you’re alone or not. You were and he breathed a sigh of relief. You were still up, sifting through a book it sounded like. At least you wouldn’t be woken up in the middle of the night by his visit. He grew nervous but he had to do this, he had to talk to you. 

He knocks on the door gently, not too harshly to frighten you. He hears your heart beat a bit faster, intrigued by who might be at the door at this time of night. He backs up from the door, wanting to give you as much space as possible to not startle you. 

You slowly walk to the door and the sound of the door unlocking makes Elvis hold his breath. He was afraid you’d slam the door in his face once you saw him. The door cracks open and you peek through the crack to see who it might be. Your heart stuttered when you saw him. You stood there frozen and looked at him shocked. 

“Hi honey,” he says low. The sound of his voice makes your heart beat louder, which he loved. 

You open the door a bit wider, “What are you doing here? How did you know where I lived?” You tremble. 

“I needed to talk to you, that’s all,” he explains, taking a few steps forward.

“I know, your men tried to get me to come with them to see you. You must have been crazy if you thought I was going to get in a car full of vampires,” you hiss.

He winces at your accusation. Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Well, I’m here now. I just want to talk to you,” he sighs. “May I come in?” He places his hand on the door frame, stretching his arm above his head. 

You huff, “Do you have to be invited in, is that how it works?” You say as you roll your eyes. You were testing his patience. He didn’t want to play any more games with you. He was here to talk to you and figure things out. His hand squeezes frustratedly on the doorframe, making the wood make a cracking sound. You freeze and look up at him nervously. He presses his lips together and takes a deep breath to recollect himself.

“No, I don’t need to be invited in. But I’m trying to be better and not be so forceful with you” He growls. You shake your head at him and your eyes lower.

“You can come in,” you say softly, as you open the door wider for him. 

He steps inside and he still smells that other man’s scent in here. He wasn’t here that long ago and his scent was stronger than last time he was in the apartment. It pissed him off but he had to hide the fact he was in here before and act like it didn’t bother him.

He stands in the living room, inspecting you as the door closes behind you and you turn the lock. You turn to face him and your entire body language is closed off. He could tell you were still nervous but you tried to fight it. You look at him a bit closer, furrowing your brow when you do.

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask bluntly.

He’s taken back, not understanding your harsh tone.

“What are you talking about?” He says gently.

“You look… sick… your eyes are so dark and there are hallows in your face,” you say a bit wary.

He hardly ever bothered to look at himself in the mirror. He hated his reflection for years now. He always knew he’d see that monster staring back at him. And the last week without you, he knew he’d look the same. A sad, weak, pathetic excuse for a man.

“Yeah, well… I haven’t been feeding so…” he says 

“Oh.”

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay. I saw you at my show,” he says slyly. 

Your cheeks flush and you look away from him. 

“Yes I was there with a friend that wanted to see you,” you say flatly. 

“And you didn’t want to see me?” He asks smartly. 

“No, not really. I’ve seen you enough times to last me a lifetime,” you snap.

Thumpthumpthump thump…

You were lying right to his face. He couldn’t help but find it amusing. 

“You’re lying,” he growls. 

You stand there frozen, knowing he’s right. 

“I-I don’t know-,” you stammer.

“I hear your heart pounding away when you’re fucking lying to me,” he seethes.

You stay quiet, nerves shooting through you. 

“You just make me nervous. I can’t think straight,” you mumble.

“You have no idea how much worse it is for me just being around you,” he hisses.

A silence forms between you two and he tries his best to calm himself down. He didn’t want to scare you off again. He had to reign in on his emotions the best he could.

“Who lives here?” he asks you.

“How can you?…” you ask confused.

“It reeks like a man in here,” he says through his teeth.

You straighten out your posture and walk closer to him, crossing your arms when you step in front of him.

“My fiancé lives here, why do you care?” You snap.

“Because I don’t like you being with another man,” he snaps. He freezes when he registers the words that just came out of his lips. It was so uncalled for. He didn’t expect himself to say something like that out loud.

“You don’t have the right to say such things to me!” You yell, “You don’t know anything about me!”

“I don’t care, I don’t like it. He can’t take care of you the way I can,” he fumed.

Your face was in shock, you couldn’t believe the things he was saying to you. He couldn’t either in all honesty. He was telling the truth though. The very idea of another man near you made his blood boil. You remain quiet, looking at him with disgust.

He knew it was pointless, but he needed to try anyway. He wanted to try to compel you. Maybe his strength was strong enough to make you forget everything that’s happened. 

“Sit down,” he commands, pointing to the couch behind you.

You look at him with shock, his blunt tone clearly upsetting you. 

“What? Why are you talking to me like this!?” You rasped.

Elvis audibly grunts with frustration, hating that he can’t do the one simple thing of compelling a human to forget about his existence. He was so weak for your blood that he couldn’t function properly!

“Can you please not be difficult and just listen to me!” He snarls.

“No, I don’t have to do anything for you!” You hiss. 

That was it for him. He needed to put you in your place.

His patience ran dry and was tired of your attitude.

He picks you up and quickly sits you down on the couch. You gasped at how quickly he moved and how tight his hands were on your arms. Your eyes bored into him and you tried to wiggle out of his grasp to no avail.

“That’s enough,” he growls. “I need you to listen and answer me,” he scowled.

You take a deep breath before you speak and stare into his dark eyes. He petrified you but he sucked you in regardless of what your instincts told you to do when you were around him.

Run as fast as you can...

You don’t though, something was keeping you there with him.

“I need your honest answer. You know I can tell when you’re lying,” he says as he glances at your chest. You hold your breath and nod your head at him. The grip he has on your arms doesn’t let up and your skin melts into his so effortlessly. He needed to focus and get back to why he was here in the first place.

“What did you want to know?” You ask low.

“Do you have feelings for me? Are you, attracted to me even if your instincts tell you not to be?” He asks you.

Your face looks a bit shocked and you can’t form the proper words right away.

“No,” you say quietly.

THUMPTHUMP THUMP THUMP…

He growls when he hears that loud, tempting sound come from your chest.

“I told you not to lie,” he says through his teeth.

You take a shaky breath when you hear his tone and see he’s not playing games. You still try to wiggle out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you move. Your eyes well with tears and you struggle to breathe normally.

“Yes… yes, I do feel something for you. I don’t know what it is but I-, I can’t help it. Everything tells me to run when I’m near you but you’re like a magnet. You pull me in every single time without even trying. It's so frustrating! You are probably the most lethal creature on this earth and there is nothing I want more than to be near you. It’s stupid and reckless of me,” you stammer.  

He stares at you intensely, feeling the same way for you.

“And I can’t fathom what I did with you. I can’t believe I begged for you! You’re a vampire, a soulless creature and I’m a human! We should have never done that,” you scold.

“But we did and it only made us more inseparable,” he says low.

“I can’t be with you Elvis, it would never work. We're not meant to be together,” you tell him.

He hated that prospect. Living away from you has been torturous enough this week. He needed to be near you, protecting you everywhere you go. He had to be the one to take care of you in every way you needed.

“It can, I think it can,” he tells you.

“How?! You have said it yourself you can barely be around me without wanting to suck me dry,” you hiss.

“I want you,” he growls.

“No, you don’t! You want my blood and that’s it!” You scream at him.

He hit his boiling point again, he couldn’t hold back any of his feelings. He stands up and turns away from you.

“You have no idea what it’s like for me,” he snarls, slowly turning back around to face you.

“Since you have walked through my door, you have been the only thing on my mind. I can’t go on with my day without feeling empty inside and the only thing I want to make me whole is you,” he confesses.

You sit there stunned, not expecting him to be so blunt about his feelings. He can tell you’re trying to make sense of all of this but you can’t. You’re from different worlds and don’t belong in each other’s.

“You can’t-… you can’t have me, Elvis. I can’t be in your world, you don’t need me,” you say insecurely.

“You can if you want to be. That’s all I want,” he admits.

“And until you get bored of me and find someone else, you’ll see that this was all for nothing,” you say frustratedly.

He walks back to the couch and sits next to you, legs touching, making you both sigh heavily.

“I will never get bored of you. That’s the thing, there is no one like you,” he says as he eyes you up and down. He grabs ahold of your hand and your whole body freezes at his touch. He rubs small circles on the back of your hand and he can feel you melt by the way he’s touching you.

“Honey, you have no idea how I crave you. In every single facet. There has not been a day that has gone by where I don't miss your very presence. I miss the sound of you breathing and the way you say my name,” he breathed.

“Elvis please,” you say shaking your head, your cheeks burning.

“Mhmm, like that… that’s just music to my ears,” he hums. “I crave other things too… like you naked in my bed,” he coos. He watches you bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to show him how much you liked that too.

Your heartbeat rose and fluttered away as he spoke.

“I’ve missed having you there. The way we fit together perfectly… that’s just something I can’t get out of my mind,” he sighs, leaning a bit closer to you. You take a shaky breath and can’t look at him. If you looked at him you might just be done for. He puts his hand through your hair and rests at the base of your neck, making you look back at him. "I can't get enough of you. Just the sound of you moaning when I'm deep inside you makes me hard if I think about it for too long," he says low, leaning in to place a kiss on your neck. You gasp and squeeze onto his thigh.

