#i love saying salamander what a fun word to say

[bathroomcryptid]

The Real Housewives of the Imperium

A/N: This is just some bullshit my brain vomited while I was procrastinating other things. Enjoyyy

Lore Drop™️ before we begin: In my personal headcanon of whatever the fuck this is, the wives of the Primarchs definitely act as a political arm of their respective legion/Primarch. They are the ones that involve themselves with the administration and nobility and royalty of the Imperium, and this is a role the Primarchs are happy enough to dump on them while they’re off fighting wars. It also means that the wives run into each other a lot.

Who Hates Each other?

-I would say no one really hates each other, but that’s a lie. The Red Lady and the Wolf Mother cannot under any circumstances be in the same room together, they will absolutely kill each other it’s not pretty.

-The Raven Mother, while not generally having any disagreements with anyone, is just around so rarely it’s hard to say she has any really good friends amongst the wives.

Who are friends?

-First, The Khatun has some freaky superpower that lets her get along with literally everyone and everyone loves her. She is literally everyone’s best friend and she loves it.

-Lady Lupercal, The Mother of the Salamanders, and The Khatun have seen everything. These were the first three spouses and the only Primarch spouses for a long time. Not only were they the first, but they were also the only three to have been with their husbands prior to the Emperor’s appearance. These three wrote the book and have a deep friendship because of their circumstances.

-The Lady of the Hydra, the Dark Lady, Lady Guilliman, Lady Lupercal, and the Lady of the Emperor’s Children are all somehow extremely good friends and it’s so bad for everyone’s health because these women SCHEME. If you fuck with them or their husbands they will have the entire Imperium legitimately thinking you sacrifice babies to pagan gods in your free time by the next cycle do not mess with them. They also will pull up to the function with the best gossip.

-A surprising friendship here - the Mother of the Salamanders and Lady Curze. Everyone was expecting the Red Lady and Wolf Mother round two with these two, but noooo, they get along like a house on fire and that’s what they’ll do to yours if you fuck with them. Whereas our Quintet of trouble up there will spin you around with their words, these two are more of the “corner you in a dark alley with a knife and threaten you within an inch of your life” type.

-The Lady of the Death Guard, Lady Aurelian, the Khatun, and Lady Kurze also float around each other because they are four of the genuinely nicest people you’ll ever meet and they subconsciously bond over it.

-The Wolf Mother and the Dark Lady are drinking buddies

How do they complain about their husbands/step-children to each other?

-Now when it comes to complaining? The Lady of Iron is there, first in line to start complaining about her husband and you know who’s right behind her? The Lady of the Iron Hands because I know in my heart of hearts she’s beefing with her step-children. Between these two there are literal hours of content.

-Even though those two are in a league of their own, most gatherings between these women usually devolve into complaints about their husbands.

-Fun fact: It’s actually during one of these complaint sessions that Lady Guilliman got the idea to ban paperwork from the bedroom.

-Although, some of these women are putting back breaking work into these men, so honestly, they deserve to complain a little

Who is talking up their husbands/step-sons?

-You know who’s not complaining? Lady Aurelian and the Lady of the Death Guard on god they love their husbands more than anything and no one knows why because they are so hot. Deadass, they pulled up to the function looking like goddesses with baked goods and everyone else was like “…sorry, the Imperium’s Next Top Model is like two doors down”, but no they were in fact in the right place and everyone is still surprised.

-Also, be careful when it comes to mentioning the step-children because there are some *cough* The Mother of the Salamanders *cough* who keep a whole book of all their kids and their accomplishments on them at all times and they will yap on about them for HOURS. The Mother of the Salamanders is like one of those dads that have pictures of their kids accordion style in their wallet and they open it up and a whole string of pictures falls out but she has too many kids so she needs a book.

-It’s also a perilous topic of conversation around The Lady of Angels and The Lady of the Emperor’s Children because they will pull out their step kid’s artwork and they will make you look at it and compliment it. For. Hours.

-It’s not unheard of for particularly these three to be at events with the step-children and not shut the fuck up about them.

…

The Mother of the Salamanders: *to the person next to her* This is my son [insert Salamander name here]. He is just the most wonderful son ever. He just got back from defending a planet from Xenos! Look at this picture of him right after they claimed victory! *holds up a picture of said Salamander covered in blood looking majestic on the battlefield* And look at this sword he just made! He’s so talented! *proceeds to open a whole scrapbook, flip to said son’s page, and fold out a ton of pictures because they wouldn’t all fit on the paper* And look at this-

Salamander: *blushing under his helmet*

…

The Mother of Angels: *to the person next to her* You know, my son here [insert Blood Angel name here] is quite the performer.

Random Noble Probably: Ah, really-

The Mother of Angels: Yes! He’s just so talented! *pulls out a stack of photos* You see, this is him playing the piano, his first instrument, and then here you see he decided to try out the harp. He’s absolutely excellent at both and then- *continues chattering on and on*

Blood Angel: *flattered that Mom cares so much*

…

The Lady of the Emperor’s Children: *sits down next to someone* Hello, lovely, how are you?

Random Noble: Ah, My Lady, I’m well and you?

Lady of the Emperor’s Children: Ah, I’m spectacular. Say, have you met my son [insert Emperor’s Child name here]?

Random Noble: We have not had the pleasure.

Lady of the Emperor’s Children: Well, this is [insert name again]. You know, he’s quite the talent, almost perfect at anything he tries his hand at. You know, he recently picked up painting. *starts rummaging and pulls out a stack of photos* See, here was his first one. I was so surprised at how good he was on his first try, and then he followed it up with this one and I was absolutely blown away! *Off she goes on a tangent*

Emperor’s Child: *can’t tell whether to be flattered or concerned that Mom has that many pictures of him*

…

-Though they aren’t the only three culprits of this, most of them have done this, the rest of them, though, usually shut up after about an hour or two and only have a few pictures on them of their step kids.

-cuts over to the Lady of the Iron Hands and her step-children who are trying to growl at each other around a very tired looking Ferrus Manus who is sat between them.

-though, most of these women love to brag about their step-children and how great at everything they are.

-The Lady of Iron is also another big culprit, she loves showing off her step-kids. She has also threatened Perterabo within an inch of his life when he’s ragged on his kids.

-The mental health of the Iron Warriors rose significantly once the Lady of Iron was apart of the picture.

-Almost as much as they like bragging about their husbands.

-As much as they complain, this is a group of the most fiercely loyal group of women you’ll ever get in a room together.

-They hear a whisper of a complaint about their husband? It’s over for you, you’ll be dead or wishing you were by dinner. They hear you praise their husband? You’re not leaving until they’ve told you every amazing thing their husbands have ever done in their lives.

The Ultimate Uniting Factor:

-There is one person, one man, in the entirety of the known and unknown galaxy who has the ability to bring these women, even the Red Lady and the Wolf Mother, together like nobody else: Big E

-If you mumble under your breath anything that could possibly be construed as a complaint against the Emperor of Mankind then you may as well have shined the Batsignal in the air because these women are coming out of the woodwork.

-Now they are all here and they have all involved you in a conversation that couldn’t be construed as anything but absolute treason if it were to come out of anyone else’s mouth

-If you were to put these women in a room together and point a camera at them and let them talk for a few hours, every single time it would devolve into irate ranting about Big E. You would never catch a kind word about Big E falling from their lips.

-The Emperor won’t step foot in the same zip code as these women because he understands that they are down every second of every day to literally evict him from life.

-The Emperor literally started a crusade as an excuse to leave Terra because he got word that the Khatun was on her way.

-Say what you will about the Emperor of Mankind, he’s smart enough to know that these women will end him where he stands if they ever get their hands on him.

[moodymisty]

I’ve wanted to ask this for a while and I’m glad I can finally ask. It not exactly a request, but I’m sure it still counts as a head canon ask

So in to regards to the original 20 legions, how would you rank having a harem of space marines from that legion

It’s no contest that Salamanders are pretty high on the list, and it’s safe to say that the Iron Hands are at the bottom of the list, just to give an example

I was just curious to know your opinion on where you would ranks the other legions and where they would fall on a hypothetical list

Author's note: I love this XD this ask was so much fun to think about let me have my astartes harem

Warnings: You have multiple space marine husbands i don't know what that qualifies as i just figured it would be a worthwhile warning

Dark Angels: How'd you even get a group of them together without killing eachother? Impressive.

Ultramarines: A good harem of space marines to have. Organized too, there may or may not be a spreadsheet of wife time that exists but they firmly deny it.

Alpha Legion: Sneaky harem, each of them likes to sneak into your room and try and have time with you alone, only to get busted by the others also doing the same thing.

Iron Warriors: Don't.

Luna Wolves/Sons of Horus: Not a bad choice, though if there's going to be a harem happening in his legion, it's probably going to be Horus, his wife, and his Mournival just being real here. He's not allowing shit like that to happen without his presence.

World Eaters: Don't. Don't put multiple of these guys in the same room it isn't going to end well. They're like bettas.

Word Bearers: They really go hard on the worshipping thing. You are their princess and it's cute at first, but they get very overbearing. At least they don't fight with eachother much.

Blood Angels: They are some of the best, the only major downside is all of them have an appetite, so there's probably not going to be many times where you aren't somewhat woozy.

Iron Hands: Terrible, but mostly because their aloof and stoic nature isn't as cute as Imperial fists.

Emperor's Children: They are all super dedicated and love showering you in gifts. Don't think too hard about where they came from.

Imperial Fists: You have the most emotionally constipated men ever. They are incredibly protective and you have never felt safer, but they also have the emotive potential of a piece of sheet metal.

Space Wolves: The most chaotic bunch of husbands ever. They are always fighting with eachother, mostly joking but it sometimes gets serious, and most of the time it isn't even about you. Are terrible at sharing, and someones lost a finger because of a brawl over wife rights.

Death Guard: Your stinky, stinky husbands are terrible. They really like bringing you flowers though.

Thousand Sons: They all argue with each other nonstop which is annoying, but every now and again they'll work together and you'll have the best, warp fuckery filled night of your life.

Salamanders: As you would've expected, you've won the lottery. You have some of the best astartes in the galaxy who are quite happy to have you as well. They all know how to share, and don't try and kill eachother which given previous legions is a definite plus.

Raven Guard: They're pretty calm by the standards of others on this list, so not the worst. It can get a bit annoying to manage each of their depressive pouting fits though.

Night Lords: DON'T? As fun as it might seem to be a barracks bunny for a group of chunky Night Lords, this is a terrible idea. There's a non 0% chance you'll end up as a snack, and not the fun kind.

White Scars: Probably the best harem to be honest, given they probably have actual harems on Chogoris so the whole thing is familiar. Each are equally proud of their wife and it's really cute.

[speckostardust]

@heropartnerweek Day 6 - Alone

A kind of prologue to a story I’m writing. It’s pretty long, and also made my beta reader cry a little at points. Have fun!

(Lore note before we start! When you aren’t particularly close to a Pokémon, you call them by their species name. It’s kind of like calling people by their last name in east asian countries or calling someone Mr., Ms., or Mx., but everybody already knows their last name.)

(also I guess this is kind of four stories but shhhh.)

His Brother Is Here For Him

Caterpie knew it was one of those days. Just by the way Charles, the town's resident hero, walked through the center. 

He knew by the way the Charmeleon's shoulders sagged, how his gaze was a couple degrees lower than normal, how his scarf was tied off-center, how his mouth wasn’t smiling or frowning, stuck in neutral, how the flame on his tail was dimmer, how it was a shade of red instead of a bright orange, bordering on white, like how it was before, how he could clearly see the blue-tipped tail his family was known for through the flame.

And worst of all, how his eyes were devoid of that clear and powerful determination Caterpie came to associate with him. 

As Charles passed by the bank, he saw Charizard, the one from Team ACT (Charles’ brother, Caterpie reminds himself), notice the depressed lizard going by, and turns to him, eyes full of concern. Caterpie doesn’t want to intrude on their conversation, but he’s too close to the salamander brothers he can't help but overhear.

“Hey, Charles, you doing alright today?” Charizard asks his brother, his deep baritone voice shining with worry. 

“I’m fine, Seymour,” Charles replies way too fast. “I’m just… going to get some work.”

“It’s okay to not be fine, Charles.” The Charizard slowly reaches out to him with one hand, the other on his chest. “You can tell me these things. I love you, you know.”

The smallest, faintest of smiles crosses the Charmeleon’s snout. “I know. I do too.”

Charizard’s grin grows. “C’mon, say it back.”

Charles’ smile grows just a bit more. “Love you too.”

Grinning even wider (Caterpie doesn’t know how he smiles so wide, it’s pretty much his entire face), Charizard takes his brother into an embrace, which the shorter one accepts and hugs back. 

Letting go of the Charmeleon, Charizard pats him on the shoulder. “Hey, why don’t we go out on a job together today? Just me and you. No Ashford, no Sadie.”

The two are silent for a second. “I’d like that,” Charles says after a second.

The two of them start walking towards the post office again, Charizard bidding farewell to his usual teammates. “It’ll be just like old times! Like when we were still kids and playing Rescue Team in the street!”

“Yeah,” Charles says, a smile actually appearing on his face.

“Whoah, don’t get too excited now! We’ve still got a job to do!” Charizard says, laughing as the two get further down the road, out of Caterpie’s hearing range. 

Caterpie knows what happened. He knows that Charles’ partner Sam, the Psy-Raichu that used to be a human, mysteriously disappeared one day, and how he couldn’t stop thinking about it some days, like today. But Caterpie sincerely hopes that he knows there are other people that care about him too.

---------

His Daughter Is Here For Him

(TW: copious drinking, alcoholism as an escape)

Spinda was very concerned by one of his customers today.

The Grovyle had come in right at opening time, 1:30 in the afternoon, and claimed a table by himself near the corner, but close enough to the bar. He had ordered a Grass Gummy “Juice” (yes it is in quotations, Spinda knows what it is, everyone who orders it does, it’s on the secret menu) and Spinda couldn’t even get a word out before the Grovyle’s ID was out and shown to him. Of course, it was just a formality, as Spinda had known Grovyle would come in with his partner, a Riolu, often. But this was the first time he had gotten a good look at his ID, and he knew his name was Jax now. 

He had always, and Spinda means always, come in with his partner Riolu before. He had never seen the two apart, even in the mornings outside of the bar. 

It was past closing now, 2:26 in the morning, and the Grovyle (Jax, Spinda reminds himself) had now had over ten servings of “Juice” (way more than he’s ever had before, Spinda notes), and had his head down on the table, his entire body shaking, the occasional sob loud enough to be heard.

Spinda cleared and cleaned the tables starting at the farthest away from Jax, not wanting to kick out the miserable looking Pokémon, while Wobbuffet and Wynaut cleaned up their recycling service. Eventually though, Spinda had cleaned all the tables except for one, arriving at the Grovyle’s table at exactly 2:41:24.

He looked down at the sobbing Pokémon. Gently, he placed his paw on his shoulder. “Hey buddy,” he says softly, but still loud enough so he knows the Grovyle can hear him. “We’re closed. Ya gotta go home now.”

With a sniffle, the Grovyle picks up his head, and nods. His eyes are bloodshot from crying, and tears stain his cheeks. “M’kay.”

As he attempts to stand, his legs start to wobble uncontrollably. His chair, already pushed out from under him, does nothing to keep him from falling to the floor. 

Quickly dropping down to help him up, Spinda wraps his arm around his own neck, helping the man to his feet. “Y’alright, Grovyle?”

The sobbings from the reptile grow louder. “I’m sorry,” he says between sobs. “I’m… I’m useless, I can’t do anything right.”

Spinda starts to tear up himself, listening to Jax’s self-deprecating words, unable to say anything. He helps him get to the door, while Jax continues apologizing.

“I-I-I don’t know why N l-l-left,” the Grovyle says. “H-h-he just disappeared, and, and, he left his stuff, and, and I hope he’s okay, he would never leave me alone on purpose, something must've happened, he wouldn't leave, but I’m, I’m too stupid to know what happen…”

Spinda keeps his mouth shut. He didn’t know what to say, he was never good in situations like this. 

"I-I-I wish I w-w-w-was…" Jax breaks out in loud sobs, openly weeping as they emerge at the crossroads.

"Dad!" a shout calls. Running from Treasure Town's entrance is a small blue Pokémon, about as tall as Spinda himself, with feelers on their head and a watery look to them. In all his years, Spinda's never even seen a Pokémon like this. "I'm so sorry, I'm Manaphy, this is my dad, I'm really sorry you had to carry him, I can take him here, I'm really sorry," they say hurriedly, all in one breath.

"It's quite alright," Spinda says as Manaphy slips under Jax’s other arm. "I was planning to carry him to wherever he needed to be. It's no problem."

Manaphy attempts to bow, but with her father on her shoulder, she finds it difficult. "Thank you so much for taking him out here. Umm… goodbye, I guess. Thanks."

Spinda watches as the father-child duo walk away towards Treasure Town. He hopes that Jax knows that he has people that care about him. 

He also hopes that he doesn't come back until he can control his drinking problem.

---------

Her Friend Is Here For Her

Quagsire was heartbroken over the entire thing. He loved watching Toki and Nara walking past his little booth everyday, going out for jobs. The Tepig and Oshawott were always talking, hmm? Well, it was more like Toki was talking to Nara, and Nara added something in occasionally. It was charming.

Then the split happened. Well, that’s what Quagsire was calling it. Catchy, hmm? It was when Toki had suddenly disappeared one morning, with no witnesses seeing her leave. Nor had she told anyone she was going anywhere. Nor had she brought any of her supplies with her. It was very strange, mmm, for Toki to leave Nara and the Paradise so suddenly like that. Was she carried off into the night by some kind of mysterious force, that may or may not even be a Pokémon itself?

Mmm, speculation, Quagsire thinks.

The Oshawott herself walks by Quagsire’s assembly, dragging her feet through the dirt. Nara’s eyes were dead to the outside world, and she was mumbling something to herself.

“Nara!” he calls out. “Nara dear! Could you come over here for a moment?”

After a moment, Nara turns towards Quagsire. She waddles over to him. “Mm,” she mumbles. Quagsire’s plan step one complete.

“Nara, would you, hmm, come with me for the day? I’m sure you could skip work for the day.” Nara looks at Quagsire, and he looks back at the absence of light in them. “Please?” he adds.

Almost reluctantly, Oshawott slowly nods her head. Taking the confirmation, Quagsire steps out of the doorway of his tent and gestures for Nara to go in. She does so slowly, and Quagsire follows her in, letting the door flap down. Quagsire plan step two complete.

Time to get the girl to talk, hmm?

“Take a seat, mmm, on the couch, would you?” he says, sitting on the adjacent chair. 

A moment passes in silence, as Nara sits. “What’re… you doing?”

“I am, mm, simply here for you to talk to. Vent. Feel free to talk about anything on your mind. I am a great listener, hmm?”

Quagsire’s plan step three, get Nara to do therapy, in progress.

Nara stares at him blankly.

Seconds pass, mmm, and then minutes.

“I miss her,” she finally says, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “I really, really miss Toki. She was my best friend ever, but then she disappeared.”

Quagsire watches on, waiting for the Oshawott to continue.

“I just…” she stops for another pause, putting her thoughts into words. “I don’t know why she left. Why? Why did she leave?”

Another pause, hmm, as Quagsire waits again.

“I am… I’ll… I’ve searched the entire continent, just looking for her.” She puts her head in her paws. “And there’s nothing. No trace of her. Like she just… disappeared off the planet, like after we stopped the Bittercold.”

She pauses again. 

“I just…” the tears start to leak from her eyes. “I really miss her.”

The little Oshawott breaks into uncontrolled sobs, finally letting out all the built up emotions. She lays back into the small couch as Quagsire walks over to hug her.

Hmmm, new Quagsire plan step four: get Nara an actual therapist.

---------

His Father Is Here For Him

(TW: self harm, cutting, mental breakdowns, self-deprecation, suicidal ideation)

Nuzleaf knows his adopted son was always quiet. It was just his personality. He very rarely spoke over twenty words in a day, never any more than three words at a time. He had preferred to speak in sign language, though he was never the best at it. But when Champ stopped communicating completely, Nuzleaf noticed.

Champ’s best friend and Expedition Team partner, a Piplup named Fin, had strangely disappeared about a month ago. After days of searching (and skipping school, but Nuzleaf doesn’t really care for that) and no progress, the Chespin had all but locked himself in his room. He only left to eat, only a couple berries at a time, and spent his time curled up in a ball on his bed, crying. 

So many of his other friends from school came by to try and talk to him. Even the members of the Expedition Society came to Nuzleaf’s front door.

Still, Champ hadn’t spoken, or signed, or even reacted to their presence. 

It was late at night when Nuzleaf heard it. He had woken up to get some water. But when he got to the kitchen itself…

He heard a quiet, but intense sobbing coming from Champ’s room.

He quickly made his way to the room, as silently as he could, and peered in. Sitting on his bed was the Chespin, a half-eaten oran berry next to him, slouched down and facing away from the door, but still tilted towards it so Nuzleaf could see his face, with a harvesting knife in his right hand and his left arm decorated with varying levels of cuts.

Nuzleaf, startled, inhales sharply, and his adoptive son hears it, snapping his head in Nuzleaf’s direction. Champ, also startled, hastily throws the knife into his bag, and hides his wounded arm behind his back, picking the oran berry up with his other. Tears leak from his eyes as he trembles, seemingly terrified that Nuzleaf found him doing this.

Nuzleaf takes a tentative step towards his son. Champ flinches, the grassy quills on his head shaking. “I’m… not mad,” Nuzleaf says tentatively. “I’m not angry… I’m not… I just want to know why. I just want to understand.”

The Chespin, still trembling, slowly raises both of his hands, dropping the oran berry. Nuzleaf can clearly see the cuts on the boy’s arm. Oh Arceus, he thinks, none of that was there this morning, has he been healing his cuts everyday with oran berries? All the scars on his arms, he assumed they came from his adventuring, are they from this?

I, Champ starts, but pauses, thinking of his next words, cut myself. He flinches, physically startled by his own silent words. I… if I can’t keep one friend, one person close to me, just… He signs so fast that Nuzleaf can’t keep up with it, then he throws his hands to his sides. He picks them back up and starts to sign again. I don’t deserve to be happy. I should be by myself. Alone. Like how I should be.

Nuzleaf can feel the tears on his cheeks. Slowly he makes his way to the broken child. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry Champ. Ya shouldn’t be feeling like this. Nobody should. You’ve saved so many people, you have so many friends. Yer friend, I’m sure, is just missing, and she wants to come back, I know it. Both of you know each other almost if not as well as you know yerselves. You are… You are worth it. You are worth caring for, worrying for, crying for. You are not a burden. People care about you and worry for you because they want to, because you make them happy. You are not alone.”

Champ tears up, swinging his arms around his father and bawling into his chest. He makes some attempts at speaking, but Nuzleaf pats his back, letting him know it’s okay for him to not speak right now.

The two stay in their embrace until the sun threatens to come in through the window. Nuzleaf is the first to stand up.

“Let’s go get those cuts healed, Champ,” he says, taking his son’s hand. Champ shakily nods as he uses Nuzleaf to stand. “We should… probably get you a professional therapist too, huh?”

Hesitantly, Champ nods, taking the first step on a new journey.

[elephant-in-the-pride-parade]

2023 year in review: 9, 10, 21

9. What fic meant the most to you to write?

The most meaningful were all the fics for @maliciousalice and @baylardo's Threshold AU (@voyagerihardlyknowher is their art blog that has inspired all the fics!)

Salamorphosis, A take on the AU's premise that Kathryn and Tom partially regress back into their evolved state.

Special shout out for Lesson Plans, A look at Season 7 in the AU. This was a joint fic with @jellybeansarecool completed in June of this year (I can't believe that's in the 2023 column. that seems like forever ago!) It filled me with so much joy The longest collaboration I've ever done and made a wonderful friend out of the effort.

For Just One Day Let's Only Think About Love, A threshold AU style ending for the book To Lose the Earth

Tête-à-Tête, Killing game AU with some Kathryn/Karr which was a really fun tragic romantic angle to explore for Karr's character.

Brumating in a Winter Wonderland, A fluffy post-Endgame homecoming oneshot

Lost and Found (Happy Birthday Alice!), which I have been enjoying for the final week of 2023. A fun adventure-family-hurt/comfort fic with some salamander transformation shenanigans.

10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

I answered this in this post - but it was every word I managed to put down for Unbroken. I'm so close to done with that one, I can taste it!

21. Share your favorite piece of dialogue.

This exchange between Commander Tyssess and Admiral Janeway is from the Prodigy fic The Timepast (Set on the Voyager-A, post season one):

“Mr. R’El participated in the planned course adequately. Although his on-duty attitude could use some work.” “I’ll say.” The admiral snorted as Tysess settled into an armchair. She reviewed the PADD, adding. “I have had interns shadowing me wax on about my accomplishments and my service record and tout their own intelligence and their parris squares trophies until they were blue in the face. But never in my life have I had a young man waste his entire command rotation sighing over a girl.”  Tysess and B’Elanna shared a look. “Admiral. Permission to speak freely?” Tysess asked. “Denied.” Tysess took a long sip of his own coffee and carried on anyway. “You and R’El deserve each other.”

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓

╰┈➤ ��� xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : 5+1 trope, pwp (porn with plot), porn with feelings (a. LOT.), poetic descriptions, fluff, with slight angst undertones, references to cards “moment’s respite” “close feelings” “fragment of time” "lightseeking obsession",  unrequited but actually requited love, yearning, miscommunication, love confessions, reader is drunk in scene 5, slow dancing, kissing, heavy petting, grinding, fingering, clit play, slight nipple play, multiple orgasms, first time sex (with each other), vaginal sex (raw), needy sex, creampie, praise, dirty talk, use of pet names “angel” “my starlight”. lmk if i missed any tags !! ((slightly unedited))

wc : 13.4k (😭)

an : PHEW OK. i'm going back to my roots guys ... this is LONG, embarRASINGLY LONG but. if you want to skip to the Fun Part, that's in scene 6 (which is like. more than half of the entire thing really) !! also, play the song as you read i promise you won’t regret it <3

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny [sign up here!] / +tyty @unluckywisher for beta reading a part of this the other day 🥺

AO3 LINK 🔗

Five times he couldn't say “I love you”... And one time he actually did.

—ᴏɴᴇ.

“Do you think Lemonette will finally stop bothering us for a while?”

You stifled a yawn as you walked up to your apartment, Xavier’s own footsteps following not too far behind you. The yellow wanderer had been roaming the city causing trouble, and you thought you’d gotten rather sick of seeing its face around—especially now that it had kept you both awake, the threads of sleep having slipped from you both the instant your watch went off. In that moment, a glance at the time told you that it was well past midnight. The sky surrounding the building was darker than dark, light from neither the moon nor stars enough to bring you out of it, the only comfort being the dim gleam of the hallway lights.

“We gave it a good beating, at least…” came his reply, and you shouldn’t have been so surprised to hear the grogginess present in his voice—as if he hadn’t been a large part of the reason Lemonette was rather… annihilated, for lack of a better word.

You smiled.

“Yeah, and no less thanks to you for it,” you chuckled, stretching as the door to your apartment finally came into view. You realized that you’d never once thought you wanted to be in bed any more than you did in that moment.

A momentary silence fell, and you stood by the doorway, turning around to face him.

Xavier remained still.

He seemed contemplating, scanning over your figure, fingers reaching out tentatively… only to fall back to his sides.

“Xavier?”

The call of your voice prompted a shake of his head, and a hint of embarrassment flashed briefly in his eyes.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled.

It wasn’t nothing.

“You’re not… injured, are you?”

A smile spread on your lips, then.

So he was worried.

“It’s just a scratch,” you shrugged. “You know how it is. Just the usual stuff, I don’t even need first aid for it. It’ll be fine.”

Still, he didn’t move.

“So… Will you be able to sleep okay?”

It was almost comical how he said it, what with how obviously sleepy his own gaze had turned. Eyelids heavy, slow blinks in your direction, as if everything he was doing in that moment was with the intention of conserving as much energy as he could… He was tired. Just as tired as you were. Just as jolted out of his sleep as you had been.

You nodded your head, and reached over to give his shoulder a pat.

“I’ll be okay. Really. Maybe it’s since I’m tired from all of that, but I feel like I could get some pretty good rest! I don’t want to keep bothering you with my sleeping problems, anyway…”

Your eyes met, then.

Xavier’s searched yours, as if trying to ascertain that you weren’t just brushing it off. And this time, he seemed to let impulsivity win—or, whatever it was that made him reach out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

His touch was soft. Gentle. Much like it always was; much like he always was, especially when it came to you. It lingered, the feeling of his skin against your ear, settling to rest by your cheek—and perhaps that was what made it feel more intimate, and soothing, than it otherwise would have been.

You didn’t know it could be so comforting just to look at someone like this.

To share a pause in thought, to enjoy the presence of each other… to have a little bit of your worries melt away the way that they did…

The moment offered more solace than you thought it ever could.

But Xavier tended to have that effect on you.

He always made you feel safe.

“Xavier?” You mumbled, your hand reaching up to rest on his wrist.

“Mh?”

“Um… Thanks. It’s not so bad, even if Lemonette had to bother us tonight. Since… I have you, after all.”

And at that, you watched him smile.

Somehow, the dim lighting around his figure made him appear all the more ethereal than he usually did.

“I think the same,” he nodded.

His hand dropped back to his side, then. His mouth opened and closed for a moment, as if trying to weigh what to say next, before he took a prompt step backwards.

“...Goodnight.”

It was soft, the way he said it. You could have missed it if you weren’t paying attention, and something told you that it wasn’t quite… what he had meant to say.

Still, you smiled.

“Goodnight, Xavier.”

In the end, it wasn’t so bad, like this.

—ᴛᴡᴏ.

How many days was it, now, that you’d found yourself in such a situation?

You stood in his kitchen, hands on your hips, looking at the tray of cookies in front of you. Much to your dismay, they were mostly charred, or otherwise deformed, or otherwise… much too expanded to be considered presentable. Your gaze raised to meet a very expectant one, blue eyes nearly twinkling, and you thought—how could he be so confident?

“Xavier,” you started, and you crossed your arms for emphasis.

It was in an instant that you saw him deflate. If he had ears like a rabbit—a thought you’d had for quite some time now—you were certain they would be folding over his face in near-mortification.

Or guilt, perhaps.

You weren’t quite sure which one it was.

You were sure, however, that it was difficult to scold him properly with the kind of expression he was giving you.

You reached up to scratch your cheek; “It’s not terrible… I mean, you’re getting better…”

“...I followed your instructions, though…” You watched him lean over the counter to take a look at what had become of the cookies, and then he, too, found his nose wrinkling in distaste. “They don’t turn out very well, do they?”

“On the plus side… They don’t taste bad!”