“You miss me too, don’t you?” He says softly, licking his lips when he looks back at you.

You looked at him drunk, fighting everything he was saying but he could see right through it.

“Yes, I miss all of that. All of you,” you whimper as you squeeze your hand tighter on his leg.

“There might be a reason why this is happening… why we feel so strongly toward each other. The way I can’t compel you…the powerful attraction I have for you… it’s because of something stronger than us… it might be fate pulling us in,” he says.

“What?” You say shocked.

“There’s legends of this kind of thing happening to vampires before. The way they couldn’t compel them, the way the attraction they felt for them the first time they ever saw them. How their blood called to them like a siren. Their blood is the only thing they ever want to drink to keep them satisfied… that’s what I’m dealing with. I crave only your blood. I’ve tried to drink other’s blood while you've been away and it’s never enough.” 

“I think that’s what has been wrong with me the whole time, why I can never control my thirst or get enough. It's because I needed you. You are the only one who can satisfy me. You are my missing piece,” he coos. He wanted to kiss you, he wanted to feel those soft lips crash into his and feel on cloud nine.

“Elvis… it can’t be,” you say in a daze, “these things just don’t happen. I’m human, I will die one day and you’ll walk this earth sad and miserable again,” you try to reason.

“It won’t be that way because… I’ll have to turn you one day. I don’t think I can live without you,” he confesses. 

You get up from the couch to get away from him, too shocked over this revelation. He feared this is how you would react. It wasn’t easy to hear. He was telling you your whole life has changed just because you walked into his penthouse. 

“No! No, I can’t become like you! I can’t do that!” You say petrified.

“I’m not asking you to want to be changed now. I’m not evil like that. I’ll still give you the choice of when you want to be bitten,” he says gently.

“Never! I never want to become like you! Fate or not, I can’t be yours,” you say exasperated.

Thump thump thump…

He flashes his eyes at you and smirks. That wasn’t completely truthful. Despite your fear, something enticed you and your fluttering heart gave it away. He gets up slowly, making you back up against the wall with apprehension. He stands in front of you, placing one of his hands above your head on the wall, and looks at you hungrily.

“I know this isn’t easy… but you like the idea of being mine, don’t you?” He purred. 

You swallow harshly and look up at him weakly. Your breathing hitches and you can’t get the words out you want to say. Elvis takes a step closer to you, the magnet that attracted you two together was pulling him in. 

“Tell me,” he whispers. 

You look away from him, not wanting to give him that satisfaction of hearing such things from your lips. He carefully puts his hands around your waist and squeezes you softly. He feels your body stiffen and then relax because of his touch.

“Please tell me,” he asks again.

You continue to stay silent, not budging. He takes one more step closer to you and the top of his thigh is in-between your legs. His thigh pushes up against your core and you gasp when you feel him touching you. You look back at him in a bit of shock, unable to hide that you like his body on yours a bit too much. He wants the truth out of you. He needed to know he wasn’t crazy and you were feeling the same way he was. 

“Why do you want to fight me, honey? You know I’ll give you anything you ever wanted,” he coos, gently pushing his thigh against your core more. You sigh at him and look down at where his leg is. His hands are still on your hips and he starts to gently rock your hips against his thigh, making your core grind on him. You let out a deep groan and look back at him in shock.

“Goddamn it, Elvis please,” you bleated.

He smirks at you and your whiney tone, “What is it, honey?” He asks innocently, moving your hips some more. You grab onto his shirt and ball it in your fist.

“You make me weak,” you groan.

“I know, I feel the same way. I can’t say no to you,” he breathed.

You try to pull him closer and he suddenly feels your hips move on their own, loving the friction against your core.

He keeps his hands on your hips, guiding you as you continue to groan with how good this feels.

“Do you want me? Do you want to be mine?” He asks you again.

You softly whine and look at him helplessly. You gasp every time he grinds you onto his thigh more. You let your head lean back against the wall and look up at him with heavy eyes. He couldn’t get enough of how you looked when you were turned on. He felt his cock get hard just watching you get off on him.

“Come on baby, say it,” he begs you. You press your lips together and hold back the whiney moan that forms in your throat.

“I-I can’t,” you stammer.

“You know you want to. You like the very idea of it. I heard how excited you got,” he says as he puts his hand on your chest. The loud patter of your heart beats against his hand and makes him hum contently. 

“And look at yourself, grinding on me trying to get off. I know you want me. I just want to hear it,” he teases. Your hips roll onto him with his tempting words and you cry out frustratedly.

“Yes I want you,” you whine, “I want you so much, it kills me. I shouldn’t want you this much but I do. I want you all the time. I want to be yours,” you professed.

He sighs delighted, loving the words that just left your lips. He leans in and kisses you passionately, groaning when he feels your eager lips meet his. You both were a mess, grabbing and holding onto each other for dear life. You run your hands through his soft hair and try to pull him in as close as possible. You moan into his mouth as he moves your hips more, trying to get you to finish. 

You break the kiss and moan his name, breathless and needy. He watches as your eyes flutter and your brow furrow together as your body tenses on him. 

“That’s it, baby, let me see you cum,” he coos. You groan and hold onto him tight, letting your orgasm rip through you. You cuss his name and pant for breath. He loved watching you like this. You looked so sexy and perfect in every way.

He lets you calm down a bit before going to kiss you again. There was something about the way you kissed him this time that made him feel aflame. Like you were truly meant to fulfill him. He takes his leg away from your core and pins you to the wall with his body. You instantly groan when you feel his hard length pressing into you. He ravages you with his kisses, starting from your lips, then your cheeks, to your neck, and down to your breasts. God, he missed doing this to you. He wanted to cover every inch of your body with his kisses and lick his favorite part of you. His hands roamed your clothed body and wanted so badly to feel your warm skin on his.

He briefly pauses and picks you up, carrying you to the bedroom. He doesn’t stop kissing you until he sets you down on the edge of the bed. He goes to close the door and lock it, starting to unbutton the shirt off of himself. You look at him apprehensively, not sure what he was going to do with you.

“What baby?” He asks innocently.

“What are you going to do with me?” You ask as your eyes trail down his body.

“Oh me? I’m not going to do anything. You, however, are going to ride me until the sun comes up. How does that sound?” He says peeling his shirt off of his body and standing back in front of you, giving your forehead a kiss.

You take a sharp breath in when you feel his lips on you again and stare at him in complete shock at his request. 

“I umm… it’ll be hours before the sun comes up,” you quavered, your fingertips brushing along his chest.

“Good thing I never get tired,” he says deviously.

🩸

*

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Tagging:

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy_

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog.

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos

[textfromthelookout]

if you have the time, I wanna know what makes vegeta so compelling to you, whole ass character arc stuff and what not. I wanna hear you go off on your short king.

Anon do you understand what you’ve unleashed? I don’t think you understand what you’ve unleashed. Or if you do understand, I can almost guarantee you aren’t prepared. This is almost 3000 words of me frothing at the mouth. I hope you know you asked for this. Like the reason I was so late answering was because I wanted to do it justice and could not figure out what I wanted to yell about first.

I guess to understand why Vegeta’s development is so fucking staggering to me, you have to understand who he starts as when you meet him.

Vegeta is around 4 or 5 when Freeza destroys Vegetasei. He’s roughly 30 when he comes to Earth for immortality. In between are two and a half decades of being taken from, which he suffers only because he believes wholeheartedly that he will grow strong enough to kill Freeza and take it all back from him. He lands on Earth with little to his name beyond his pride in who and what he is, and power that, while paltry compared to Freeza and the people in his inner circle, surpassed and still surpasses every member of his race.

Right?

One of the biggest things about Vegeta in Z is that there is A Way Things Are Supposed To Go and when they go any other way, he cannot let it go. Losing to anybody other than the people he has known for years can kill him is unacceptable. Even more so if it’s to another Saiyan. Even more so when this Saiyan is such a disgrace to the blood in his veins. The loss is an impossibility and has to be rectified. Vegeta limps off of Earth with two big driving forces now: kill Freeza for vengeance, kill Kakarot to mend his pride (or at least beat him so far into the ground that his superiority is unquestionable).

Namek is where Vegeta gets really interesting. He’s fresh off a stinging defeat that put a couple cracks into his sense of certainty and self. He knows a way to get what he wants (the Dragon Balls on Namek). He’s in a race against the powers that be for it. He has something of an ace in the hole in that he worked out how to sense ki while he was flying half dead through space, so he’s no longer forced to rely on a scouter—on Freeza’s technology. He intends to make a clean break, and for a while it goes according to plan. Zarbon’s a stumbling block, but he makes it work in his favor, takes all the Dragon Balls Freeza collected and escapes with his life to boot.

And then another repeating theme surrounding Vegeta in Z comes into play. He’ll be a hairsbreadth from getting everything he wants before it all comes crashing down around him, largely due to things entirely outside his control. He couldn’t have used the Dragon Balls even if he had decided to press Gohan on what he was doing in the middle of nowhere with a ‘watch’, because he doesn’t have a password. The Ginyu Force thrashes him, Goku shows up stronger than ever. It’s fine though, because now he knows how to get the Dragon Balls to work, so he’ll never suffer defeat again—it’s a moot point.

…Right?

I think that the point in the story where Vegeta well and truly starts to come unraveled as a person is pretty immediately after Porunga dies and Freeza starts cycling through his transformations. Because like, rudimentary or no, Vegeta’s ki-sensing ability still works. He’s suddenly faced with irrefutable proof, that he can feel in the entire essence of his being, that his power is nothing to Freeza. And he lies to himself, because he can’t accept that he’s outclassed by the magnitude he is. Because this isn’t The Way Things Are Supposed To Go. He’s supposed to avenge his people and embody the legend. He refuses to bend, and so, he breaks.

And it’s sad, y’know? The way he just… stops fighting. For his whole life, he sweats and bleeds and swallows his bruised pride for the sake of survival and hope and what does it get him? I think all the goddamn time about the anime’s interpretation of this, where Vegeta being broken for Piccolo/Gohan/Krillin to witness up close is a deliberate choice on Freeza’s part*. In fact, I may never stop thinking about it. It’s not enough that Vegeta loses his will to fight, he has to know that others know that he gave up, that he can’t do anything against this monster even if he hadn’t. It’s a stunningly cruel blow precisely because he’s so proud and strong.

The man who dies on Namek crying at the feet of both of his bitterest enemies, begging one of them to kill the other for the sake of their race—who in that final moment lets his helpless frustration, his grief, his pride in his people supersede his own personal pride as warrior and prince—is not the same man who fought Goku on Earth. That man is in pieces, and Vegeta will spend every moment for years afterward trying to put him back together with saltwater and desperation. We meme on how death means basically nothing in Dragon Ball, but I go nuts thinking about how, intentionally or not, Toriyama managed to twist that to work with Vegeta’s development.

Because now Vegeta has to reckon with his many abject failures for longer than the few minutes before sweet oblivion, you see. Now it all matters again. As long as he’s alive, he’s still being taken from.

(Bulma’s one of the few—if not the only—person to simply give him something without coercion, or prompting, or obligation. Certainly the first we see. She had every reason to tell him to fuck off, really. She didn’t have to offer him a place to stay.)

Vegeta has a transitive hierarchical logic on strength, which comes up again towards the end of Cell that I’ll touch on when we get there, but for now it will suffice to say that in order to keep moving forward, he has to readjust his purpose in life to focus solely on beating Goku. If he beats Goku, then he beats Freeza, since Goku beat Freeza. Step one, obviously, is attaining Super Saiyan. And he’s so fucking committed to that that he unwittingly locks himself out of it, up until he leaves partway through the three year gap before the androids.

I could write another entire essay on how Super Saiyan can be read as a trauma response and how it differs between all the Saiyans in Cell saga (and especially about Goku on Namek), but this is surely already more than you bargained for when you opened this can of worms, so, Vegeta. When I think of Vegeta’s awakening to Super Saiyan, I tend to default to the original dub’s take (ep129), because it has lived in my head rent free since I saw it and it will not give me peace.

Take this part of my rambling with a grain of salt, I know I’m about to get a little ‘it’s not that deep’ about it, but. Here’s my interpretation of this. Vegeta only attains Super Saiyan once he has done away with distractions—not entirely because now he can focus on nothing but his training, but because he’s inadvertently given himself space to even begin to process all the shit from the last 25 years of his life, even if he fights it every step of the way as weakness. All the self-hatred, yes, but also the aforementioned frustration, the grief, the anger. The helplessness. ‘I didn’t care if I lived. I didn’t care about anything.’

Ultimately the trigger to Super Saiyan is a single moment of all-consuming emotion, so whichever thread of canon you personally subscribe to, the facts are that something happened in Vegeta out there in the middle of nowhere space. And he returns to Earth riding high. I’m not gonna lie, he’s rocking some seriously manic energy when he shows up to waste Android 19, and honestly why wouldn’t he be? He’s latched onto this new power and he doesn’t have to feel anything else. Things are finally going right. He’s invincible. He’s the king again. This is The Way Things Are Supposed To Go.

…

…right?

Super Saiyan is supposed to be a solution for Vegeta, and instead it eventually turns itself into a problem during Cell and the androids. To be fair, he can’t misestimate the strength of an opponent he can’t sense in the first place, but even so, he’s so blinded by the euphoria of succeeding for once in his goddamn life that he can’t imagine that anything can be stronger than him. Androids 17 and 18 are a rude fucking awakening. They are the ultimate pulling-the-rug-out-from-under-you vibe check. All those pieces that he struggled so hard to put back together, kicked apart again without thought or effort. He has a bit of a crisis over it, understandably.

In the interest of brevity, I’m glossing over the intermediary parts between Vegeta coming out of the time chamber (wish we had more info on what transpired in there, personally) and the tail end of the Cell saga, because it’s something of a repeat of what he did with Freeza, except he’s using Goku’s ‘let Freeza power up to 100% to hammer home his superiority’ logic. I made a previous post on my main blog about the post-Cell part of Vegeta’s character arc, which I’ll copy down here with some minor revisions:

The hell of Vegeta swearing to never fight again is that he actually follows through, at least in the beginning.

There are seven years between Cell and Buu. In every version of the media I’ve gone through—English manga, uncut dub, uncut JP, Kai dub—Bulma says that Vegeta has trained the last five years before the tournament. Which can only mean that there was a two year gap right after the Cell Games where he didn’t train at all.

And like. Can you really blame him. His purpose in life has been cut out from under him not once but twice, first by Goku attaining Super Saiyan and avenging their people by killing Freeza, and then by Goku’s decision to stay dead and deny him the opportunity to surpass him. His strength has proven insufficient time and again no matter how hard he works, overshadowed by that of a boy half his age, who doesn’t even like to fight. His pride hinges on both of those things and even before that was mercilessly trampled on. He has no people. No planet. No purpose, power, or pride.

I really do think the only things keeping him going by this point are inertia and spite. Almost without doubt, this is the absolute nadir of Vegeta’s existence: at least, the nadir for the man he thinks he has to be, or can’t reconcile not being. If he has nothing, if the last things tethering him to his supposed innate nature (to borrow a line from this fic, shameless plug,) are torn away from him, what is left for him to do but accept defeat and submit to change?

What he doesn’t know yet is that that’s okay. He doesn’t know yet, but the seven years that Goku is no longer a presence in his life is perhaps the best thing Goku could have possibly given him. Without Goku physically there to be actionable on (for lack of a better phrase), new things can grow in the spaces where his animosity and aggression burned holes in him. Even if Vegeta is still nursing the embers of that blaze and ignoring the encroaching growth as hard as he can, he is still beginning to care about things that the old him wouldn’t. (coming back to Vegeta’s logic on strength: to Vegeta, Gohan’s victory over Cell is also Goku’s victory, and Trunks’ loss is his own loss. Bulma mentions to Gohan that he’s dead set on making Trunks stronger than him, and why would Vegeta care about that goal specifically unless Trunks’ victory over Gohan is also Vegeta’s victory over Goku?)

And then.

And then all of a sudden, Goku is back in the picture. And when he comes back, so does the Vegeta from before, like a relapse.

Because as much growing as does, he still has seven years to gnaw on the same question he has been for ages now. Why is Goku so much stronger than he is, being what he is? Why is he so inadequate? There is now a window, fleeting as it may be, for Vegeta to get some answers he had no reason to assume he’d ever get. There is now the terrible possibility that he can make things go The Way They Are Supposed To Go. And Goku’s willing to let him take that shot and get those answers, right up until the whole business surrounding Buu disrupts everything and then he isn’t anymore.

Because the thing is, they were scheduled to fight each other before anybody else. Vegeta was not supposed to see the gap between himself and Goku until he was experiencing it firsthand. Picture for a minute the timeline in which the tournament plays out normally. Goku and Vegeta fight, Goku wins, and then Vegeta’s only recourse is to demand answers from Goku—who would surely give them, to the best of his ability!—or to come to his own conclusions and act from there. Either he makes peace with affairs, uneasy as it may be, or he blows up immediately, and Goku is there to stop him before he gets too out of hand. Instead, what happens is that he’s given the opportunity to realize that he’s still inferior, he still doesn’t understand why, and most importantly, that there’s a third option open to him. At the cost of his will, there is a way.

Submitting to Babidi to force Goku’s hand and close the gap is the act of a man who knows that he is running out of time. Whatever pride Vegeta still has would not possibly have allowed this unless he was so desperate for closure that he couldn’t see another way. For ten years he’s been trying to rebuild a sandcastle below the high tide line, and it’s not that he’s too stupid to move farther up so he isn’t freshly shattered at every pass—it’s just that trying to power through in the face of futility is literally all that he knows to do. He has been coming apart stitch by stitch ever since he met Goku, his worldview and his preconceptions of destiny and self dissolving in slow motion under his feet. Goku will only be here for a day. This is the last chance he has, and he knows it. He knows he’s not going to see Goku in the afterlife, even before he asks Piccolo.