To make a point, you held up a cookie and took a cheerful bite.

“...Well, you know. Aside from the burnt ones, I guess…”

A pout formed on his face with ease, and with the way he’d been leaning over, you were able to notice the slight flutter of his eyelashes with every blink.

For a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

“How are you so good at baking?” he sighed. “I know you’ve been trying to help… But is there something you’re not telling me?” His voice sounded a little dejected, more emotion seeping into it than usual, and you could see his desire to learn reflected cleanly in his gaze. Xavier wasn’t often this expressive. You knew he was genuine with all of this, and especially with all of the impromptu baking lessons that he’d dragged you into.

Not that you ever complained, of course.

To you, any moment you got to spend with him was one of comfort; an opportunity you could never bring yourself to pass up on. 

Even if these moments often ended up in…

You took another look at the cookies.

Well, burnt things.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You knew you weren’t supposed to, and you watched his expression change from one of gloom to that of bewilderment. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as if trying to understand your sudden outburst—and with Xavier, you found, it was this expression that you so unabashedly adored. The confusion made him seem akin to a lost puppy, innocence in his eyes unveiled, a sincere glimpse into the person he didn’t often let you see.

This, with the way the sunlight streamed in through the window, the placement of his kitchen aptly weaved into the path of the sun, made the moment all the more heartwarming.

This was why you could never decline his invitations.

If only to see a little bit more of him the way that you were…

Your laughter settled into a grin, and you shook your head.

“Nothing, it’s just… Xavier, you’re so… So…” You made vague gestures with your hands, trying to find a suitable word. “So cute.”

The confusion in his face no less settled at that, but he crossed his arms. “...Well, so are you.”

You paused.

Your eyes widened.

In retrospect, it wasn’t as if this was anything new. Quips like this would often come out of nowhere; you’d learned to get a little bit used to it. That was the Xavier you were familiar with.

But there was something about the way he said it this time that made your heart skip another beat.

It had been doing that quite often in his presence, as of late.

The softness, perhaps; the directness, perhaps—or maybe it was the way the depth in his eyes made it seem a little more real. He met your gaze head-on, never wavering, never taking back what he’d said.

But in another split second, that moment was gone—and just as you had meant to tease him, now it didn’t seem like the words held much weight for him. There was an easy smile on his face, his eyes softened ever so slightly, but then he reached out for his own cookie to taste. And it was almost as if he hadn’t said anything at all. It was so typical of him to act so nonchalant about it.

Perhaps, part of you wished that he had said something more.

You cleared your throat.

“A- anyway,” you dusted some crumbs off of your clothes, “you can just—you know, try again later? You could follow along with a demonstration, or something… Maybe it was a little much just to recount the recipe to you. But, I really still think you’re improving! This’s a lot better than the last time we baked already, so with more practice I think you—”

Your words felt swallowed down in your throat, his eyes watching you with such intensity that you nearly had to take a step back.

“You’re amazing.”

Huh?

“You’re good at a lot of things. I don’t think I know what I’d be doing with all of this if you weren’t here.”

Again he spoke, with the follow of silent words that, to you, seemed like they never really made it out of his mouth. Like there was something more, something else he would have loved to say out loud, but he… didn’t.

As if he were holding back.

He took the tray from you, setting it aside, his eyes following the sunlight. You noticed him squinting slightly when he found its source, acting, as always, as if he didn’t just say something that could get the butterflies in your stomach acting up. As if the push and pull that had consumed most of the days you’d been spending together as of late didn’t… exist.

You almost didn’t know what to make of it, until he opened his mouth to speak again.

“Can we do this again, sometime?”

“I—huh?”

“I like baking with you.”

His head turned back to face you, and there was a small smile playing on his lips—one that mirrored the one you’d had just moments ago.

“Let’s do this again sometime.”

It wasn’t a question anymore, but a statement.

You swallowed down the fluster in your throat, feeling as if the implications of his words were a lot more than just… This.

But you offered a smile. “O…okay. Yeah. I… I would like that, too.”

It was so difficult to say no to him.

…Not that you’d ever want to say no, anyway.

—ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ.

He would do that quite often, you found.

Your eyebrows knitted together as you glanced up from your textbook, only to find him, chin in his hand, not at all paying attention to the book laid out in front of him. Blue eyes bore into your own, and though that selfsame flurry of butterflies whirled around in your chest, you only crossed your arms at him in response.

The library was quiet.

You were the only ones here at this hour, quite early into the morning, save for a few people scattered in their seats here and there. The only sounds were a few hushed whispers every now and then, the rustling of paper, perhaps the sound of a book closing, a chair scraping. Menial sounds, if only to add to the environment.

Sure, it was a perfect conduit for thoughts to wander, for sleeping to be induced, but—but he promised. He promised to help you study for this exam, or at the very least, that he would study with you so you wouldn't feel alone in it.

Yet here he was, not taking it as seriously as you'd hoped him to.

“What are you even looking at?” you nearly whined, your voice lower so as not to disturb the people around you that were reading. “A library is made for reading, you know…”

You didn't know how to feel at the expression he gave you, rather relaxed and unconcerned, head moving in a little nod. He gestured towards the open book before him; “I have a book,” he spoke matter-of-factly.

You gave him a pout.

“Yes, but you're not reading it…”

“I'm… doing more important things.”

“...Like what?”

“Studying.”

You couldn't tell if he was being serious, but his words definitely made it seem like he was playing around. In fact, had his tone not been so direct, you could have thought he was mocking you.

“Are you making fun of me?” you huffed. “If you didn't want to come here with me, you could've just said so, you know.” You made a face, and then promptly rolled your eyes. “You're not even looking at your book. What are you studying, then?”

And then he smiled. 

And it was less irritating to you than it was worrisome, for there was something about that smile that made you feel caught. 

Though in what, you weren't quite sure yet.

“Xavie—”

“You.”

You blinked, your words cut off, your brows furrowed in confusion. “...What?”

“You, I'm studying you.”

He reached over and brushed against your hair, knuckles just barely grazing over the side of your head, nearly akin to a slight flutter of the wind. In an instant, you felt a faint trace of dust fall down onto the table. Your eyes followed it, the moment passing in silence.

You bewilderedly blew it away.

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak just yet, only quite having the mental fortitude to look back up at him, the confusion on your face ever more evident.

“There was something in your hair,” he smiled.

Your face flushed, then, and you weren't unaware of the particular gleam in his eyes. He might have been stating the truth, but he was obviously still… teasing.

“Xavier—!”

A finger to your lips, this time, and there was no holding back the smile that formed on his own.

“Shhh,” he spoke quietly, “it's a library. You have to be quiet.”

You couldn't help the way your cheeks bloomed into shades of pink, and you lowered your head back to your book, defeated.

He didn't know the things he made you feel.

There was little sense left in you to find some kind of retort.

—ꜰᴏᴜʀ.

“You have kind of a funny interest in all of these legends,” you mused, following him with more careful footsteps.

Your eyes focused on the cone of ice cream in your hands, delighted at the appearance that you were promised. Though you had to plod through such a touristy place such as this for it, you were glad to have the bunny-shaped sundae cone finally right there in front of you. Holding it up a little, you tilted your head to compare the side-by-side image of the vanilla ears with Xavier, and smiled to yourself.

It kind of looked like him.

Little white ears matched the shade of his hair, and you figured it was maybe just missing those blue eyes you loved so much.

The person in question, on the other hand, seemed to have other ideas on his agenda.

He barely noticed your little self-satisfying antics, brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the navigation app you’d installed on his phone. It was endearing how adamant he’d been on sticking with an old-fashioned map; this was a side to him you found that you adored dearly. Moving to circle around him, your eyes shone at his expression of concentration, his eyes narrowed, lips jutted out slightly into somewhat of a pout.

God, you really…

The thought remained uncompleted, and you cleared your throat.

“Xavier,” you reached up to lower his phone, shuffling closer to him to take a peek. “I really don’t think it’s that far… If you’re having trouble with it, just give it to me and—”

The phone screen shut as his finger moved over the lock button, and he promptly put it back into his pocket. A little smile, and a shake of his head, and then his arms were steering you forward as if nudging you along to continue walking.

“Nope,” he said, with a shake of his head to emphasize it. “I’ve studied it enough. We just have to walk a little bit in that direction. We’ll see the lovers’ bridge, then.”

Your eyebrows raised in amusement.

You let him steer you, felt the way his hand moved from over your shoulder to back by his sides, your hands brushing every so often. The only way you could distract yourself from it was to stare intensely at the ice cream in your other hand, one that had endured a few little kitten licks from you, but had its shape more obviously affected by the warmer temperature around you. You wondered, in the back of your mind, if it would last before you got to the bridge at all.

“Why do you want to go there, anyway?” You risked a glance back up at him as you spoke.

This little trip, in and of itself, had been planned on very much a whim—or, you supposed, not very planned, at all. But you could recount the few times you had been out with Xavier, and they had often been on your invite. This time, it was he who had insisted on dragging you out along with him, all to find the so-called Lovers’ Bridge that was infamous for its ‘good fortune’.

The white pedestrian bridge, stretching over the river in a sleek, sophisticated figure, had been used as a filming location for a number of romance movies. Of course, these were films that you had seen… But ones you knew Xavier had yet to, especially with the way he usually avoided all those sappy titles in the first place.

It was odd enough that he'd want to visit the bridge for such a reason… Yet there was more.

And you had found out about those reasons not more than a day before you’d left.

Because more than filming locations, was the superstition behind the bridge—a bridge that had completed its construction on Valentine’s Day, thus earning its name. And it had been swirling with promises and legends ever since, ones that reached the ears of even those outside the area. According to what had spread online, crossing the bridge with the one that you loved would ensure a long and happy life with them as a couple. And something churned in the pit of your stomach as you mulled over the thought, tongue darting out for another few licks on the treat that you held.

The taste of vanilla was cooling on your mouth, a welcoming rush of sugar that served as a means for you to ground yourself a little.

Because you and Xavier were not a couple.

In fact, you were far from it.

You were friends; yes, neighbors; yes, colleagues; yes.

Lovers?

The thought brought a blush to your cheeks, because you wished that you were. And you were aware that sometimes, the both of you tended to act like you were. You spent nearly every moment that you could together, the lingering warmth of his touches and his presence near you whenever he could be near you were burned into your memory.  The rumours at the Association didn’t fall on deaf ears, either. You knew what people were saying about the both of you, and you oftentimes wished them true—you did. The affections you held for him were undeniable.

But that was quite frankly not the reality you lived in.

Xavier had never been clear about it with his signals, nor direct about his feelings, nor—nor anything else. Nothing official had ever occurred between either of you, not in this oddly-structured game of tag, so shrouded in this push and pull, where the rules remained ambiguous, and where the outcomes presented just as vague.

And it was a terrifying thing to assume.

Yet, without properly explaining why… he had been adamant all day to walk straight into it—the bridge, its surrounding legend, all of it. 

“When good luck is involved, it’s better to believe they exist. You have nothing to lose.”

Those were words he was fond of saying, and the only words he would ever use to give you a reason.

The same could be said for this moment.

You found yourself being thoughtful as you fell into step with him, eyes scanning your surroundings, watching the couples that seemed to float in and out of your peripheral vision. There weren’t as many of them as you thought there would be—the bridge was now in your line of sight, its pearly-white structure jumping out against the backdrop of the setting sun. At the very front of its steps was a little bed of flowers; blue, you noted, tinted ever so slightly with the swirl of cotton candy from the clouds above.

The river below it rippled with a darkening pinkish hue.

The sun would be below the horizon in just a few moments.

And at the same time, in perhaps a minute or two, the bridge would be lit up in an equally captivating display of beautiful colors.

Even without the legend, you wouldn’t have minded getting to see something so pretty.

“...Your ice cream is melting.”

You blinked at his voice, your eyes drawing away from the scenery and back to him.

It could have been the shadows of the sunset that made him shine a little brighter in your eyes, now, that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to formulate any sort of response.

His eyes softened, the gentle breeze brushing through his hair.

Sometimes, you thought, there was something about him so inexplicably out of reach. Yet here he was, giving you attention, reaching for your hands, allowing for the heat from his skin to linger upon your own for even just a moment…

And then in these moments, you couldn’t help but think of how lucky you were.

“Aren’t you going to finish that?” he mumbled. There was a slight shift of his gaze towards the cone in your hand, before he looked at you again. “It might make your hand all sticky if we go and walk on the bridge right now…”

He was right, of course.

Your own gaze drifted down to the hand with your ice cream, now less of a rabbit, and more of the standard scoop of ice cream for all that it had melted. Parts of it had even begun to drip down onto your hand, but you had barely noticed the feeling.

“Oh, I… I mean, we can wait for the lights to turn on first, so…”

Blinking again as if to snap yourself out of your reverie, you lifted your hand—

Xavier beat you to it.

He had his thumb and index finger wrapped around your wrist, slowly pulling it towards him.

A smile.

You didn’t miss that smile, how could you? Slight, and perhaps, barely visible otherwise, but your breath caught in your throat—Something had you gravitating towards him, nearly entranced in the heat of his stare, sucking in a sharp intake of breath as his tongue darted out to lick at the stains of vanilla that ran over your palm.

You were blushing, probably.

You couldn’t even tell, at that point.

Soft, tiny little kitten clicks at your skin, almost as if to clean up the mess—you couldn’t really have bothered to focus on the expression you were making, feeling your own heart beat so loudly out of your chest that you were certain he could hear it.

“Xavier…” you mumbled.

His eyes twinkled, and he moved his mouth to the treat in your hand, taking a bite of his own.

“Can’t let it go to waste, right?” he licked at his lips.

The clusters of people, then, long-forgotten in the moment you had dared to share with each other, let out a resounding exclamation at amazement, as a click resounded in the air and the bridge before the both of you erupted into dazzling colors. Yet, your skin still tingled at the feeling of his touch, and you felt dazed as you turned your eyes back to him.

“I guess we, um… We should finish this before we go…?”

He chuckled, and then he nodded—“I… Think vanilla isn’t a bad flavor.”

—ꜰɪᴠᴇ.

The spin in your head made your vision hazy. You couldn’t remember, anymore, what time it was—only that your system had become intoxicated long past coherence, and the grass you sat on had a strangely soothing texture to it. And in front of you, right then, was that red, empty solo cup you’d brought with you outside.

You vaguely made out some loud music, and a voice in the background—Tara’s, probably. But you couldn’t be bothered to decipher what she was saying. You didn’t register that she was actually right beside you, trying to keep you engaged in conversation, a hand over your shoulder.

How long it had been like this?

You weren’t quite sure, either.

What you could remember was that Tara had planned a little girls’ party of her own, and it had gotten bigger than anticipated… And you supposed you’d ended up drinking more than you’d expected to. Eventually, you found yourself out in her front yard. It was the night breeze that felt comforting, despite the cold. There were stars out that night—a few of them shone brilliantly above you, and though you weren’t looking at them anymore, their presence made you smile.

It was only when a shadow passed over your figure that you looked up again, head lolled a little to the side, rapid blinks trying to steady on the person in front of you.

“There you are!” Tara stood up from beside you, dusting off some of the dirt from her pants. With a grunt, she managed to pull you up, though your weight naturally rested on her shoulders. Unbeknownst to you, she let out a pleading sigh. “Sorry, Xav… I didn’t notice how much she drank until she went wandering out here…”

Oh…

Xav.

The nickname registered in your head, and your vision, a little less blurry at the snap the information had given you, managed to form Xavier’s figure in front of you. His hair was a little unruly, the white hoodie so familiar on him a little more disheveled than you knew it to be—his eyes, too, held a certain level of concern that you were able to make out.