What the fuck else was he supposed to do?

The music in the background of this scene is ‘Trapped Between Past and Present’ and if that doesn’t sum up the backbone of Vegeta’s arc in Z, then there’s nothing that does.

The beauty of his sacrifice is that he still has the mark of evil on his forehead when he dies, even though he’s bucked Babidi’s mind control by that point. He chooses the present. He chooses to symbolically and very literally raze his old self to the ground for the sake of all that his new self cares for. That is why the impermanence of death in Dragon Ball works for him. That’s why I go insane over the Majin arc specifically. New growth roots in ashes, phoenixes and sapling trees both.

Super (and end of Z) is where you get to luxuriate in that growth and watch it pay off, and oh my god does it ever pay off. Without going deep into spoiler territory (formally begging all of you to read the manga here), the later arcs begin to address Vegeta reckoning with his personal sins against the Namekians, and those of his race, who destroyed countless worlds under Freeza. Vegeta and Beerus have a conversation in chapter 69 of Super where things I’ve described in this here essay are worded explicitly into the canon. I think of it to this day. I think of all of the things Vegeta does in Super and I think it’s incredible just how far he’s come.

Before creation comes destruction.

Alright that’s enough pretentious meta. Here’s Vegeta being very happy about a well-earned victory. Isn’t he so fuckin’ cute.

*ep85, or 41 if you prefer Kai

[wanderer-six]

Across the Stars (for @loving-the-cambridges)

AN: this is my story for the CLONE FIC GIFT EXCHANGE @cloneficgiftexchange! I had so much fun participating in this and really hope another happens soon💖 this one got super long but nonetheless I hope you enjoy!! (also big shoutout to @starrylothcat for beta reading!!)

Relationships: Commander Cody x Royal Fem!Reader

Summary: Commander Cody had hoped that being assigned as security detail for a royal gala would be nothing more than a mundane distraction from the war. But when Separatists attempt to assassinate the you, the princess, he's forced to take you into hiding--and forced to reevaluate his priorities.

Prompts: "I didn't mean to throw you off your feet"; "Are you going to stay"

NSFW (MINORS DNI) WARNINGS: eventual smut (pretty vague, but includes oral (f! receiving), unprotected piv sex)

Word Count: 9.2k (SORRY)

Cody was rarely one to complain about assignments, but for gala detail, he would make an exception.

The night was young, and Cody grew older by the moment as every high society aristocrat passed him by on their way into the ballroom. Not one of them so much as acknowledged his presence, and frankly, he preferred it that way. Fox had told Cody his fair share of stories—tales of shepherding senators who’d no more faced the horrors of war than any hardship in life. On any other occasion, this should’ve been Fox’s jurisdiction in the first place: no world had the privilege of constant political parties more than Coruscant, after all.

But it seemed the fates had cruel intentions for Cody. This particular gathering was not to take place in the heart of the galaxy, but rather, a Mid-Rim planet he and his men were in near enough proximity to after their latest battle. Cody had tried to argue that their efforts were best spent elsewhere—fighting the war, for one. But high command in the Republic demanded the presence of the 212th at this event, and without General Kenobi there to argue on his behalf, Cody and his men were forced to comply with the order.

But it was just for the night, he reminded himself. He winced beneath his helmet as yet another couple entered the ballroom, dressed in robes so costly they could fund a whole battalion of his brothers.

Just for the night.

Cody activated the communicator in his helmet.

“Status report,” he spoke. 

He’d called for a status report not even thirty minutes prior, but he felt compelled to do so again. Not out of any concern of attack—just so he could be certain the men were still awake.

He was struggling, as it was.

“All clear from the northern balcony,” came a reply.

“No trouble in the shipyard.”

“The gardens are still as boring as they were when we got here.”

The slightest smirk found Cody’s lips.

“Affirmative. Keep your eyes peeled. And open,” he asserted. “We’re just here for the night. You’ll be back to blasting clankers before you know it.”

An unenthused “sir, yes sir” followed in a chorus over his comms, and Cody sighed. He glanced up at the stained glass ceiling hanging over the ballroom, seeing the moon rise ever higher beyond it.

Just for the night.

The active chatter of the crowd in the ballroom fell all at once to a murmur, and Cody hadn’t the slightest idea why. He stood taller than his already perfect posture, trying not to appear out of sorts as he sought out what had drawn the room’s attention.

The briefing for this assignment had mentioned precious little about the purpose of this gala, and it had certainly neglected any note of the princess hosting it. But when you emerged through the massive ballroom doors, Cody grew transfixed just as everyone had.

From atop the grand staircase, you possessed the eyes of every noble in attendance. Your long gown flowed with every step of your descent, its simple design never once distracting from the perfect poise with which you carried yourself. A crystalline tiara glittered atop your head, earning glances of envy from the crowd, but Cody hardly noticed it; he was much too distracted by the radiant eyes beneath it.

In the midst of your angelic descent to the ballroom floor, Cody overheard a pair of nobles whispering somewhere on his flank.

“The princess is here?” one of them asked in hushed tones.

“Of course she is,” replied another, “it’s her gala.”

“I know that! It’s just… is it truly safe for her to be here? If the Separatists knew—”

“—then what? They’d be foolish to try something.”

As you landed on the final step, you did something no one else had dared to do the entire evening. You glanced at the clone commander standing guard by the bannister, meeting him with a shy smile he would remember for the rest of his life.

As quickly as the moment had begun, the night returned to normal. The regular commotion resumed as you were swept into the awaiting crowd, greeted by politicians and royals alike, all while Cody remained frozen in time. Admittedly, Cody was not the most sociable man, even by the standard of the clones. Never in his life, in all the planets he had visited, had he seen a woman as remarkable as you. He honestly wasn’t even sure how to respond to it all—the fluttering in his stomach and the burning beneath his cheeks.

A quiet sigh passed his lips. As if there was anything to do besides remain in place. He could be the most charismatic man in the galaxy, and it wouldn’t matter. There was more that stood between him and you than his own gracelessness. A soldier speaking to a princess would be shut down well before he began fumbling the conversation.

So, he stayed in place, perfectly unassuming, trying to stifle the wish to get one more glance at you. Waiting.

Just for the night.

“Commander… we might have a problem.”

The chirp of Cody’s commlink brought him out of his silent moping. He pressed his fingers to his helmet.

“What is it?” he asked.

A pause. No reply. Cody nearly called in again, when another soldier called in.

“Commander! We have hostiles approaching from the northern ridge!”

“Close ranks! We’re being overrun!”

Cody opened his mouth to give orders, when suddenly, the stained glass dome above the ballroom shattered. In the glow of the moon, a fleet of droids crashed through the ceiling, landing among the nobles below. The ballroom erupted into chaos, nobles running and screaming as the droids readied their weapons.

“This planet is under Separatist control!” cried a battle droid as it paced among the crowd. “We demand that the princess be brought to us for immediate execution!”

Execution?

Cody sprung to action, scanning through the crowd, hoping to find you before the droids could. At last, his eyes spotted the sparkling tiara in the sea of panicked nobles. Try as you might to move to safety, too many shoving partygoers kept you locked in place.

And what was worse was the imposing shadow of a B2 battle droid stalking up behind you, growing closer by the second.

Barging through the crowd, Cody sprinted to your position. The B2 stopped in place a few paces from you, slowly lifting its arm into firing position. Cody’s eyes shot wide.

“Princess!” he shouted.

He barely managed to catch your attention before breaking through the mob, collapsing upon you just as the B2 fired its wrist rocket.

The two of you crashed to the ground, Cody doing his best to keep you in his arms and shield you from the heat of the explosion. When the blast faded, he pulled away, quickly getting to his feet and helping you do the same.

“Princess, it’s not safe here,” Cody called over the commotion. “We need to go!”

The frazzled, frightened face that looked back at him made his heart ache. But the small, half-lucid nod you gave him was enough for him. He kept your hand in his as he began guiding you to safety.

The two of you ran, Cody steering you away from any possible threat. As he pulled you up the grand staircase you’d entered from, he triggered his commlink.

“This is Commander Cody; I have the princess,” he spoke. “We are moving for evacuation. Hold out as long as you can!”

As he burst through the ballroom doors, he turned sharply down an adjacent hallway, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Princess, what’s the fastest way to the landing platform?” he called. For a moment, you were too dazed to answer, and Cody’s brow furrowed. “Stay with me, Princess. The landing platform?”

“Take… take the next left,” you answered at last. Your voice was soft—far too soft for what you’d endured that night. “There’s a ship on the landing platform… my ship—we can use that.”

Cody nodded firmly, following your instructions to the letter. Through the echoed sounds of attack, you and Cody emerged onto the landing platform, where a small golden vessel awaited you. Cody wasn’t worried about where the two of you were headed—for now, offworld was all that mattered.

Together, you boarded your starship. Once Cody ensured you were situated in the ship’s living quarters, he rushed to the cockpit. Before the droids could grow wise to where you’d run off to, he picked the ship off the ground, navigating to the temporary reprieve of hyperspace.