He had probably been sleeping.

There was a twinge of guilt that lapsed over your face, but it didn’t last—his presence brought on a giddiness you couldn’t have thought to control, and a lopsided grin easily came to prove it.

You slid off of Tara to fall straight into his arms; the scent of his laundry detergent had you sighing. It was almost by instinct that your arms wrapped around his waist.

“Xavier…”

A nuzzle against his chest had Tara clearing her throat then, and she made a pointed gesture.

“Well! She couldn’t stop talking about you, so I figured you were the person I should call! Sorry, really! I didn’t realize it would get this out of hand, but I do need to get to the other guests, too, so I hope I can leave her in your hands! Thanks, Xavier!”

You didn’t notice her leave, not until you felt a warm hand on your back, a familiar, soothing voice speaking softly into your ear.

“Hey… Let’s get you home. Let me just… Call a cab, and—”

“...But you’ll just leaveeee…”

He paused.

“I’m… Taking you home, so you can get some rest.”

“T’my place?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ll stay w’me?”

The silence that followed only had you clinging to him tighter.

“Seeee…! You’re not answering! You’re gonna leave me ‘gain… N’I dunno when I’ll see you ‘gain, n’theenn…!”

Your voice trailed off on its own, resorting to nuzzling against him, feeling as if parting from him in this moment would never give you another to hold him so close like this.

But it didn’t last.

The fact was: Xavier was gentle with you; still.

Patient. 

Enough to pry you away from him, enough to get you to comply to get in the cab with him, enough to usher you up to your apartment and unlock the door… until the familiar warmth of your couch had you happily sprawling out, hugging the pillows close to you.

You barely had any recollection of what had happened; it was enough for you to know that he had been with you.

That he was still with you.

“Xavie…”

Your hands reached out for his, registering late that you’d been reaching for the glass of water he was holding rather than the hands themselves.

And you frowned.

“Huh? C’mere… Wan’ hold you…”

You made out the shake of his head, gentle gestures to sit you up properly on the couch.

“You have to drink water first,” came his reply.

His voice was so soft.

You could let it get to your head, the mere sound of it bringing a silly grin onto your face, a giggle bubbling past your throat. “Oooh… Can you say it again?”

It was clearly nonsensical, and you noted yet another shake of his head, the patience in his eyes ever evident despite all of your antics. It could only make you giggle even more, your hands falling to your lap, expression clearly very much out of it.

Until—

“Angel… You’re too drunk. You really need to drink this.”

Angel.

The giggles, the laughter, all stopped abruptly. You felt your expression shift into that of wonder, your eyes wide and blinking curiously. Somehow, the nickname sent all kinds of flutters into your stomach—ones you couldn’t bring yourself to understand, especially in the state that you were in.

You leaned forward:

“You’re right… You’re like an angel…”

Your voice was light and airy, nearly akin to a gasp, and perhaps you might have giggled it off again had Xavier not reacted with a sigh. Because before you could do anything else, he moved his hand to rest gently over the curve of your spine, bringing the glass up to your lips.

It registered, then.

Your response was immediate, as if nearly conditioned, allowing him to tilt the glass upwards. You found yourself eagerly gulping at the water as it flowed down your throat; you hadn’t realized how much you needed the water. You were suddenly all the more grateful he had given it to you, gasping for air once the glass had been drained empty, and then blinking to look at him through hazy eyes.

“Better?” he murmured.

The hand on your back gave you soft, gentle rubs as he set the glass down, and then he reached up to brush the strands of hair from out of your face.

Immediately, you stilled. All traces of your giggles seemingly washed away with the water you’d drunk. You certainly didn’t feel any less intoxicated than earlier, but his touch through your shirt, and the soft caress on your cheek, felt all the more heightened that this moment felt nearly surreal to you. It was then that you could notice those favorite blue eyes of yours, staring into your own, searching your own, soft, and full of worry, and—

And something else. 

Something you weren’t coherent enough to put a label to.

But something that caused tears to well up in your eyes.

“Xavie,” you pouted, though you kept relatively still nonetheless, if only to lean more into his touch. “Why’re you lookin’ a’me like that?”

You caught the faintest trace of a smile on his lips, but he didn’t move away.

“Like what, angel?”

That nickname again.

You groaned as you fell back against the couch, grabbing a pillow to bring it up to your face.

Something about that nickname was driving you insane.

You felt your cheeks flush a cherry red, not just from the alcohol, and more likely from whatever else he was making you feel. You couldn’t quite tell what expression you were making, hidden behind the pillow, fighting some sort of giddy urge to let out a squeal. You didn’t even know how you had the space to overanalyze it. But the questions swirled in your head before you could stop it—has he said it to anyone else before? Was it just… you? Was it supposed to be… Common, and you weren’t aware of it?

The possibilities that plagued you only allowed another groan to sneak past your lips;

“Wh- why’re you callin’ me that, too! A-an’ being all soft with me, s’like… like you mean something…”

You felt the couch shift beside you, and although you still refused to look at him, you felt yourself naturally gravitating into his warmth.

“Do you… want me to mean something?”

This time, you sniffled.

Saved from his gaze, you quickly moved to bury your face back into his hoodie, allowing yourself to focus on his scent, on the way he held you like this, on the way—for even just a moment—he felt… yours.

“Dunnoooo,” you whined. “I’unno what you’re thinking… I never knowww what you’re thinking! Always so nice to me n’then you leave me all alone the next, then I’unno where to find you anymore… Say all these things n’keep me all close t’you, then you act like nothin’ happened…”

You rambled into his chest, your voice slurred and muffled into the fabric, gripping at his hoodie as if he could disappear in any next second. They were similar words to what you’d said by Tara’s front yard, similar feelings of refusing to let him go. But speaking them out with more clarity—whatever clarity you could muster the way you were speaking now—felt like twisting a knife into your heart.

Because all your thoughts had been clouded with him.

They were all-consuming, deliberately buried down into the pit of your stomach only to resurface with an intensity you could barely fathom yourself. How he’d been treating you, the words that he’d say… For the past days, for the past weeks, just—just him. Him, and his eyes, and his hair, and his voice. His touch. His presence. His comfort.

The Xavier you knew you’d come to love.

A hiccup bubbled in your throat, and you let out a quiet whimper in attempts to quell it.

Love.

Was that the emotion you couldn’t pinpoint?

Was that what you were feeling?

The visceral grip that he had on everything that you were; was that what you could call… Love?

“This isn’t the kind of time we should be talking about this…” You felt him murmur into your hair, a soft kiss placed on the crown of your head. Yet he wasn’t pulling away. He kept his hand on your back, soft, gentle caresses, trying to soothe you from the outpour of emotions you had barely the consciousness to control. “You’re not going to remember this tomorrow. How about we talk about it then?”

“B-but… But you always make excuses!” 

“Angel…”

You looked up this time, sniffling in irregulated breaths, eyes watery with tears that were threatening to spill.

“You can’t call me that!” you insisted. Your hands balled into a fist. “D’you know what that means?! W-what if it’s making my heart all restless? N’you can act all calm like it’s nothing!”

“...I’m sorry…”

“An’—an’ you’re… You’re so warm… You’re like a fluffy cloud… N’what if you leave? What if you’re only here ‘cause m’like this, and then the rain passes n’you just leave me all alone again, an’... A-an’ then the sky won’t have any stars, either, n’I’ll be all alone—”

You could register the mix of confusion and concern on his face, your words barely making sense even to you, but your grip on his hoodie remained tight. You felt it, the way your tears rolled down your cheeks, your own expression a mix of desperation and a confusion that likely mirrored his own.

“Just… Just don’t… Don’t leave, Xavier…” you felt your lower lip tremble. “I’on wanna be left all alone… M’scared… I’on wan’ you t’leave…”

Your voice became smaller and smaller with each word, and you were left there, sniffling for a moment, looking up at him with a certain kind of hopelessness.

You were aware, at least, that you likely looked pathetic in his gaze like this.

“...M’sorry, Xav, I-I’unno what…”

Your words swallowed back into your throat when he reached out, brushing his thumb over your cheeks, over the corners of your eyes, wiping away your tears. His touch, as always, felt like a gentle caress. Patient, despite the incoherence of your thoughts and your actions; kind, despite the way you were keeping him here with you very likely against his will.

But he squeezed your hand.

You knew what that meant.

You gulped, looking up at him again, allowing his touch to lull you into a calm as it often did.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled. “I won’t leave. You have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Through the haze of your eyes, half blurred from the alcohol and half from the tears, you caught the softening of his gaze. He moved closer, a little bit—slow, steady movements. And then he pulled your arm back over him, his own moving to rest in your hair… Until you were encased in the warmth of his embrace.

Almost just as earlier, except this time more… real.

He didn’t feel like an afterimage, not now.

Not in this moment.

His head dipped down, nuzzling against your neck, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, I’ll… I’ll do better. I’ll stay with you. I’ll be right here.”

His breath tickled your skin when he spoke. And, to you, these were words that you felt were more genuine than you had heard from him in a while. It was enough to have you comfortably settling into his hold, eyes falling closed, breaths beginning to even you out.

Your head still throbbed.

It was a combination of everything; all of these feelings, and the alcohol that had planted itself into your system far past any level of sensibility.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe you wouldn’t recall any of this when you woke up the next day.

You tended not to remember things when you got like this, after all.

But still, your arms wrapped around him, returning the embrace.

“...I love you, Xavier,” you whispered.

Maybe he wouldn’t remember anything, either.

—ꜱɪx ... xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ.

The soft clinking of spoon against the mug was all he could hear.

It was late in the afternoon, leaves rustling gentle against the kitchen window. The atmosphere was quiet, and peaceful—enough for him to let out a little yawn, eyes blinking slowly in the golden rays of the light.

The tiredness was catching up to him.

Fluctuations had been far more unsteady than usual these past few days, and it only meant another morning full of missions for the both of you. Now, here, where in his apartment the both of you decided to relax in, was the first moment of pause the two of you had been granted in a while.

He recalled, too, the complaints you’d muttered on the way back. Though you’d done so on the premise he wouldn’t hear you, he did, anyway. It brought a little smile to his face thinking of the tone of voice you had taken.

For though headstrong and dedicated to your job as you were, you, like all Hunters in the Association, had the right to feel weary. You deserved moments of rest, such as now. Xavier couldn’t blame you for your complaints. He wouldn’t dare.

Like a distant whisper in his mind came words that were familiar to him; words that he wished he had another moment to comfort;

“I’m tired, Xavier… What if I can’t brandish my sword one day? What then?”

The memory made him close his eyes, jaw tightened in a grind of his teeth.

What he’d said, then, were words he had never gotten the chance to fulfil—words he could never take back. He could remember them, still. It was of the last few times that their conversations had been cordial.

And it was the moment he realized that words were not enough; they never would be. Not if he couldn’t live by them. Not with all the promises he had easily broken.

He wondered, then, how many things of the past he’d come to regret.

With a shake of his head, Xavier carried the mug carefully out the kitchen, sure not to let its contents spill. This was your favorite flavor of tea, and it always had been. If he couldn’t make up for lost hours and missed opportunities then, he would make up for it now.

He would try to.

“Hey, Xavier?” Your voice called out, getting steadily clearer to him as his footsteps padded the wooden flooring of his living room. It was his apartment, one he’d know the layout of like the back of his hand—yet he found, instead, that his path had moreso been mapped out by the sound of your voice. “I realize I never got to ask what these are. Is this… Are these what I’m thinking they are…?”

He blinked.

You weren’t where he’d left you, just earlier.

You’d stood up from the couch, the soft rabbit plushie now out of your hands and since left to the side, looking a little dazed. His own gaze flitted from the toy up to your figure, crouched beside a little wooden stand by the corner of the room. In a manner he’d always found familiar, your head was tilted to the side, pure evidence of your own curiosity. And on top of the stand lay a case, beige as most things in his home, raised slightly open to reveal the touches of a little turntable.

Immediately, his eyes softened in understanding.

“It’s a record player. And those are vinyls.”

He walked up behind you to tap on your shoulder, and the way your eyes lit up at the sight of the mug in his hands nearly made his heart skip a beat.

“Really?!” you exclaimed, taking the tea into your own hands. Your shoulders lifted, whether by the warmth of the drink or your own excitement, Xavier wasn’t quite sure. But he smiled, nonetheless.

“Really.”

“Aren’t those from… Incredibly long ago? I mean, I’ve always known you were old-fashioned by nature, but I didn’t expect you to have things like these, too… I don’t think I’ve ever seen them outside of those little antique shops we pass by sometimes.”

You were rambling, almost.

He knew you got like this when you were excited.

Your expression became more animated than usual as you spoke, leaning in to get a closer look, and he almost laughed.

For all the times you’d call him adorable, he almost wanted to say it back to you, this time.

He almost did.

But when you looked at him next, there was a certain plea to your gaze, the corners of your mouth then turned down into a little pout. “Please can we play something?” The hopefulness laced into your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him. “I’ve never heard you use it before! What’s the use of having it sit around if we don’t get to hear what it plays?”

It felt ironic, looking at the image presented before him. The stand the player rested on had two shelves lodged within it, the bottom hosting a set of vinyls, the one above it hosting none other than a stereo. And suffice to say, the stereo had been used a lot more. The case of the player was well-kept, cleaned and shined every now and then… But it was obvious it had barely been used. It might as well have been new. Xavier himself couldn’t recall the last time he’d used it.

But that you were asking him to, only meant that he would give in. It was difficult to say no to you.

He could hardly dream of it.

“Okay,” he said finally, nodding his head in the direction of the vinyls.

The both of you crouched down to look at the titles, Xavier watching intently as your fingers traced over the record sleeves. They were soft, slow, contemplating motions. You took each one out of its place to look at the cover, eyes skimming the title, before putting it back down—rinse, and repeat.

This time, he did laugh. There was a confused sort of wonder on your face; he was sure that these titles were anything but familiar to you.

“Are you having trouble choosing?” he offered, leaning in closer to look at the records themselves.

Here, sitting so close to you, he could feel the warmth from the tea that you had only taken a few sips of, the scent of your perfume equally as notable in the space between you. Part of him, perhaps, wanted to prolong the moment.

He liked being close to you.

“Mmh… I’m not sure what to expect from either of these,” you admitted, your face scrunched up in concentration. Still your hands trailed over the jackets, and without thinking, he reached over to rest his own hand over your wrist.

When you looked at him, he was pleasantly surprised to find the faint traces of a blush over your cheeks.

You truly were adorable.

But he shook his head.

“Well… They’re a lot different from what we’d be used to now,” he leaned in closer to you to give you a little nudge. “I could choose for you, but I want you to experience it for yourself, too. So, maybe… Choose something you feel drawn to?”

He stood up, then, willing his heart to calm enough for you not to notice how your proximity was affecting him. Instead, he busied himself with the case, lifting up the lid completely to reveal the knobs and switches not otherwise visible just earlier. He tried to remember the last time he’d cleaned it, but it seemed to be in a condition good enough to be able to work, anyway. There was a part of him that let out a sigh of relief at the confirmation; the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint you with it.

“Katharine McPhee…” you mumbled, then.

“It’s a pretty name. The cover looked interesting, too, and the song title is… Well…” Your voice trailed off with a shrug, and he looked back at you, blinking at the vinyl you held in your hands.

Slowly, his lips turned back into a little smile.

Oh. That song.

You handed it over to him, expression expectant, as you took another sip of your tea.

“I actually… Don’t really remember how to use it.”

The soft admission fell from his lips, an honest warning that only earned a scoff from you in reply. He didn’t look at you this time, as he gently slid the record out of its jacket and placed it on the turntable. He didn’t need to, after all. He’d memorized enough of your expressions—the mirth in your eyes, the tugging of a teasing smirk against your lips that would eventually spill into a grin… He was sure you had your head tilted in quiet observance, his own hands moving to push the needle flush against the record.

After he reached over to flip the power switch on, he straightened, arms crossed, a hope in his eyes that could have mirrored your own. In a similar manner, you peeked out from behind him.

And then the first notes of a song flouted out from the box.

Mellow tunes wafted around the living room, a different kind of fullness to it compared to the music that both of you were used to hearing from the speakers. The gentle strumming of the guitar, the soft hums that started off the song—he breathed out a sigh of relief, while you, on the other hand, let out an exclamation of amazement.

In his head, he would have likened your behavior to that of a puppy who’d gotten a new toy. The mere thought of it had him glancing away for a moment, the back of his hand covering his mouth to hide his smile.

Yet, he—couldn’t quite look away from you.

It was hard to look away.

It always has been, when you had since filled his heart with a song of its own, and he’d always been so vividly aware of your presence ever since.

As if you were the only thing that truly mattered to him.

And perhaps, you were.

He could think back to these past months, every little glance the two of you would share, every brush of your hands, every caress he dared to initiate, every hold on you he’d be greedy enough to take for his own.

One of the earlier nights he’d let his self-indulgence get the better of him, he almost said those words—always on the tip of his tongue, always surging through his heart with an intensity he had to fight back so as not to scare you. And I love you became goodnight; I love you became stay; I love you became come back; I love you became come with me.

It became a glance. It became a touch, it became the tug of your hand. It became gentle ruffles of your hair, it became smiles, it became laughs, it became—you.

Love became you.

And now, the crisp noise emanating from the player seemed to wrap you in its embrace, smoothly, as you began to sway. Your feet shifted side to side as you let your head bob in time with every step, every little shuffle. You’d tucked your hair behind your ear, and your eyes closed. And he couldn’t help but notice—admire—the warm cascade of sunlight over your hair, shrouding you with a glow more ethereal than he’d ever seen… even with you. You were brighter than the sun. Brighter than the stars. Brighter than anything else, brighter than whatever light his Evol could possibly conjure, and just enough to match the warmth that being here with you, unfiltered and peaceful… filled him with.

“You know… I really like this song!” Your voice echoed through the music then, more noticeable to him than any other sound in the room. You turned your head, eyes meeting his own—”You’re right, it doesn’t sound at all like the kind of music we’d listen to these days, but the melody is really catchy, and her voice is really smooth, and—”

“Dance with me?”

Xavier spoke before he could stop himself.

In the next second he felt a sudden surge of heat at his own statement, nearly retracting his words to look away in embarrassment…

But he didn’t.

Instead, he reached out his hand.

He was sure the tips of his ears were near-glowing red.

He tried again.

“May I… Have this dance?”

And for all that his heart rate had always been naturally slow, he could hear the steady thrum of it in his ears. Louder than usual, quicker than usual, more anticipating than usual. If there was anything that could get him nervous, it was you.

Always you.

But you took his hand.

Your palm in his was small, but just as warm as you always were to him. Just as beautiful, as you always were to him. And perhaps, the world began to fade away, then. It often did, when he was with you. Only, now, in the confines of his home, symphonies echoing in the background, he knew that he was free to hold you as close as he did.

Neither of you spoke for a while as he pulled you up against him, his arms wrapping around your waist, your head against his chest. This was the closest the two of you had ever been in a long, long while, and he realized, then, that the pulse of your heart seemed to beat readily in time to his.

“I didn’t peg you to be a collector type, huh,” you mumbled.

You weren’t looking at him, eyes focused on the shuffle of your feet. He took the opportunity to rest his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m not,” he said quietly. “It was… A gift from a friend, but I haven’t gotten to use it much. It’s… been sitting around.”

He felt you laugh softly against him.

“Yeah? But you’ve kept it around, anyway. Who knows just how old this thing is…”

“...But, it works.”

“Mmh… yeah, it does. Thankfully. And… You know how to use it.”

“I hoped that I would.”

This time, you raised your head, and his breath hitched in his throat. Seeing your eyes, so up close like this, brought on a wave of emotion that he found he had to choke back.

It didn’t stop him from speaking.

“I… thought it might be something you’d like. I’m glad that you do.”

The smile that spread across your face in response to that nearly made his heart jump out of his throat. And the tug of your body closer to him was all he could do to keep those words from spilling out of his mouth.

I love you.

He could say it with a look.

And, sure, you had said it.

He remembered that night.

He’d barely gotten a wink of sleep, holding you in his arms as he had, but you weren’t—You weren’t sober. 

And neither of you had talked about that night.

It was as if your relationship had meant to continue for as long as it could without addressing it, and it was driving him insane, and—

And if he could, he would have this moment drag on forever, just you in his arms, a slow dance to the music, as far as he could lie to himself that you were already his without either of you having to say it.

But he knew that was not the case. It couldn't be. And he knew that you knew it, too. He saw it in the way your expression flickered into one of apprehension, and your lips parted to speak.

“Xavier… What are we?”

Your voice came as a soft whisper, with a question he found that he had no immediate answer to. He searched your eyes, brows furrowing, trying to ascertain what it is you were expecting him to say. 

He knew what he wanted the two of you to be.

He didn’t know what you were. He didn’t know what… you wanted.

So that was what he said.

“What do you… want us to be?”

It was as if all he knew how to do in that moment was deflect the question back at you.

And you frowned.

“Xavier, that’s not… I don’t…”

The turmoil that made itself obvious in your voice had his heart dropping almost immediately.

Because that was it.

You weren’t sure.

Those words you’d uttered to him just that night were nothing more than a drunken ramble, and he was right—this wasn’t the same as all those years back. Here you were, in his arms, yet every time he’d think you wanted him just as much as he did you, you’d pull back.

How cruel that you would think the same of him, when you could barely be receptive to what advances he could make.

Then, perhaps, he realized there was a limit to how much he could take.

“I know what I want,” he mumbled, then.

His hands moved up to rest against your cheek, a gesture that had become familiar to you, despite the emotional charge behind it, despite the way he could only wish to hold more of you in exactly this way.

And there was so much of you that he held in his heart.

He didn’t even know how to place it anymore. So many years of feelings he’d harbored for you, always, all this time, yet he never knew how to explain it. Neither to you, nor to himself. Because he’d never felt this way with anyone else. To be so full of contentment in someone’s presence; to be so hopelessly enamored by every little thing—even after all this time, this was new to him. New, and profound, and—

And terrifying.

To love you so wholly, so insurmountably, so… so much.

It almost felt foolish how terrifying it was.

His heart felt as though it had lodged itself in his throat, and he was sure that his voice would falter as a result, but this—this was it.

How could he move forward any longer without letting you know?

And it was the way your eyes remained steely on his that allowed him to speak again, determined—

“I want you.”

The music had since been long forgotten. Familiar, yet faded within distant memory, as the world, once more, became filled with you. It had always been like that. In his mind, there were many things that had since receded into cloudiness; a grey abyss of things that once were. Now, the only thoughts that ever seemed to hold clarity to him were thoughts of you.

How much he wanted you.

How much he needed you.

How much he… loved you.

Perhaps, he couldn’t say those words just yet.

Instead, he swallowed them with a kiss.

A chance; a risk—an obvious display of the bounds of longing that he’d reached, that had filled to the precipice, that had tortured him beyond an anguish of waiting.

It was an anguish that only you could fill.

The touch of your lips against his, soft and supple, the way you craned your neck for more of it, the way your arms tugged him closer, closer, pressing him into you if he should dare pull away… 

“Again,” you whispered.

And he had his answer, then.

You wanted this just as much as he wanted you.

So he kissed you again.

And again.

And again.

“More,” you pleaded, and each and every time you parted with one another, he could only think, perhaps, that there was no place else he would rather be than here with you. The quiet, crackling tune faded into your heedy breaths against each others’ lips. Right then, the music came to its own end, bringing with it a different kind of symphony that now danced within the depths of your eyes.

He felt your hands slide down from his neck back to tug at his sweatshirt, and his forehead moved to rest against yours.

“Satisfied?” he smiled, his voice lighter than it had been today.

“When it comes to you? Never, really.” Your noses bumped together, the slightest nuzzle filled with an insurmountable kind of affection. ”Because I want you, too.”

Those were simple words—but a direct revelation of your feelings, a direct reciprocation of his own, and—naturally, they spoke volumes. Enough for his heart to fill with warmth. Enough for his shoulders to relax, with a sort of relief he wouldn’t be able to explain to you if you asked. And he held you in his embrace, arms still wrapped comfortably around your figure, knowing that he could let go, but… he didn’t quite want to. Not at all. Not when you felt so right with him here; not when the implication of your words settled deeply into his chest.

So instead, he let out a slow, heavy breath, and perhaps he couldn’t help it anymore. His lips gradually inched back impossibly closer to yours, his gaze straying down from your eyes, dizzying, almost, at the way you were barely touching—

“How much?” he mumbled, because an agony of waiting couldn’t possibly be resolved in a single moment.

You let out a soft laugh.

“For forever,” you rolled your eyes, but you smiled. “If having you forever could ever be enough.”

His breath hitched.

Forever.

Forever sounded like bliss with you. Forever sounded far more wondrous than whatever fantasies lived in the pages of those books on his shelves; far more than anything he had ever, ever wished for. And he had wished for this for a long, long time. For you had always been in his heart. He knew, now, that he was in yours.

And forever was as long of a time he was willing to spend with you.

“I’d like that.”

Then his hands gripped your waist tightly, desperately, as his lips came crashing down once more—and this time, the desperation that had coiled itself in the depths of his heart found freedom in the way that he kissed you. Like clawing; almost, as if afraid he could never get another moment like this, as if afraid you could disappear from right in front of him, right then and there.

As if he wouldn't let you. 

He couldn't. 

And the longer the kiss continued, the hungrier it became.

There was the scent of your perfume, the scent of your shampoo, the taste of your lipgloss… All-engulfing, more, and more, until all he could feel was you. All he could taste was you. You, and you—so warm, and so right, and—his.

All his.

All while he felt your hand tangle into the roots of his hair, and you panted hazily into his open mouth, desperately wanting to breathe, and yet—neither of you wanted this moment to ever end.

And the both of you had an inkling of exactly where this was intending to lead.

Feet shuffled against the floor, a few steps backwards, but neither of you got very far before Xavier was lifting you up into the air. His arms supported the weight of your body through your back and your knees, positioning you into a princess carry—he noted the squeal that you let out, your eyes finding his in search of confirmation. It was, perhaps, instinct the way you clung to his waist next.

But he had never been more grateful for the straightforward layout of his apartment, keen to lay you down on his bed with a promise of much, much, much more. The weight on the mattress shifted, and his figure crawled over your body, the faintest brush of his knuckles against your skin. From this angle, you caged between his arms, legs slotted between yours, his weight holding him up by his forearms—you were beautiful.

More beautiful than you always had been.

The redness that surrounded your lips, lipstick askew, swollen from your kisses… Your hair was splayed out against the pillows, disheveled than things had started with. And there was a certain longing in your eyes that, he was sure, quite vividly reflected in his own.

He could feel the way his hair had likely gotten just as unruly, the sting in his scalp still tingling from where you had tugged and scraped just moments before. Yet he made no attempts to fix it, the annoyance of his hair nearly in his eyes of no importance to him in this moment. Not when you were here. Not when the tension in the air left him feeling dizzy, the prospect of having you closer making his head spin.

“My starlight,” he whispered, then.

He watched, fondly, at the blush that covered your face—and he came to the realization that the midday glow had melted into skies of velvet. 

And this was different, now, from any past sunsets he had ever watched with you.

Now, it streamed in through the window in skyburst reds and yellows. vibrant hues painted over your face, your body… A skyward hearth reflecting the solace he could only ever find in you.

And you were his sky.

You were his home.

You were his… everything.

It was these words that were swallowed back as his lips descended past your cheek, past your jaw, down your neck. He would let actions speak louder than words, this time; the words uttered instead into your skin. His fingers worked deftly to undo the buttons of your blouse, hips rolling into you, a friction that had his breath tremble against your neck. And then a suckle over the soft flesh on your shoulder made you gasp—he’d do it again, and again, lips trailing your skin in search of every mark of you he could finally, finally make his.

His eyes closed.

He could savor the sensation—hot breaths against you, the drag of his hands across the smoothness of your skin, those slow, loving circles he rubbed into your waist before he could tug your clothing off of your body.

Not a word was spoken; not yet.

Only hushed gasps and shaky breaths, every roll of his hips, the friction of his erection against the outline of your sex nearly driving both of you into a quiet dance of insanity.

You broke the quiet first.

“Xavier.”

A shaky whisper as his fingers trailed downwards, pressing flush against your lips, feeling the desperate cling of the fabric against you.

Another stroke of his finger, lewdly accompanied with the wet, sticky sound of your arousal—

“Xavier.”

He looked at you, then. Dragged his gaze from over your figure to the haze in your own.

And he whispered; “Beautiful.”

His strokes against your cunt had your bottom lip quivering, hands slipping from over his back to the mattress below. Little taps against your clit, finger dipping the fabric nearly inside, your wetness seeping through with ease… He could feel every pulse of your pussy, your need for stimulation never more clear to him than in that moment.

And—

“Xavier… Xavier.”

You sounded so sweet.

Every utterance of his name had hip drawing in a breath; he had never before in his life heard it called out with so much… love. 

He wanted more of it.

Lips moved to mouth at your breast, as your panties were pushed aside. Slow, open-mouthed kisses, dangerously close to your nipples but not quite—

His finger, then, slid directly over your folds, and you caved.

“Xavier—!”

A louder, uninhibited moan of his name, your back arching into his touch.

And there, displayed in his eyes, was a look of wonder. A look of love.

Your legs spread in response, inviting, daring. You were baring yourself to him so willingly, that you didn’t need to say anything else. The plea in your eyes was enough.

The plea in your voice was enough.

“Xavier…” you spoke again, barely a whisper, your hands moving back to thread through his hair.

And how could he ever deny you? 

You shuddered immediately as his lips moved to wrap around your nipple, the heat of your skin against him pulling the corner of his lips up into a little smile. Every flick of his tongue had your body twitching beneath him, and he felt every little jerk with a certain sense of pride.

It was so easy, then, for his finger to push inside. 

You gasped, and he pushed deeper—the gentle probing of your hole had you pliant and starved for his touch, his name falling out from your lips in a chant.

“Xavier… Xav—Xavier— Xavier—!”

He groaned against your skin. Your sounds were like music to his ears, a jolt straight down to the tent in his boxers that was almost painful.

Yet still, his eyes never strayed from yours.

He let his teeth graze over your bud as his finger curled inside you, pressing against your gummy walls, just slow, easy thrusts to guide you into the rhythm. And he could see it in your eyes. He searched them, equally as lost in the swirl of haze that had you drowned in the pleasure he gave you—and it was beautiful. Almost heart-wrenchingly beautiful. How he had always wished, yearned, to belong to the inner world behind your irises, and now he—he could.

He only pulled away from your breasts to rest his head by your ear, a low chuckle resounding. He felt the effect of it almost instantly as you clenched over his finger, but he didn’t stop there—a second digit found its way in.

“Shh, I know, angel, I know.”

Quiet, soothing whispers against your ear, his other hand moving to brush the hair out of your face.