, , ,

“Troubling news, this is…”

Cody stood in the cockpit of your ship, looking upon holograms of the two Master Jedi to whom he relayed the news. It was rare he had an audience with Master Yoda, but General Kenobi’s presence was familiar.

“More than troubling,” General Kenobi agreed. “To attack a peaceful gathering entirely unprovoked… the Separatists have gotten bolder.”

Master Yoda nodded, his chin clutched between his fingers. “Indeed. What they were seeking, I wonder?”

“I believe I can answer that, General,” Cody spoke at last. “Assassinating the princess seems to be the likely motivation. If the Separatists were to install their own leader, the planet would act as an important staging ground for future attacks on the Mid-Rim.”

“And save her, you did?”

“Yes, sir,” Cody confirmed. “She’s in stable condition aboard this vessel.”

Cody’s eyes lingered to the living quarters of the ship, where you had been since the two of you fled the planet. You’d kept quiet so far, unmoving from the bench you sat on. It struck Cody with an inexplicable worry.

“Good. Make sure she remains that way,” General Kenobi instructed. “The Separatists will be hunting her even now. You’ll need to ensure they aren’t able to find her.”

“Undercover, you must go,” Master Yoda added. “Refuge, on a nearby planet, must you seek. Until the princess’s planet, liberated, it is.”

Cody’s jaw tensed.

“And… how long will it take to muster enough forces and reclaim her world?” he asked.

“We believe we will have the required numbers in ten rotations,” General Kenobi answered.

Ten rotations?

Cody stifled his surprise, masking his uncertainty with his usual stoic expression.

“Understood, General,” he answered with a curt nod.

“Good,” General Kenobi answered. “Until we contact you, keep a low profile. And do not let anything happen to her.”

“That will be all, Commander,” Master Yoda said. The slightest smile appeared on the corners of his lips as he added, “May the Force be with you.”

The holograms before him dissipated, leaving Cody alone. He released the heavy sigh that he’d harbored in his chest. Ten rotations. To think that hours ago, this had been a mere pit stop on his way back to Coruscant, where he could await redeployment to a battlefront in need of his support. Now, it had become a full-fledged mission of its own…

Again, Cody glanced towards the back hold, seeing that you still hadn’t budged from where you sat. You stared hard at nothing, but he could tell that the violence of the droid army still flashed before your eyes. A wave of guilt washed over the commander. For him, this was just another assignment in years of war. But for you, your entire life had changed—taken from you with no warning and no remorse. If ten rotations was truly all it would take to see your world returned to you, it would be a blessing.

Treading quietly, Cody approached you. As he grew closer, he could make out more and more lesions on your skin. He tried not to grimace, but the sight of injuries on someone so beautiful ate at him. Though he was thankful you were still alive, he faulted himself for not being able to protect you from all the harm you’d endured that night.

“Princess…” he began. Immediately, you blinked out of your stupor, turning your attention to him. “I’ve received word that the Republic will be mounting a campaign to retake your world. But in the meantime, we’ll need to take you into hiding to ensure there are no more threats to your life.”

Your shoulders slumped.

“I see,” you murmured. “For how long?”

“We’re estimating around ten rotations.”

“Oh.”

It didn’t take a Jedi to discern the worry on your face, but in short order, you put on a smile. Right away, Cody knew it looked wrong—polite, pretty, but not at all real. Not anything like the warm smile you’d shown him when you first passed by him. 

“Thank you, sir, for informing me,” you said.

Your gaze fell to the floor, and the smile you’d forced onto your features fell along with it. Cody thought to take his leave, but couldn’t. Not yet. He didn’t want to abandon you in an empty hold, on a ship with an unknown soldier, to remain all by your lonesome. If he’d learned one thing from General Kenobi’s leadership, it was just how far a modicum of kindness could take you.

And for you, he could certainly be kind.

“Are you… all right?” he asked. His stilted voice made him wince. He hoped you didn’t take his rigidness as disrespect—he just wasn’t used to this. Any of it. 

You offered a weak nod in response.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him. “I… I think I’m still a bit out of sorts, is all. Thank you for your concern.”

 Cody took a seat beside you on the bench—though making sure to keep an overly respectful distance from you.

“It… must be hard for you. Leaving your home behind so suddenly,” he continued.

You shook your head halfheartedly.

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about my people,” you sighed. “We’ve resisted Separatist occupation for so long. I shouldn’t be in hiding while they suffer.”

Cody watched you as your hands trembled, your brow knit with worry. The pain you held ran deeper than your wounds from the attack, and that much was obvious even to him. Cody solved his problems with a blaster more often than he did with words, but for you, he felt compelled to try.

“If it means anything, Princess… I’m sure your people are just as concerned for your well-being,” Cody spoke at last. Your gaze met his once more, and the sincerity in your eyes nearly paralyzed him. He dashed his nervousness with an awkward cough. “The Republic values your world and your people. As soon as the necessary forces are able to deploy, I have complete confidence that you will be returned home with no further struggles against the Separatists. We won’t let you down, Princess.”

The hold fell silent. Your eyes, sparkling in the glow of hyperspace, peered into his. Although his sheepishness begged him to look away, he stared back at you. When at last a small grin formed on your lips, Cody wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or petrified.

“... I don’t believe you ever told me your name, sir,” you mentioned.

Cody gave an awkward nod. “It’s… Commander Cody, your highness.”

Your smile widened.

“Cody…” you repeated. The sound of his name on your lips made Cody’s face burn. “I’m thankful to have your company through all of this. I can’t imagine how much worse things could have been without your intervention. I owe you my life.”

In all his time on the front lines of this war, Cody had rarely been thanked. He never expected to be—he was quite literally born for this conflict, so gratitude was far from necessary. But knowing for once that his actions had meaning—that he was valued not merely as part of an army, but as an individual… it made his chest ache.

His gaze broke from yours, glancing away in hopes of slowing his rapid pulse.

“Of course, Princess. It’s what we’re here for,” he assured you. “Though… I should apologize.”

You tilt your head. “What for?”

His eyes returned to you; when he saw the bruises forming on your arms, he frowned.

“I’ve had better rescues,” he confessed. “I didn’t mean to throw you off your feet like that. I should’ve been more careful.”

To his surprise, a gentle laugh escaped you. He grimaced, wondering if he’d said something wrong. With a shake of your head, you rested your hand on his shoulder.

“Cody… a few bruises are no cost at all for staying alive to wear them,” you assured him. “I’d prefer getting knocked over by you to becoming a victim of the Separatists any day.”

The warmth of your touch and your smile seeped through Cody’s armor. Suddenly, the prospect of spending a few rotations ensuring your safety no longer troubled him so much. “Well… good,” he said. “Though, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to make a habit of barging into you—whether or not you prefer it.”

You beamed. Cody swore he saw the faintest blush on your cheeks.

“Just for special occasions, then?” you teased.

Cody chuckled, allowing his guard to drop for the first time that evening.

“If that’s what you want to call it… sure,” he replied.

 Something about the kindness you showed him made the war feel so distant, even in spite of all it had taken to get the two of you here. At your side, maybe ten rotations would feel like no time at all.

In the back of his mind, a small part of Cody even wondered if ten rotations was long enough.

, , ,

The transition to life on a quiet planet hadn’t been kind to either of you, but thankfully, having one another meant the struggle was not so overwhelming. Cody had taken a number of precautions from the moment you touched down—finding accommodations far from the nearest town center and ensuring that as few locals as possible even knew of your existence. The two of you had lived there in isolation for a few days now, in a little domicile out in the woodlands. And while those first few days were tense with worry, they were thankfully uneventful.

At first, Cody had tried to keep himself distant from you. He had little knowledge of what the life of a royal might entail, but something told him that fraternizing with a common soldier was probably considered an etiquette breach of some kind. But despite his attempts at maintaining decorum, every kind gesture made your company irresistible to him. Each time you brewed a pot of caf in the morning, you would offer him a mug. His rations were always tended to before your own. Even at night, you wouldn’t sleep before ensuring there wasn’t something he needed your help with. Compared to his typical soldier’s life, you treated him like royalty—a bit of irony that was far from lost on him.

The uneventful days meant the two of you had ample time to talk. You clearly had experience with speaking, having penned and performed countless speeches on your homeworld. But the way you talked to Cody felt different from any senate address he had ever heard. You spoke so fondly of things you missed from your homeworld, memories that you could glow about for hours. Cody was content to let you, though admittedly, there were times he found his attention drifting from your words—watching instead the way your eyes would glitter, your lips would purse, your cheeks would blush.

Of course, you turned the conversation to him just as often. Cody initially struggled to match your enthusiasm, not one to hold such a romantic memory of most anything. But you quickly found a way through his shell when you landed on the topic of his brothers—the only family he had, and the one he devoted himself fiercely to. Something about your attentive gaze and warm smiles made it easy for Cody to open up to you in a way he had never even considered opening up to anyone else.

Your talks served as such a fitting distraction, in fact, that you barely noticed just how much time had passed the two of you by. Both of you were caught by surprise the day you awoke to no caf left to brew—and hardly any rations, to match.

Faced with the options of going hungry or making the trek to the nearby marketplace for supplies, Cody chose the latter. He had grappled for an hour whether it was wiser to leave you alone in the domicile where you might be safer, but lack his protection. However, you made the decision for him—insisting that you would be joining him no matter what he had to say about it.

He hadn’t been so keen on the idea, at first. But as he watched you browse the bustling farmer’s market, he warmed to it quickly enough.

As the two of you roamed around the marketplace, you stopped for what Cody estimated to be the tenth time in the past hour, taking an interest in a hand-woven tapestry hanging on a stall.

“Hmm…” you hummed, taking in the uniquely knitted fabric.

Cody tilted his head, a smirk on his lips. “Enjoying yourself?”

You returned to his side, grinning up at him.

“I am, thank you,” you returned, speaking in stride as the two of you began walking again. “Have some sympathy, will you? I’m lucky if I get to leave my palace once a cycle.”

When another patron skirted a bit too close for comfort, you didn’t hesitate to walk nearer to Cody’s side. It swelled a strange sense of pride in him, knowing that you trusted him enough to keep you safe. To be your protector. He swore to never make you regret that trust.

“I’m just… trying to act natural,” you continued.  “I’ve never had to get supplies for myself, as strange as that is to admit.” You look up at him curiously. “Do you think we stick out at all?”

A dry smirk found Cody’s lips.

“What, a clone and a princess on a planet of farmers? I can’t imagine how we would,” he snarked. 

When you donned that sweet, flustered grin, Cody’s smile widened.

“You’re mean,” you teased.

“You make it easy.”

With a roll of your eyes, you checked satchel on your hip.

“Well… since we have almost everything, I don’t think I’ll have to endure your cruelty for much longer, at least,” you pointed out. “I think we’re just missing…”

Before your sentence ended, a clamor from further up in the marketplace interrupted you. Cody placed a hand on your shoulder, holding you close as the scene developed. At first, he could only make out the sight of fleeing patrons and frightened stall owners hastily stowing their merchandise.

But then, that familiar, metallic clanking droned into Cody’s ears, and he knew. 

The Separatists were here.

A full squad of droids trampled into view on the dirt road, kicking up clouds of dust behind them. At the center, a B1 barked orders at the civilians.

“Attention, citizens! There is a royal fugitive hiding on your planet. Bring her to us, or face the consequences!”

As the droids advanced, you stiffened. Given the unlikelihood of a different princess running from Separatist forces somewhere on this world, these droids were here for you. And if the two of you didn’t act quickly, they just might find you.

Cody’s eyes narrowed, donning the Commander’s mindset with ease. He reached for your wrist, taking extra care to be gentle in fear of reliving the first time he rescued you.

“This way,” he said, his voice hushed. With deft strides, he led you through the crowd—all of whom seemed far too distracted by the encroaching droids to notice just who was passing by them.

Cody’s eyes scanned the marketplace, and the moment he spotted an alleyway behind a few abandoned stalls, he began formulating an exit strategy. But his swiftly-made plan met almost immediately with challenges. A separate squad of droids approaching from a few dozen meters off prepared to slam his only window of opportunity shut.

With no time to explain, Cody slipped his arm around your waist, sweeping you toward the alleyway alongside him. Just as you entered the shadows, he pressed you against the wall, leaning his hand against the brick surface in such a way that the shawl on his shoulder fully obscured you from the main thoroughfare.

At first, Cody listened closely to the sound of the droids stalking past, counting the paces as their metallic frames shambled down the street. Only when his focus returned to the sight directly in front of him did he realize just how close you were as he loomed over you now.

Years of outmaneuvering droids made the invading Separatists all but mundane. Standing chest to chest with you, his lips a mere tilt of his head from yours… that was what sent his heart racing at lightspeed.

“Ah… a-apologies, Princess,” he murmured, his gaze trying to meet anything but you. He silently chastised himself, unable to imagine how daunted you must feel by his actions. 

But it was your touch on his cheek that pulled him back to reality—and the gentle guidance of your hand that pulled his gaze back to yours. The smile you wore drew a blush to his cheeks.

“Cody…” you spoke softly. His name… you made it sound so perfect. “You have nothing to apologize for. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here.”

Cody could only hope the droids were long gone, as the only sound he could hear clearly was the pounding pulse in his ears. The weight of your words hit his chest like a speeder, leaving him hopeless to muster any meaningful response.

“...o-of course,” was all he could utter. With all his strength, he found the slightest smile of his own, holding your gaze until he could no longer handle the sight of you without losing sight of himself. “It is my honor to protect you, Princess.”

When at last he looked away, he drew a steadying breath. From the sound of it, the droids outside the alleyway had passed. A relief, but not a great one, since the challenge of escaping the city still remained.

However reluctantly, Cody pulled himself away from you, though keeping a hand on your waist to ensure you stayed at his side. A cautious glance out of the alleyway revealed no additional droids—a promising sign.

“We need to keep moving,” Cody said, staying vigilant as he walked you through the market. “We’re nearly at the edge of town. If we can get clear of the market and into the forest—”

“You! Stop right there!”

The shrill, tinny voice of a battle droid brought Cody to a halt for a mere moment. The rhythmic clanking approached from behind the two of you.

“Identify yourselves, citizens!” the droid hissed as it got nearer. Cody didn’t respond. The droid stalked ever closer. “Are your auditory processors working? Identification—now!”

Cody squeezed your hip, leaning in just close enough for you to hear him whisper.

“Run.”

Abruptly, he released you from his grasp, whirling around and ripping his pistol from its thigh holster along the way. He needed only a split second to spot the droid—and shorter still to fire a shot into its head.

The sound of blaster fire alerted the dozens of other droids scattered around the marketplace, drawing them all in perfect pace to the location of their fallen comrade. Not wanting to give them an easy shot, Cody took off running the same direction you had.

As he ran, he looked ahead, trying but failing to see you—especially now that the blaster fire had stirred the remaining civilians into a frenzy. He kept faith that you’d listened to him and ran, unable to do much more with the droids’ stray blaster bolts ringing by his ears. He darted through the mob, tuning out every distraction—the clamor of the crowd, the dust plumes kicked up by the droids’ blasters...

“Cody!”

Your voice, however, always seemed to get his attention.

Cody locked his legs, sliding to an abrupt halt against the dusty road. He whipped his head in the direction of your voice, and at last, he spotted you taking cover behind a market stall. You waved him over to you, and as he ran, he saw why you’d chosen here, of all places, to wait for him.

Parked beside the stall was an abandoned speeder bike ripe for the taking.

As Cody arrived at your side, he stopped only briefly to set his hand on your shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

You nodded. “I’m fine. I found this speeder—”

“Already on it,” Cody interjected. Before he turned to the speeder, he handed you his blaster. “Have you ever used one of these?”

“Once or twice. O-Only for ceremonies…”

“Good enough,” he grunted, already on his knees to slice the speeder’s controls. “If any droid gets close, point it and fire.”

Cody tried to ignore the impending march of the clankers, rewiring the bike as quickly as he could manage. He’d nearly cracked it when he heard a blaster bolt ring out at his side, and a metallic pang some dozen meters behind him. He didn’t dare risk a glance over his shoulder to take in your handiwork, but beneath his adrenaline, he felt the smallest tinge of pride.

At last, the speeder’s engine revved to life. Cody got to his feet, finding you standing over the crumpled body of a B1. You gripped his blaster with white knuckles, hands trembling ever so slightly, just waiting for another clanker to try its luck. Biting back a smirk, Cody took the pistol from your hands.

“Nice shot,” he said quickly. With his free hand, he helped sit you on the front of the speeder. “Hold on tight. Once we get moving—”

“Cody, look out!”

You pointed past Cody with wide eyes, and he had barely a moment to follow your gaze as another droid rounded the corner. Just as it raised its blaster and fired, you yanked Cody down by his wrist. The bolt that would’ve been in Cody’s chest instead singed his shoulder, and Cody was glad he was alive to feel the pain that coursed from his wound.

Fumbling for his pistol, Cody fired two shots—managing to drop the droid with the second. But as it fell, even more came to replace it. With gritted teeth, Cody clambered onto the speeder behind you.

“Your shoulder…!” you cried, looking upon his wound with wide eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted. “Hold on!”

Pushing through his pain, Cody clasped the bike’s handlebars. The engine roared, launching the bike forward and gaining speed by the second. A hail of blasterfire flew around the two of you, and Cody veered as well as he could manage to avoid it. Once the speeder cleared through the treeline, the bolts became fewer and fewer, until at last, none at all chased after you. , , ,

The adrenaline driving Cody subsided little by little on the long ride back to the domicile. By the time the two of you arrived, the stinging wound on his shoulder had begun to ache and burn. Even so, he forced himself to keep his priorities straight—which meant tending to you, first and foremost.

When he parked the speeder, he got to his feet, before reaching his hand down to help you stand. To his surprise, though, you stared back at him in horror.

“Princess…?” he breathed.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes.

“Cody… w-we need to get inside,” you instructed.

You dismounted the bike, only taking his hand to lead him indoors. You slammed the door behind him, a shaky breath leaving your lips as you sat him down on a chaise in the living quarters. Cody watched you, confused as you began to rifle through cabinets.