This time, the light from the window was bathed in twilight—

He smiled.

That even the moon and the stars would smile upon you, would cover you in their light… The sky itself would speak of love. Of you.

He watched, as your hips, illuminated by the evening glow, began to make more desperate motions. You drew his fingers in deeper, guiding them to rub against the spot that had you crying out another chant of his name. His thumb brushed up against your clit, then, and your hand reached out to grab his arm.

Another smile.

“Is it there, angel?” he murmured. His hair fell over your face as he moved to face you, lips ghosting over yours. And he caught every gasp, every moan, ever drone of his name and every shudder of pleasure he could elicit by repeating the same actions.

Again.

And again. 

And again.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, wanting him close, his ministrations unrelenting. Long fingers dipped in and out of the heat between your legs, sounds of slick and arousal emanating from your cunt in time with the murmurs you keened into the crook of his neck.

“Close?” he whispered.

Whimpers fell from your mouth as he kissed at the corners of your lips, gently coaxing you closer to your high. Each pump of his fingers had your body arching higher, higher off the mattress, the soft cooing of his voice a catalyst to the climax you were so close to.

“Please,” you begged. “Please, Xavier… Please!”

Your words nearly made his throat close up, eyes closing momentarily as his cock twitched in response to you.

“I know,” he mumbled, “I know, starlight. You can do it, just a little more. Focus on me. Does it feel good?”

He leaned up to kiss the little beads of tears that formed out of the corner of your eyes, whispering against the flutter of your eyelids as the only coherent response you could give was a feeble nod.

“Then cum for me, angel.”

You gasped, and he felt it. Your walls constricted, your body arched, and his words, his voice playing into the heat in your core, so much so that it was much, much easier for you to let go. The coil snapped, and your hips bucked upwards, his name mixing with curses upon your lips that he found… delightful to his ears enough to smile.

“That’s it. There we go. You’re so good, angel, look at you…” He let out a slow breath as he withdrew his fingers from you, watching as your body twitched in the aftermath of your orgasm. Slowly, he slid down your body, hands gripping your thighs to spread you apart, and he placed a soft, barely-there kiss against your clit.

Your body jerked at the contact, and he immediately rubbed soothing circles into your skin, cheek resting against your thigh as he looked up at you with a smile.

“I know,” he whispered, again, “I know. You’re sensitive. I won’t do too much.”

But you shook your head.

His eyes blinked slowly, carefully, as he felt your fingers in his hair, coaxing him back up to you.

“Angel?”

“You’re an angel.”

Your breathing had calmed enough for you to speak this time, the familiar words falling from your lips in a way that made his heart skip a beat.

“You…” he breathed out in disbelief as your foreheads touched, taking in the slightest hint of mirth that became visible in your eyes.

And after all this time—through all the doubts that swirled in his head, through all the desperation to get the timing perfect, in manner with the perfectionism that had been instilled so deeply into his heart—

It was you who spoke the words first.

“I love you.”

And the lump in his throat had prevented him from responding immediately, but you knew.

Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, and like all the years he had felt such a familiar gesture, he allowed himself to surrender. The weight of his head fell into your palm as he nuzzled closely into you, his own eyelids fluttering, as if savouring every bit of affection that you held in that caress.

“My starlight…”

A feeble rasp of the little nickname he’d made for you was all he could muster in the moment, and you, in return, could only chuckle.

Perhaps, it made the moment feel more real.

A soft sigh fell from your lips as he pressed back up against you, as your hands worked to pull down his boxers, as the throbbing of his cock pushed against folds.

“Starlight, I…”

His words melted into a groan as it was you who moved your hips against him, the slide of your sexes coating his member in your slick. And the quiet of the night could not have rang in his head any louder than the wetness between the both of you, evidence of the desire that rang true in your bodies as his hips seemed to move with a mind of their own. His eyes closed as he dragged his length along your folds, breath stuttering as the head of his cock would catch on your entrance with each withdrawal of his hips.

Your breaths were shaky as you hugged him closer, receptive of his slow grinds into you and against you, and he realized, then, that this was real.

Your words were real. There was no alcohol laced into your words this time. Instead, you nodded your head, and he noticed it—a different kind of intoxication, the reflection of his figure stirring in your eyes with unspoken need.

“Xavier…” You whispered again, and it was a plea.

Such a multitude of ways that you could say his name.

“Xavier… please, take me.”

And with one slow thrust, he was there.

Closer to you than ever; as close as the two of you could be.

A moan fell from his lips as the tight passage constricted around him, the thickness of him stretching your walls to accommodate the feeling of being so full. 

And it was enough.

“I love you…”

His head fell against your chest as he felt himself tremble, the sensation overwhelming. You were so snug and warm around him, so… perfect. There was no stopping the words from falling out of his lips. He would say it again.

“I love you.”

He felt your breath stutter against the crown of his head, and he buried himself deeper into you, nuzzling into your chest, his body alight with a heat that he could barely begin to fathom.

He loved you so much, it ached.

And you moaned as your head threw back, hands clawing into his back, as his hips began to move. Slowly, at first, the languid pacing of his hips allowing you to feel the drag of his length against your walls, allowing him to soak in the way your cunt would suck him right back into you.

“Xavier, Xavier, Xavier…”

Your sounds were soft from your lips, a melody that had him rhythmically moving in the tune of, only picking up the pace ever so slightly—because he could hardly get enough of you. You drank each other in shamelessly, savouring the taste of your skin, every inch of your bodies colliding with every movement, and it was—enthralling. Breathtaking. Every snap of his hips as he breathed heavily against you had you shuddering. You would meet his grinds with needy little humps of your own, and he—

He could lose himself in this.

And all he could focus on was the endless litany of his name upon your lips, the quiet sound of skin against skin, the near-filthy squelch of your cunt with each dance the two of you would play in.

Until he could barely breathe.

Until his lips were back on yours, and you would hold each other close, hold each other tight, never letting go because this—all of it—was exactly what the both of you needed.

Xavier felt it, then. The squeeze of your walls, the flutters, the pulses—he lifted his head.

His vision was hazy.

All he could think of was you; all he could feel was you; all he could see was you. The flush of your cheeks, the way your eyes looked back at him with a darkened, half-lidded gaze, the way your mouth held open in desperate pants for air.

And he moved harder, harder, faster—

“Angel,” he choked out, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of your body.

“D-don’t stop, Xavi, please, don’t—don’t—”

“M.. M’not stopping, angel… I know… I know, feels s’good, doesn’t it…”

He angled his hips, deliberately pushing his cock against the spots inside of you that he’d memorized, and—

“X- Xavier…!”

His teeth grit as you clenched around him, legs drawing over his hips and keeping him flush against you enough to trigger his own release.

“Take it… C’mon… take it, angel, take it, take—it—”

His head dipped to bury against your hair, tucking you under his chin, keeping you caged in his arms for as long as he could. His hips stuttered as he pumped inside of you, spilling his load with a wave of euphoria that had you both letting out a cry of pleasure. And he pulled out just the littlest bit before sliding in again, shallow thrusts making a mess of his cum, the throb of his cock pulsating against your walls…

Muffled groans turn into trembling breaths, heavy pants as the atmosphere gradually relaxed into contentment.

“I love you.”

He peeled off of your body only to gently stroke at your cheek, taking in the glow in your smile at his words.

So he said it again.

“I love you.”

And he leaned in to pepper kisses over the side of your face, like little specks of stardust, a gather of constellations that could only fill his universe full of you.

You laughed, softly, nuzzling your nose against his.

“You make my heart smile,” you sighed, and he placed a kiss at your eyelids in response.

“And you make mine. Always.” An honest reply. His hands found yours, fingers intertwined, a soft, gentle massage into your palm. “...I love you. I’m sorry I took so long.”

And you smiled.

“You did take long,” you hummed. “But now that you’re here… It’s worth it. Just... Make it up to me and cuddle for a little. Okay?"

His eyes fell closed.

This time, he felt—this was a promise he could make for you. This time, knowing he had you, he thought… Perhaps, he could. 

“...Mhm. Rest now,” he whispered. “And I’ll be by your side. Always.”

“You said it again, my heart's in motion; every word feels like a shooting star. I'm at the edge of my emotions, watching the shadows burning in the dark, and I'm in love—and I'm terrified."

[Terrified ; Katharine McPhee]

⁺₊ / an: first of all scene 4 was inspired by the tamsui bridge in taiwan, second of all can you believe this is the first time i used 3rd person pov limited (non-reader)?? and it was such ??? a challenge??? and third of all DID YOU NOTICE… that i used the slow dance trope in direct contrast to sylus’ "once upon a december" drabble hehe i’m smart sometimes <3

ANYWAY my thoughts on this is that writing this made me realize why xavier/mc has always felt so special to me, and why the 21 days card made me so emotional :'> this took reallyyy long to finish because i reaally wanted to convey the gentleness in their relationship (through a reader insert, no less!) while also keeping all that fear and desperation and uncertainties of falling in love still very much real and present 🙏 writing the outline and scenes 5+6 made me cry a little,,, i hope reading this fic has allowed you to feel the depth of their love, too <3

also : mention for @sadfragilegirl for that one request you sent a while back! since you requested "passionate loving smut" with xavier i'd think this fits in with that hehe

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[cksmart-world]

SMART BOMB

The Completely Unnecessary News Analysis

By Christopher Smart

June 11, 2014

UTAH YETI? ABOMINABLE NAME FOR NEW HOCKEY TEAM

OK Wilson, you're not going to believe this but the proposed name for Utah's new NHL hockey franchise has been whittled down to six possibilities. One of them is “Utah Yeti.” For real. Yeah, yeah, sure, we know, the band spotted one in the High Uintas when they were on a spiritual religious retreat with Steve Urquhart's “Shroomiversity,” that uses psilocybin as a sacrament. But we digress. Here are the rest of the finalist names from the “fan voting” contest: Utah Blizzard, Utah Hockey Club, Utah Mammoth, Utah Outlaws and Utah Venom. OK, it's true that more than 10,000 years ago mammoths roamed around Utah. But really? They're as synonymous with Utah lore as jackalopes. Outlaws? Venom? Huh? Here are some of the names submitted by readers of Smart Bomb: Swarming Crickets; Stormon Mormons; Utah Missionaries; Skating Apostles; Ice Quorum; Salt Lake Salamanders and Flying Saints. You gotta admit it Wilson, our readers picks are way better. It just goes to reinforce that old saw about too many cooks in the kitchen. Just look what happened when the NFL's Washington Redskins changed it's name to Commanders. It's the Abilene Paradox — group think that yields a conclusion no one person would have selected. Yeti Shmeti.

THE UGLY BEAUTY CONTEST

The best political sideshow this season is the beauty pageant that could crown the next GOP nominee for vice president, one heartbeat away from the leader of the free world with cardiovascular disease. Here are the finalists:

Florida Rep. Bryon Donalds. Pros: He says that Jim Crow was good for Black families and could help Trump attract more White Nationalist.

Cons: Most voters spit up when they hear the words, “Jim Crow.”

Ohio Sen. J.D.Vance. Pros: He's a white dude from Appalachia and has that hillbilly thing goin'.

Cons: He went to Harvard and he's suspicious. Can't trust him.

New York Rep. Elise Stefanik. Pros: She's smart, cunning and takes no prisoners.

Cons: She's too smart and too cunning. Can't have a woman like that around.

Florida Sen. Marco Rubio. Pros: He's little with little hands and a little voice — he'll make Trump look good.

Cons: Trump already owns Florida. Little Marco is still a waste of space.

South Carolina Sen. Tim Scott. Pros: He's an empty suit who won't stop saying he loves Trump. It's embarrassing but Trump likes it.

Cons: He tries to kiss Trump all the time.

Nikki Haley. Pros: None.

Cons: She may try to poison him.

GOV. COX AND MR. HYDE — THE CASE OF THE MAGA SERUM

Here comes the tough takin', gun slingin' Spencer Cox. What're you gonna do about it. Wait, what happed to our nice, little farm boy governor. You remember, the one who said we should all be nice to each other on account of we're all patriotic Americans. Well, no more Mr. Nice Guy. Wonder if it has anything to do with the upcoming Republican primary election. Once upon a time Cox urged legislators to be kind to LGBT folks because they're human, too. Then he signed the bathroom bill to police the toilets for trans people. Gov. Wunderkind once said homeless people should not go hungry or freeze to death. Now, he contends that it's time for those laggards to take responsibility for themselves. There was a time when Gov. Smiley wanted young people to ready themselves as next generation leaders. Then he applauded riot police for kicking the stuffing out of non-violent protesters at the University of Utah. Well Wilson, maybe the Republican State Convention can provide some clues. The MAGAtes have taken over the Utah GOP and booed Cox, their party leader, as he took the stage at their recent convention. “Maybe you hate that I don’t hate enough,” he told the crowd. The Guv might have added, 'But I'm working on it.' Looks like he drank the serum, after all.

Post script — That's a wrap for another fun-filled week here at Smart Bomb where we keep track of the news all summer so you don't have to. Everybody needs a break from the news, too bad most Americans are on permanent news break. What're you gonna do, Wilson? Here are a sample of headlines from the week that was: Phil Lyman called Bears Ears land swap “gang rape”; Mike Lee wants to stop noncitizen immigrants from voting — but has no evidence they are; Biologist who discovers blonde moth with tiny genitals names new species after Donald Trump; Weber State to axe Black, Latino and other cultural centers to comply with new diversity law; Florida couple arrested for selling tickets to heaven; GOP overwhelmingly supports a Trump conspiracy theory, yet again; Republicans pitch tax cuts for corporations, the wealthy in 2025; Zoo separated 5 parrots after the birds were caught encouraging each other to swear at visitors; Caitlin Clark snubbed by Olympics; Arizona psychic hit by car says he never saw it coming; Bill Maher shocks audience with Trump prison-rape joke. No Wilson, we're not going to repeat the joke here — but you can find it if you dare read the news. Yikes!

Well shucks Wilson, no doubt about it now, summer is here. Time to slow down, watch some women's softball, eat watermelon and fire up the barbie — everything tastes better on the barbie along with light beer on a nice warm day. OK Wilson, tell the guys in the band to put down their beer and take us outa here on a summer ride:

Groovin' on a summer afternoon Really couldn't get away too soon I can't imagine anything that's better The world is ours whenever we're together There ain't a place I'd like to be instead of Movin' down a crowded avenue Doin' anything we like to do There's always lots of things that we can see You can be anyone we like to be All those happy people we could meet Just groovin' on a summer afternoon Really couldn't get away too soon No, no, no, no We'll keep on spending summer days this way We're gonna talk and laugh our time away I feel it coming closer day by day Life would be ecstasy, you and me endlessly Groovin' on a summer afternoon Really couldn't get away too soon No, no, no, no Groovin', uh huh...

(Groovin' — The Young Rascals)

[polaritiesoop]

Rewatching Hermitcraft 6, and I've reached the beautiful civil war arc. But I also realized that grian has some REALLY weird fans that are such a loud minority. Why is it anytime Grian is playfully at "odds" with another hermit or something shenanigans against Grian that there are negative comments toward said hermit? like why are there some people acting threatened by it?