“Princess, what’s wrong?” he asked.

You didn’t answer, merely shaking your head. He could see the way your hands trembled as you fished the bacta patches out from one of the cabinets. When you turned to face him again, the glow of the sunset through the windows was just enough to light the tears on your face.

You sat beside him, and before he could say a word, you reached for the collar of his shirt. His chest seized as your nimble fingers ran down his body, too nervous to even breathe. One by one, you unhooked the fasteners, before carefully stripping the fabric from him. Seeing the wound on his shoulder more clearly now only made you cry harder, forcing you to pinch your eyes shut as you prepared a bacta patch.

Realizing now what had you so worked up, Cody found the ghost of a smile.

“Hey… it’s all right,” he promised. “I’ve taken worse hits than this. I’ll be fine.”

You sniffled, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand before carefully affixing the bacta patch to the wound on his shoulder. Your hands lingered there, reddened eyes unmoving from his injury.

Against his better judgment, Cody put his hand on your cheek. Gently, he turned your gaze to meet his.

“Princess, please,” he begged. When more tears slipped from your eyes, he swept them away with his thumb. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Your lips parted slightly, but still, you struggled to speak. Cody’s heart ached at your hesitation; he leaned closer to you, running his thumb softly against your cheekbone. To his relief, you leaned into his touch, sighing and calming down.

“This is all happening because of me,” you confessed at last.

Cody tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“None of this would’ve happened if the Separatists weren’t hunting me. You… you got hurt because of me.” Despite your best efforts, tears overwhelmed you again. “You could’ve died… and it would’ve been my fault.”

Your sorrow ate away at Cody. Never had he felt this irrepressible instinct—the desire to pull you into his arms, to hold you against his chest and promise you over and over that everything would be all right. He’d make it all right for you. Someone like you didn’t deserve to feel this way… and certainly not on his behalf.

Though he wished he could break that barrier, the most he could manage was placing his other hand against your cheek—cupping your face softly. He gazed into your glassy, beautiful eyes, struggling to find the words to convey everything on his mind.

“Princess…” he began softly, “please, listen to me. None of this is your fault. Believe me, the Separatists have no trouble shooting at me whether or not I’m with you.”

You pouted. “But I—”

Cody pinched your cheek playfully. “Hey. Just listen.”

To his utmost relief, the slightest smile formed on your lips. But though he was glad to see it, it made what he planned to say next all the more difficult.

“If anything… I’m happy I was the one to take a hit today. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you under my protection,” he continued. His words felt strangled in his throat, and every passing second begged him to find the courage to speak. “I… I would do anything for you, Princess. I… um…”

Looking into your eyes—seeing just how beautiful, soft, and breathtaking you appeared in the bloom of the setting sun… Cody couldn’t finish his thought. The words that lingered on his tongue held such consequence—both for him and for you. He couldn’t say which he feared more: that you might reject him, or that you might not.

But as always, you saw through him. You leaned in closer, resting one of your hands on his.

“You what?” you prompted him, gazing fondly into his eyes.

Unable to deny you, Cody drove himself to speak. 

“I… care about you.”

It wasn’t what he truly wished to say. But in your eyes, he knew you understood.

“Cody…”

His name on your lips drove him mad. But your lips on his sent him spiraling.

Every glance he’d stolen at your lips never could have prepared him for the feeling of kissing you like this. What little distance remained between the two of you melted away, and the uncharacteristic hesitation that had plagued Cody since the day he met you finally left him. Knowing that you felt just as strongly as he did finally allowed him to be his true self. It compelled him to serve you as more than just a soldier.

Nothing but a word from you could have stopped Cody then—from carrying you to your bed, from laying you carefully upon your sheets, from gently stripping the fabric from your figure. Your hands minded his injury as they ran over his skin, but he had forgotten about it long ago. His only concern was you.

“Cody…”

His name dripped from your lips like honey as he worked his way down your body, marking inch after inch of your form with delicate kisses. It was a softness he hadn’t believed himself capable of. But every fleeting, tender touch you graced him with inspired something in his heart. He had never been loved before; he was a soldier, built for battle and nothing more. And yet, you treated him with such care—as though he might break from too swift a touch. In a way, he supposed it was true. The mere feeling of being cared for swelled his heart so full that he feared it might burst.

No, he had never been loved before. And if this was to be the last time, he wanted to relish it utterly.

“Cody…”

He couldn’t say which he was drunk on more: the sound of your voice as you breathed his name, or the wetness he lapped between your legs. With your fingers roaming through his hair, his head held snugly between your thighs, there was nowhere else in the galaxy that could’ve filled Cody with such bliss. Every twist of your hips, every arch of your back, every hitch of your breath only drove him to please you more.

“Cody…”

You looked so beautiful as he loomed over you now. The warm dusk painted your skin, though your cheeks burned red without it. And your smile… even as he ran his thumb along your lips, even as he trailed his length against your sex, it never faded from your face. You wore it just for him, and he would not take that privilege for granted.

Only when he pressed into you did the overwhelming pleasure turn your expression to something different, but he didn’t fret, choosing to meet your lips with his, instead.

“Cody…!”

In an eternity and an instant, he could feel himself unraveling. It took all his strength to keep from succumbing to the agonizing, heavenly warmth you enveloped him with. How could he, when you still needed him? Lips lavishing your neck, hands tangled in your hair, he buried himself in you over and over. While your nails dragged across his back, your voice grew hoarse from whimpers and moans. He knew you were close—so horribly, painfully close.

When his hand trailed down across your form, and his fingers grazed the aching point between your legs, you cried his name for the last time that night.

“Cody!”

Wave after wave of your release shuddered through you, the sensation spelling Cody’s end, all the same. Your ankles locked around him, holding him in your depths as he filled you with his warmth. Trembling and spent, Cody barely managed to keep himself from collapsing on you, maintaining his balance just long enough to meet you in a soft, tender kiss—one that could never convey the full extent of his adoration.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, if only to join you at the head of the bed. As the heat of your encounter faded, an inkling of uncertainty entered Cody’s mind again. His hands longed for you, but as before, your titles stood in his way. He feared being improper, offending you somehow even after the love you’d shared…

But, to his utmost thankfulness, you were not about to let him flounder. Unabashed, you worked your way into his arms, burrowing yourself against his broad chest. The mere sight overwhelmed Cody with warmth. With no further doubts, he embraced you, dotting kiss after loving kiss upon your head.

After a moment, he leaned back, if only to look upon you. Again, you met him with that smile—the one he would never tire of, and the one he hoped you would wear any time he was near. Gently, he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Princess…” he hummed. “I…”

You bumped your nose on his. “Yes, Cody?”

He sighed. There remained no part of him that could resist you now.

“I love you.”

His heart did not race at his words, nor did yours. Your smile merely widened, and you snaked your arms around his neck, drawing him in for yet another kiss. His confession was no shock to either of you. You’d had his love from the moment he first laid eyes on you. But what you said in turn—however much he had hoped to hear it—he still felt unprepared for.

“I love you, too.”

The moons rose over the horizon as the two of you shared in each others’ affection, and Cody had never been so content. Even as he drifted off, holding you in his arms, he thought not of the war, the Separatists, the dangers he might face come morning.

Only you.

,,,

That morning, you hadn’t brewed Cody a mug of caf, as was routine. But given there was no force in the galaxy that could pry you from his arms, he had to forgive you.

Lazy mornings felt strange to Cody—and lazy mornings in the embrace of a beautiful woman, even stranger. His fondest dreams could never compare to the sight of you waking up on his chest, eyes full of love as they looked upon him for the first time that day.

Gently, he set his hand against your cheek, beckoning your lips closer. You offered a soft kiss, with barely enough weight to graze your lips against his. Cody could feel you smile against him, and he could only smile, in turn.

“Good morning, Princess,” he hummed, trailing languid kisses along your jaw. “Now what has you smiling at this hour?”

His teasing only served to widen your grin. You giggled—not stopping when his lips continued down your neck.

“Oh, nothing, really… I suppose I’m just in good spirits,” you sighed. Your hands ran along Cody’s shoulders, slipping up his neck until you buried your fingers in his hair. “It’s entirely possible that it has something to do with waking up next to such a handsome man, but… I can’t be sure.”

Cody chuckled. His lips had reached your collarbone now, and he had no desire to stop lavishing you anytime soon.

“You can’t, can you?” he echoed. “What would it take to make you sure?”

As he asked his question, Cody’s calloused hands slipped up your thighs, roving over your hips and up your gorgeous frame. His touch drew the faintest gasp from your lips, emboldening him ever more. Though the night you shared had exhilarated Cody beyond his wildest dreams, he couldn’t help but long for more of you. And judging by the way your back arched against him, you hadn’t had your fill of him, either.

“Cody…” A whimper passed your lips when his hands cupped your chest. Through a love-drunk smile, you breathed, “I love you…”

Cody hummed softly, intoxicated from the caress of your fingers along his scalp. He kissed along your sternum, reveling in your every sound.