Long Rant AHEAD

I find it concerning it happened even earlier in season 6. I forgot which hermit, or what it was about but I'm pretty sure a hermit was getting HATE for a HARMLESS PRANK in the famous block GAME MINECRAFT. Ridiculous, ain't it? seeing those strings of words in one. Why on God's green earth does Grian have such baby fans? I thought we were pretty chill but I guess it's only here on tumblr and twitter. I don't know if reddit has been kind to Grian and other hermits, I wouldn't assume they weren't over there considering that Grian likes to hang around there more than twitter. I guess it is most on Youtube comments. This does not only happen in season 6, but I bet also seasons 7, 8, 9 , and life series too, my memory's a bit blurry on the details. And even in the current season?! tf you mean people are hating on Xisuma for banning Grian AS A JOKE ? like why does Grian need to constantly remind people when anything playful "conflict" in the server happens that they are friends? That it is all in good fun? I'm glad though Grian has a strong friendship with the hermits, or the hermits are in good bases in general.

I don't know, its sad and frustrating to see unnecessary negative on what is considered one of the wholesome and fun minecraft smps. Hermitcraft is such a genuine server that I bet feels like home to the hermits, that it's more than simply a gaming server or a series to make tens of Yt videos out of. Same goes with the life series, as a little side smp to get some really chaotic fun, short but effective in giving such good entertainment (for both creators and fans) and compelling stories that fans are able to weave perfectly through fanfiction, art and other creative media, or just simple online discussions. But the fun gets a little spoiled by fans that don't know how to have fun. This is not covering yet how the fandom recently feels too ....idk the right word, charged??? Surely, I am not the only one to notice. I see it on twitter. Why are some people being icky? like stop. I'm getting a deja vu here, from experiences on an adjacent fandom that is crumbling (coughs dream smp).

I don't know why I am ranting. Home girl rewatched hermitcraft 6 and suddenly I am ranting out my personal frustrations LOL. Trying not to get TOO stressed out. I got recently released from college kerfuckle (I make it sound like a mental facility...). I guess Grian's personal note on his recent video about uploading schedule triggered it. I feel kinda bad that he felt pressured to produce videos, as opposed to, yknow, at his own convenience at his own time at his own mood? I hope I am not sounding like those peeps that loves to baby content creators. an adult too, older than an average young fan, in the words of others "a man with dick and balls"! All I can say for Grian's fan (or hermitcraft fans in general) being weird is uhhh touch grass. smell the flowers. go outside. talk to your friends. go watch or rewatch your favorite series. watch long video youtube essays of random topics. look at trees. they are great and beautiful. look at the sky observe its hues. pet a cat. a dog. ur pet salamander or snake or ferret or whatever. animal. think about your crush. or partner. or a friend you really love. or family member you really trust with your life

Its simple really! Take time to reflect on your thoughts. Don't be so fucking mean we have enough mean people in this earth. Don't be like them. The world is a cruel place at the moment, so why not make it better for everyone else? I am not saying to be only kind towards Grian or other content creators or people in this fandom. In general. At the same time, you're being kind to yourself. Not to dwell too much negative in yourself.

This kinda spiral into something else, but honestly i don't care. I got it out of my system. I hope i get to enjoy summer time drawing and writing.

[angel-inbloom]

i want to see a salamander!!

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me Simeon Birthday Special 100 Fun Facts

1. Simeon and Lucifer used to take naps together in the Celestial Realm

2. Simeon was once a seraph, for unknown reasons he was demoted to an archangel before the events of the game

3. Simeon’s favorite color is celestial blue

4. Simeon’s favorite animal is a sloth

5. Simeon owns a café in the human world called the angel’s halo

6. Simeon was close enough to Lucifer to be considered one of his brothers

7. Simeon is good at juggling, managing four clubs his first attempt

8. When Simeon is drunk he forgets words and easily cries

9. Simeon describes his job as middle management and cries to Lucifer about it when he gets drunk

10. Simeon makes the best pancakes

11. Simeon has a difficult time trying to act scary

12. Simeon claims he has a hard time getting mad but he’s seen getting mad many times especially as a play director

13. Simeon is the author of TSL

14. Simeon based the TSL characters off the seven brothers

15. Simeon thought it was cute when Levi shyly followed him around too nervous to ask for an autograph

16. Simeon and Diavolo do not get along because Simeon is so good at hiding his true feelings

17. Satan is curious to see what Simeon would be like angry, meanwhile Diavolo is scared to see it

18. Simeon loves making bento boxes for Luke

19. Simeon enjoys escape rooms

20. Simeon’s favorite Devildom food is Black Tapir

21. When a flame salamander became attached to Simeon he considered taking him back to the celestial realm

22. Simeon’s BLT sandwiches are popular among flame salamanders and Beelzebub

23. Simeon enjoys calling Lucifer, Lucy

24. Simeon’s motto is “Learning is a lifetime.”

25. Simeon keeps a daily diary

26. Simeon has been keeping a scrapbook of his and Luke’s time in the Devildom from day one. He claims to be very proud of Luke as he smiles more in each picture.

27. When asked what he’d do if the Devildom disappeared tomorrow, he said he’d take Luke back to the Celestial realm

28. Simeon’s a dog person, specifically chihuahuas

29. Simeon enjoys teasing Luke but prevents anyone else from doing it

30. Simeon and Lucifer used to have movie nights together frequently

31. Simeon is said to be the active one when it comes to love

32. Simeon wishes to “be bound” by his lover

33. Simeon cherishes relationship anniversaries and special dates of remembrance

34. For a relationship with obstacles Simeon states “I wouldn’t want to encounter that if I could avoid it, but I don’t think I’d give up for sure.”

35. Simeon is able to openly express his feelings but will still become jealous

36. It’s implied Lucifer avoids hanging out with Simeon because Simeon is one of the only people who can see through his prideful demeanor

37. Simeon gets along well with Cerberus

38. Simeon sees Luke as his grandson

39. Simeon saved Lucifer and MC’s lives by sneaking into a guarded celestial palace and stealing Michael’s ring of light to give to MC

40. Simeon is very bad with technology but as the game continues he slowly gets better

41. Simeon is so used to using his DDD camera that he’s forgotten how to use a regular camera

42. Simeon once got forced into a self checkout line and in a panic having no idea what to do, he called Lucifer to come save him

43. Simeon helps teach Luke how to do a handstand by holding him from his ankles

44. Simeon couldn’t figure out why he was bad at jump roping until Luke suggested he take off his cape

45. Teaching Simeon how to use his DDD is considered an exercise in futility

46. Simeon is the second-shortest side characters

47. Simeon enjoys cooking

48. Simeon says he can’t wink and is trying to practice

49. As an archangel Simeon is seen as a warrior by other angels

50. Simeon is a skilled musician

51. Simeon thinks horror movies are pretty fun

52. Simeon prefers sweet food over spicy food but likes both

53. Simeon’s human world outfit was chosen by Luke, he decided to go with it after seeing Luke’s cute smiling face

54. Simeon states that just because he’s an angel it doesn’t mean he’s all forgiving

55. As of season four, Simeon is a human after his angelic powers were taken as punishment for stealing from Michael

56. Simeon sees Michael as more of a friend than a supervisor

57. Simeon checks up on Luke to make sure whether or bit he’s actually gone to bed

58. When asmo had shocking pink hair Simeon states it hurt his eyes

59. Simeon believes the whip is an exciting expression of love

60. Simeon enjoys architectures digest

61. Simeon says the secret ingredient for his pancakes is love

62. Simeon was almost attacked by a giant jovial gingerbread man, all he did was smile at it and it shriveled into a fried cookie

63. Simeon taught Luke how to make pie

64. Solomon believes openly sassing the son of the demon king is a very Simeon thing to do

65. Simeon attempted to make solomon cry for his own amusement

66. Simeon once told MC he’d be okay with becoming a demon if it meant he could be with them

67. When Simeon was under a spell that showed him what he wanted to see, he was convinced that Lucifer and his brothers falling from the Devildom was all a long bad dream

68. Simeon says he wouldn’t mind if anyone caught him kissing MC and that they could even make it a point to kiss in front of them

69. Simeon didn’t believe in the exchange program until season four after seeing all the blood sweat and tears diavolo put into it

70. Simeon vents to Lucifer when he’s tired of Michael’s errands

71. Simeon once gave bangles to the brothers enchanted with a spell that would make them angelic. He didn’t place the spell but knew about it.

72. Simeon became an author after leviathan suggested it though at first he claims to be satisfied just reading them

73. Simeon would make up elaborate stories to tell the Cupids

74. Before season three Simeon never stayed in the human realm for a long period of time, though he says he has visited multiple times

75. Simeon enjoys cube puzzles

76. When a rumor about The Angel’s Halo spreads, Simeon requests Mammon and MC’s help to dispel the rumor that if you share a drink together you’ll be together forever. Mammon is unable to pretend to break up and starts crying so Simeon calls him useless

77. Simeon feels anxious seeing others work and not helping out

78. As a seraph Simeon was known to be the least intense

79. Simeon is very serious about his job even becoming very angry when the brothers disrupt him

80. Simeon adores rare books, during the first Christmas event when every swapped gifts he was excited to get the book Satan was hoping to get himself

81. Simeon once got detention in RAD

82. When Mammon created the Miss Em’ dolls, Simeon opted for the goth plushie

83. Raphael claims Simeon is much better at his job (the angelic one) after coming to the Devildom

84. Simeon is one of the only people who can calm down all the brothers

85. At the end of season four Simeon accepted that he’d become human and was okay wearing his celestial realm clothes again thanks to MC’s help and acceptance

86. At the end of season four Simeon decided to stay in the Devildom until Raphael’s year long exchange was over

87. After demotion to human, Simeon was confronted and asked if taking the ring of light is why it happened but he responds “something like that” hinting it could be for more than one reason

88. Simeon tells Mephistopheles he “smiles a lot by nature” when Mephistopheles accuses him of finding him caring for Luke as something funny

89. Simeon once escaped and left Luke to endure Solomon’s cooking by himself

90. Simeon will bribe Lucifer to hang out with him

91. On more than one occasion Simeon has snuck into events celebrating him (Christopher Peugeot)

92. Simeon gets a little embarrassed when he sees his books on store and library shelves

93. Simeon sends Michael sweets from the Devildom is exchange for sweets from the celestial realm

94. Luke claims Simeon is too fond of flouting the rules when it suits him

95. When there was a mess at the café Simeon scared the brothers into helping him clean up

96. As a director, Simeon was called a dictator by the brothers for how strict he was

97. Simeon says he prefers the hustle and bustle of the Devildom over the serene quiet of the celestial realm

98. Simeon is the first person to recognize and point out Levi’s degradation kink and tries to stop him multiple times

99. Despite Simeon always looking serious and seeming hard to read, he claims he’s not thinking about anything deep in particular, and that no one believes him when he explains

100. Simeon thinks it’s fun to cause a stir on occasion

[iwantescapism13]

'The Core and The King' - Dark Marcy finally appears and we get to see King Andrias' past.

Fucking. YES.

After several episodes of being missing, Dark Marcy has finally appeared with more lines than just a freaking sentence and they were quite... dorky. I didn’t expect that at all. It made me feel like I shouldn’t be scared of such a villain. 

However... the indications that Marcy is trapped somewhere else while The Core plays around? Damn. That’s so evil. On top of that, they are very, VERY sarcastic. It’s what’s “charming” about them, I’d say. 

I’m excited to see how Amphibia will tackle Dark Marcy’s characterization moving forward.

For now, my comments [in which I bully King Andrias most of the time, so go and have a read if you hate him too]:

Oh no! They teared Marcy’s phone apart! Shit! Some of her memories are in there!

They really love the word ‘pathetic’, huh? Also, does this mean that they didn’t find anything useful in the phone? If that’s the case... then Marcy’s phone probably contains stuff about Anne and Sasha! Oh no!

King Andrias asking the most important question of all.

How dare you ask if Marcy’s in there, you pompous a**hole. But fine. It’s for the viewers’ sake.

What the hell did you all do to Marcy?! WHERE IS SHE?! Is she in pain?! Is she miserable?! Is she in a forever loop of good memories with Anne and Sasha?! DAMN IT ALL!

So, a few things to take note with this: 1) Dark Marcy talking using teenager lingo is seriously unsettling [considering WHO are inside The Core]; 2) Marcy has a sweet tooth [the only other food that we know she loves is mint-chocolate ice cream]; and 3) “UBE”??! Is... Is Marcy... Filipino? But... But if she was, wouldn’t Matt Braly have stated it in that interview where he revealed Sasha’s and Marcy’s ethnicities or whatsoever? She’s just confirmed to be Taiwanese. But... if it turns out that she’s half-Filipino as well, oh my god... I’ll be so damn happy. Side note: makes me want to try Red Velvet + Ube frosting now.

Oh gosh. Dark Marcy is clumsy. Is it possible that the final battle will be comedic? We shall see...

“Redundant memories”, eh? I trust that Dark Marcy is smart enough to retain Marcy’s memories of Anne and Sasha so they could use it to blackmail or manipulate the Resistance in a certain way. However, it could work the other way around too because then she’ll be easily controllable. They didn’t need to take over. They can just tell her what to do and she’ll do it on her own accord. She’ll be their puppet. But then... they’ve been wanting a body so... hmm... I wonder what they’re planning...

Geez... Dark Marcy just keeps bullying King Andrias to no end, huh? Well... serves that motherfucker right.

~Welcome to Amphibia~ ~Have a look around~ ~In here conquering worlds is apparently normal to be found~ ~We got mountains of adverts~ ~Some bad and some worse~ ~If none of it’s an interest to you~ ~You will be killed~

So I saw people mention that the original trio are just children in this flashback. And I questioned that, if that’s the case, why would Barrel be assigned to be a guard here. Then I remembered that Grime told Sprig that toads were trained since they were young. Huh... good continuity there.

This stupid salamander had the audacity to interrupt Barrel’s job, but when Leif and Barrel later plays around with the music box, he tells them to give it back like a sissy child. He’s such a pathetic dude, I cannot even.

Barrel is the hero we need and deserve right now. 

Including the current one, King Andrias had done the same thing and lost 26 fucking times. Haha. What a loser.

Leif’s note to King Andrias.

Sooooooooo... we all know what kind of dance she’s talking about here, right? Or is it just me?

Blush of embarrassment from King Andrias and a really high Barrel. I love Barrel. He’s fun.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh my god, Barrel is such a funny toad. He’s my favorite amphibian now.

PFFFFFFFFFT! “’Drias”?! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! So lame.

Look at this pompous idiot’s face. So he had always been an arrogant one. And apparently, “invasion” is a positive word around Amphibia back then that Leif and Barrel CLAPPED THEIR HANDS AS CONGRATULATIONS. Wow... times were so different.

Geez... King Andrias was such a massive simp.

Former King Aldrich sounds a bit like Belos. *proceeds to check whether this is true* Okay, he isn’t voiced by the same voice actor but holy shit! He voiced some characters in Dark Souls and Bloodborne! God damn!

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA oh my god, I cannot. It’s such a lame nickname. XD

SO THE FANS WERE RIGHT! FORMER KING ALDRICH IS THE ONE WHO SAID THIS LINE! But... not gonna lie, it was kinda disappointing that this wasn’t directed to Marcy.

Yeah... friends do be like that once someone in the friend group attains a high position.

Former King Aldrich speaking THE TRUTH.

There it is. Greatest minds + Leviathan ancestry. I’d say they’re very smart. With their consciousness transferred to a robot, they can technically be considered immortal. I’m curious as to HOW they managed to do that, though. You got to admit, that’s very impressive.

“Savages”? Damn, sir. You talk as if you’ve been there. Also, what kind of resources would you even need? You said it yourself: Earth is medieval. There’s nothing that the world can offer that you don’t already have. Amphibia is, like, centuries ahead in its advancement of technology. 