“I love you, more…”

The shrill beeping from the strewn pile of Cody’s clothes on the floor startled both of you, a cruel return to reality. With a heavy sigh, Cody shook his head. If someone was making the effort to reach him on an undercover operation, it had to be important… much to his displeasure.

Wrapping you tightly in his arms, he offered a kiss to your forehead as a parting gift.

“You stay put,” he instructed playfully. “No getting into trouble while I’m gone.”

You rolled your eyes and bumped your nose against his. “I’ll try.”

With a heavy sigh, Cody left the warmth of the bed and your arms behind, making himself presentable for whomever awaited on the other end of the ringing commlink. Once he was dressed, he stepped out of your bedroom, ensuring the door closed firmly behind him. Alone in the main room of the domicile, he accepted the incoming transmission.

“General Kenobi,” Cody spoke as the Jedi flickered to life on the holoprojector.

“Good morning, Cody,” General Kenobi answered. “It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve talked. How are you getting on?”

Cody swallowed the immediate fear that shot through him, forgetting for a moment that the general was looking for a situation report—not any summary of what trouble his commander may have gotten into the night prior.

“We’re… surviving,” Cody replied. “We had a close call yesterday—some Separatist deployments have made their way to this planet looking for the princess, and they nearly found her, too. But we were able to evade them without incident.”

“I see,” the general hummed, stroking his beard. “I suppose this news will be a relief, then. We’ve successfully liberated the princess’s homeworld, so the two of you won’t need to fend for yourselves any longer.”

Cody’s eyes went wide. 

“Already?” he uttered.

“You sound surprised.”

“Well… i-it’s just that it’s only been eight rotations,” Cody floundered, trying to recover. “I was expecting we’d be here longer, but… that’s… good to hear, General.”

“I’m glad,” General Kenobi returned. “I’ll be on the lookout for an update or your arrival. May the Force be with you, Commander.”

“Thank you, sir. We’ll be there soon.”

The hologram dissipated, and Cody’s heart sank along with it. As a Marshal Commander, it was rare for him to lose track of… well, anything. But it seemed he’d gotten so wrapped up in this little fantasy with you that he forgot the caveats that came along with it—most notably, that it would eventually come to an end. It was bittersweet: on one hand, he was thankful to know your planet was safe, and he would be eager to return to his brothers…

…but on the other, the mere thought of leaving you behind twisted his stomach into knots.

Sighing, Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. He supposed all that remained was to break the news to you. But he couldn’t say why his feet stayed put—why he couldn’t bring himself to open the bedroom door again.

“I’m guessing it’s bad news for you, too…?”

Your voice brought Cody back from his brooding. When he turned, he found you wrapped up in one of his shawls, leaning against the doorway with a sad smirk on your lips. The sun bathed your skin in a radiant glow that made you look simply ethereal.

As if the universe couldn’t make this any harder on him…

Cody returned to you, his hands slipping around your waist. He could see the disappointment in your smile; even as you draped your arms over his shoulders, resting your forehead on his, you didn’t beam as brightly as you had before. Cody couldn’t blame you—his smile was just as somber.

“Yeah. I didn’t realize how long it’s been,” he sighed. With a bitter chuckle, he added, “I guess that’ll teach me to train my battalion so well. If they were worse soldiers, we might’ve had more time.”

Though his words earned a giggle from you, it didn’t linger. Before long, you fell quiet again, and Cody couldn’t bring himself to break the silence. He held you close, safe and sound in his arms. His hands ran up and down your back, and he planted kiss after lazy kiss upon your head. All while his mind raced.

What could he say? The options overwhelmed him, but not one felt like enough to make up for the reality of the situation. I love you with all I am. I wish we had more time. I want to marry you.

“Are you going to stay?”

Your voice caught Cody by surprise. He leaned back, if only to meet your eyes. When he did, he found you looking back at him with the slightest sorrow.

“What?” he asked.

The ghost of a smile formed on your lips, your gaze bashfully falling from his.

“You don’t have to go, you know… and I don’t have to go back to my homeworld. We can stay together, just the two of us.” As you spoke, your fingers trembled against his skin. “I know it’s a forlorn hope, and it’s asking a lot, but… I want to stay with you. I love you, Cody. I don’t want you to go.”

When your gaze met his again, your misty eyes pleaded with him.

“Will you stay with me, Cody? Please?”

Your words tore Cody asunder, a pain more agonizing than he’d felt on any battlefield. Pieces of him begged to stay with you—to never be without the love you showered him with, to be your protector for all his life. But as you could already tell, those pieces of him were not enough to shun his duty, his purpose. Even if he wished he could.

“Princess…” Cody sighed. From his first word alone, he saw the hope drain from your face. Though he wanted to subvert your fears—to say whatever it took to bring the light back to your eyes—he couldn’t. He owed you the full answer, as much as it hurt to hear—and to say. “I’m sorry. I love you, too… more than I ever thought was possible, I love you. But… I won’t let you give up everything for me. Your planet needs you, and my brothers need me. We can’t leave our lives behind.”

Dejected, your gaze fell from Cody’s. He could feel the tears slipping from your cheeks onto the soft fabric of his shirt. Guilt weighed on his chest, with every tear you shed crushing him further. Was he truly so cruel, to make the woman he loved more than life itself devastated like this? 

He knew he had more to say. He knew it would be nowhere near enough to temper the pain of your separation. But if he could not give himself to you, he would leave you with hope to hold onto in his absence.

Gently, he took your chin between his fingers, moving your gaze back to his again.

“But Princess… I promise this isn’t the end for you and me. Even if we’re apart, I’m still yours… and I will be until the day I die.”

He pressed a soft kiss between your eyes.

“The moment this war ends, I’m boarding the first transport to your homeworld. And no matter what anyone says, I’m marrying you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for the time we lost. Nothing else will matter to me but you.” Though halfhearted, he managed a smirk. “Understood?”

You smiled. Even through the tears that streamed down your face, you smiled. It was real, and it was beautiful.

“Understood,” you whispered.

Softly, Cody kissed away every last one of your tears, before meeting your lips once more.

The two of you still had the day, and you both agreed to make the most of it. Packing up the little life you’d built together went slowly, interrupted countless times by kisses, conversations, lovemaking... Cody cherished every moment. He never wanted to forget the warmth of your body in his arms, the taste of you on his lips, the sound of your laughter in his ears. Soon, his senses would once more be overwhelmed by the battlefield, and he would long for these comforts in his dreams. If he couldn’t stay with you, he at least wanted to carry your memory with him.

When at last the two of you boarded your ship, ready to return to your homeworld, you were content. The pain of your imminent parting had dulled, and in its place came the bittersweet comfort of knowing you’d enjoyed what little time you had to the fullest. 

The flight was uneventful, but unlike those first few days you’d spent with one another, the two of you had nothing to say. You merely held one another close, your adoration speaking for itself.

, , ,

“Your commander is to be commended for his service to this planet. Without him, I may very well not be here to retake my throne.”

You stood before the armored commander and his Jedi General, bowing your head politely to show your appreciation for their actions. In every sense, you were back where you belonged—in the halls of your palace, dressed in the finest regalia. The princess you were meant to be. But stunning though you were, Cody could not help but remember you as you had been during your time together. Dressed without concern for royal protocol, stripped down to your truest self… a side of you that was his alone to see.

From beside Cody, General Kenobi nodded graciously.

“He is an impeccable soldier. I am pleased to hear he took such good care of you,” General Kenobi said.

Cody’s heart raced, and he tried to keep a solemn face. His struggle was made all the more apparent with how easily you could mask any reaction, merely meeting the general with a kind smile.

“Indeed. I hope he is well rewarded for his assistance,” you said. For the briefest moment, your eyes met Cody’s, and your smile softened. “I’m afraid my gratitude is not nearly enough to thank him for all he has done.”

A ghost of a smile formed on Cody’s lips. He stood just a bit taller at your words.

“We’ll see to it that he is, your highness,” General Kenobi agreed. “But in the meantime, I’m afraid the war demands our attention. We wish you well, your majesty.”

You curtseyed politely before the two men.

“May luck follow you in your battles, Master Jedi,” you said. When you turned your attention once more to Cody, your expression faltered for the briefest moment. “And may luck follow you, Commander Cody.”

Cody gazed back at you, doing little to hide the feelings buried beneath the surface. Even as the General began the walk back to the transport, Cody remained—lingering just as long as he could. Savoring the sight of you until the last, desperate second. Praying to the Maker that his every thought of you could be conveyed through this last moment alone.

“Thank you… Princess.”

You smiled. Though the faintest sadness hid behind it, you meant it from the depths of your being. And even if it was unbecoming of a soldier, Cody smiled back at you. 

But he knew this was not the end. Even as he finally turned away, setting his helmet upon his head and boarding the LAAT, even as he looked back to you one last time before the shuttle doors closed, he knew.

He would see you again. 

AN: Thank you for getting to the end lol I hope you enjoyed it despite the intimidating wordcount LOL and I hope you like it @loving-the-cambridges ! Also, huge thank you to @ghostofskywalker for putting this event together and organizing, it was so much fun and I would love to participate again!✨✨

"""taglist""" - @shinyshayminflower @starrylothcat