If you think this line makes this pompous idiot redeemable, well you’re dead wrong. He’s gonna fucking change his goddamn mind later on in the episode. I wasn’t fooled by his words.

But why the hell do you need to invade other worlds to survive? That doesn’t make any sense! Look at Amphibia! All the amphibians are doing fine, you salamanders are in charge of everything, and let’s not forget about all of the technological advancements. What more do you guys need? MORE robots? Why? Is it not enough? Is Amphibia still not prosperous enough for you? Most importantly, ARE YOU BORED OR SOMETHING??

GASP! It’s in one of my predictions that Leif will steal the music box as a joke! Oh my god, I can’t believe it came true! Holy shit!

This is the only time I ever felt that bullying is well-deserved. Go Leif! Go Barrel!

So... all 3 of the gems can be pressed, eh? I’d say this is just convenience at this point. It makes me wonder what will happen now if any of the Calamity Trio press all gems together. Will they see what’s gonna happen in the future too?

Let me just say that the background music during this vision scene was fucking scary as shit. 

Probably an unpopular opinion but: Leif is such a hypocrite in this scene. She was totally okay with the invasion of another world - which would probably mean the total annihilation of a species - but as soon as she knew that it’d affect Amphibia, suddenly she gets all teary-eyed and realizes that what they’re doing is wrong. 

No, Leif. You only knew it because you saw the vision. 

Geez, lady! Haven’t Amphibia had enough resources?! Jesus!

This just means that Former King Aldrich KNEW about the vision and refuses to act on it because The Core told him not to.

“Sacred birthright”? Sure, it was created in Amphibian soil and whatever, but that doesn’t make YOU the right one to use the gems to conquer worlds - or conquer ANY THING for that matter. Who even told you that?

I’m actually surprised that King Andrias even gave Leif a chance to present her case. This doesn’t add to his redemption whatsoever, though.

Former King Aldrich have a point, you know. Despite being an aloof father, he doesn’t seem half bad in trying to sound like he’s encouraging his son. This may be borderline manipulation, but he has given King Andrias chances to prove himself. He never thinks of him as anything less. I don’t know...

Again, WHY? Is it because of the finite resources? And once the CloakBots are out of commission, does that mean that Amphibia is doomed? But again, WHY? They were robot-less for 1,000 years after the incident with Leif and the music box and Amphibia seems totally fine. So what’s getting these creatures so bananas?

You are NEVER gonna get redeemed in my eyes, King Andrias. Never.

He treasures his friends, that’s what I’m sure of. He was just blinded with the idea of proving himself to his father and not disappointing his ancestors. WELL. That still doesn’t make him redeemable because HE HAD ONE THOUSAND FUCKING YEARS TO THINK ABOUT WHAT HE HAD DONE BUT NO. HE CHOSE VIOLENCE. HE CHOSE TO STAB MARCY. How is this pompous a**hole redeemable? Dark Marcy is right. He’s pathetic.

To be completely fair, it’s a bullshit move to betray her friends like that. She was all in favor of invading other worlds and just because something weird happened, suddenly turned 180 and run off with the music box? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Barrel, what exactly do you plan to do here? Knock her unconscious? Okay, actually that’ll work.

Reason #1354657 on why King Andrias will never be redeemed in my books: he had the intention of killing Leif after she stole the Calamity Box.

So... something interesting about this is that it was shown in a vase in ‘Fight At The Museum’ that Leif went to Earth and showed humans the Calamity Box. Does this mean that the olms told her to go there and find the destined 3 stars that will save Amphibia? So... does this mean that she died on Earth? Can amphibians last until over a thousand years too or does that only apply to salamanders? Because if so, is it possible that she’s still alive somewhere?

Two things: 1) WHAT DRUGS ARE YOU ON, FORMER KING ALDRICH?! Amphibia is doing perfectly fine! and 2) You see, Former King Aldrich didn’t even do anything to punish King Andrias when he clearly messed up. He’s a fine father. He’s just... manipulative.

The fact that it has been 1,000 years since then, these salamanders sure are patient as fuck.

DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE LOOK AT MARCY WITH THOSE EYES! YOU. FUCKING. STABBED. HER! YOU DECIDED TO DO THAT! DON’T YOU DARE START HESITATING NOW, YOU FUCKING COWARD!

----

Ahem. Okay. Anyway.

What a very good half-episode! I absolutely love Barrel, he’s such an adorable and loyal toad. Now, I feel sad that he’s already dead. He would’ve been a great addition to the main cast. I love Dark Marcy as well, the sarcasm and all those times they bullied King Andrias that made him look so small and... well... lack of a better word, pathetic. 

As you can see, I hate King Andrias and will continue to hate him because he never gave me the impression that he’s redeemable. He may be a misguided kid, but he should be smart enough to think about Leif’s decision and everything else that happened over and over and over for one thousand years. But no, he’s bent on “taking revenge” on his friends. And now, he just seems so fucking salty that he failed before he even began to prove himself to his father and to everyone.

And Leif... I... couldn’t say I like her. I can’t deny that she did a really good job in being loyal to her own morals and beliefs, but... she agreed to the invasion earlier without any thoughts of how it’ll affect the other party until she saw the vision. It felt very hypocritical of her. So... yup.

And since we didn’t have any opening and ending themes for this episode, I’m anticipating a new one next week. Well... honestly, the ending theme can stay. It’s a very nice animation done by hardworking people. But the opening theme... the characters are now in Amphibia and it’s the final set of episodes. They should have an updated one already.

Anyway, I give this episode a 10/10. Perfect... because of my boy, Barrel. XD

[aturinfortheworse]

There's a couple of story ideas where I have such a good story sorted out, I know all the main characters and I know exactly what happens and I could basically write the entire thing in one sitting if my fragile human body could keep up with it.

(One of them is called Salamander's Champion and it's about a guy called Salamander who hires a widow to fight for him in a tournament where the prize is Your Heart's Desire, right, but only for one of you. He agrees to give her the prize, so that she can bring her husband back from the dead, because all he needs is the title, so that he can marry his true love. Predictably they win, only for Salamander's true love to be killed. dun dun dun)

I haven't written bloody any of them. Which I was about to lament but then it occurred to me that for all the stories I keep writing, I don't know what's going to happen. I wouldn't go so far as to say it's easy to write a hundred thousand words when you don't know what they're going to be, but it's a lot more fun than playing ghost-writer to yourself.

[relax-and-read-on]

What would be your take on a sit-down dinner atmosphere for the chapters?

(Hope you feel better soon, sending good vibes your way <3)

Thank you friend!! The painkiller are helping a bit, but now all I can do is wait. Anway, I choose to interpret this as "wich restaurant each legion would enjoy the most", because it's way too much fun to imagine a bunch of giant space marines in power armors all pressing into a tiny dinner boot. I'm also gonna keep to the original 18, because.... If I get into successor, I will still be there next month lmao. If anyone want to see a specific successor chapter, ask me awayyyy

Dark Angels: Bed and breakfast. They just... Adore a good traditional homemade english breakfast. Bonus point if it's in the countryside.

Awkward silence

Emperor's Children: Love novelty places. The kind that you can eat sushi's from someone's body, or where you eat in the dark, or those weird "dinner in the sky" experience. Most likely to invite other legions to come along, and only half to watch them sqwirm.

Iron Warriors: They all argue about wich establishment is clearly superior, and they end up in some kind of weird vegans smoothie and salad place. They all collectively hate it, but they are too prideful to say it.

White Scars: Hot. Pot. Place. That's just evident. If they wanna be frisky, they go for a korean barbecue or suisse fondue. As long as it's a big shared meal, they are happy

Space Wolves: find the weirdest, most shady looking Irish pub. Any normal human would catch salmonella from those horrible half cooked burger, but they love it.

Imperial Fist: They like the cafeteria style place. It maximise your time allowed and you can make the proper choices depending on a limited amount of options.

Night Lords: Not allowed in any restaurant. You can find them in the back alley of a greasy american-chinese spot, eating straight from the garbage can. Think the rats they find there are just bonus protein.

Blood Angels: they like the very fancy italian places. With white table cloth and everything. Never leave a stain anywhere.

Iron Hands: don't like to go out, but would probably enjoy a good panini/sandwich place.

*insert wind noise here*

World Eaters: It has to be a mom n' pop dinner, and they will *force* themself to behave. They especially enjoy sugary breakfast food, like pancakes and waffles.

Ultramarines: will eat at any place, but are always major pain in the ass, as they will ask about the exact nutritional value of each meals and what are every single options that can be changed.

Death Guard: They found their favorite hole in the wall Thai place, and they come back like clockwork. Probably order the same damn soup every time.

Thousand sons: they like to go around and try various restaurant, but they go RABID when they discover molecular cooking, and now hunt for those specific restaurant.

Sons of Horus/Black Legion: All you can eat buffet. The weird ones with too many type of mediocre food. They have a great time anyway.

Word bearers: Lil headcanon, but I imagine them actually having some religious restrictions to their diet. As such, they probably frequent very few restaurant, but are EXTRA grateful when they can find a place to accomodate them. Love Algerian-style food.

Salamander: Barbecue place. And they will actually make a point of honor about trying every single style of grilled meat you can find, like jerk, brazilian, american, korean...

Raven Guard: will 100% be found in a hypster coffee shop, eating all the pastry they have. They bicker on who gets the last chocolate croissant.

Alpha Legion: those mf get galactic uber eat. Straight up mcdonald or Taco bell, delivered to their spaceship door.

[bowandcurtsey]

financing sounds hard omg good luckkk 💕

also also, i have more stoopidddd 😌

BC boys + 'why are you upside down?' 'i'm stimulating blood flow to the brain'

lmao i just had the crack thought of fue finding you and salamander hanging upside down from a tree branch or something and salamander's all 'i dont actually know why im doing this but it looked fun and master's SO is doing it so it cant be that bad' 😂 - ninja, except my mac is so old that i dont have a ninja emoji to use

NINJA UwU You're not stupid! don't call yourself that; your requests are always a joy to write! And ninja... hanging upside down DOES help improve brain function, according to some sites hahahaha!

Fuegoleon | Nozel | William | Yami x f! reader

Fuegoleon Vermillion

"Why are you hanging from a tree branch love?" he found you in the Vermillion family garden on afternoon.

"Stimulating blood flow to the brain, I feel that my brain has been a little rusty recently."

".... and why is salamander flying upside down too?" he raised an eyebrow, trying to not question you.

"hmm. he saw me doing it for some time and then he decided to try doing it too."

"seems your brain is really rusty Sal." he commented with a deadpan expression on his face, gazing at salamander.

Salamander blew smoke from his nostrils, taking offence at his statement.

"Honey," Fue called out to you, ignoring salamander's little tantrum, "get down, hanging upside down for too long is not good, I’ll teach you how to improve your brain function.. the easier way."

You’d be dead solving all them sudoku puzzles in the next weeks.

Nozel Silva

"what in the world...?" he jumped a little, coming into the room and seeing you hanging yourself upside down from the ceiling with your magic.

"what in tarnation are you doing y/n?!" he was frustrated that you gave him a fright like that, he thought you hung yourself or something.

"I'm stimulating blood flow to my brain darling.."

"Get down. I'm not asking a second time." the royal glared at you, and you got down in seconds, your face red from the blood flow.

"the doc said I have mild anaemia which is why I feel light headed sometimes, so I thought stimulating blood flow to my brains would help with the dizzy spells." you explained as a matter of factly.

Nozel looked at you wide eye with your explanation, he wanted to say something sarcastic but he held back his words because he just adored you too much to upset you.

"I'll have the servants cook nutritious food for you, starting from today." he let out a sigh, "just.. don't do such a reta.. ridiculous thing again."

William Vangeance

He saw you hanging in one of the trees in the gardens from his office.

"What in the world are you doing love?" there was worry and concern in his voice, "get down from there before you hurt yourself."

He went up there and carried you down before you could answer him.

"I'm getting blood stimulation to my brain dear!" you explained with a proud beam on your face.

"And why do you need that?" the golden dawn captain raised his eyebrows, puzzled.

"So that I could think better! I wanted to help you think of a good strategy, but I couldn't think of any." you furrowed your eyes and pursed your lips.

"oh love.." he shook his head a little and smiled, heartened that you were thinking for him, "please do it safely, not hanging from a tree, you may fall and hurt yourself."

He patted your head, "also you shouldn't do it for too long and under this sun.. But thank you for your kind gesture," he kissed your forehead.

Yami Sukehiro (ft. Zora)

"dafug you doin babe?" Yami raised his brows at you, looking amused; you were hanging upside down from the pull up bar.

"Blood stimulation to brain baby." you explained, "Can't think of anything new for my writes."

"oh? It helps?" Yami came face to face with you, looking at your face upside down. "Anyway babe your face really looks funny upside down." He chuckled a little, giving you a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Ohhh! This is like the spiderman kiss baby!" you squealed excitedly, "oh my god, new idea!"

"huh. what spider?" Yami cocked his head to one side, "but okay since it helped you maybe I should try it too."

He got onto another pull up bar and hung himself upside down. You both looked at each other and laughed.

"Babe, you look kinda funny, upside down yet right side up." you laughed, "okay okay let's meditate a little and get blood flow to the brain."

About a few minutes later, Zora walks in and he jumped seeing the two of you hanging outside down.

"The fuck the two of you doing?!" his brows furrowed so hard that it almost connected in the middle.

"stimulating blood flow. to the brain." Yami explained to the masked man.

"Are you both dumb or retarded?" Zora scoffs, shaking his head in dismay, "you're gonna kill yourself for hanging like that so long, your faces are about to burst."

When the two of you got down, Zora started lecturing you two about the benefits and risks for being inverted.

"Man I knew my captain was not very bright, but y/n? You disappointed me." Zora rolled his eyes at both of you.

-end-

According to a few sites: Hanging upside down for about 30 seconds to a min helps relief back pain temporarily, optimises posture, improve focus and brain function and even increased flexibility.

Buttttt it is not good for people that suffer from high blood pressure, or have heart problems. and if you don't do it right it may cause fracture, glaucoma, osteoporosis or even hernia..

So.... I guess... Listen to Fue and do your sudoku puzzles. ( ´ ▽ ` )b

[chudleycanonficfest]

the hippogriffs and the flobberworms

Day 23, Post #2 by @accio-broom

Title: the hippogriffs and the flobberworms Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Arthur & Ron Weasley (platonic) Prompt: slice of life Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Mentions of sex lives and STDs, very cringe-worthy.

Arthur whistles as he roams the ground floor of the Burrow, searching for his youngest son. Ron’s best friend Hermione is due to arrive any day, ready to spend the latter part of the summer holiday with the Weasleys, but there are some things Arthur needs to speak to Ronald about before Miss Granger joins them.

He’s probably left this conversation a little late—Ron turned fourteen a few months ago—but this is the first time the youngest has shown any interest in the opposite sex. With the rather exciting activities coming up for their fourth school year, including a ball, it’s only inevitable that different feelings will start to stir.

Chuckling, Arthur reminisces about the conversations with his other sons. Bill, always cool as a frost salamander, kept his focus on his old Dad without any outward discomfort, even though Arthur made a complete mess as he told Bill about the facts of life. All of Arthur’s words came out in a massive jumble—he couldn’t even use the correct terms for various body parts and used all the wrong euphemisms. Arthur had been trying so hard to be a cool dad that he got himself far too worked up to make any sense. 

His second son, Charlie, was dismissive and didn’t seem interested in the mechanics of making love, which was disappointing given the amount of time Arthur had spent rehearsing, determined to get it right that time. Percy approached the conversation with logic and appropriate questions, discussing it as he would an important Ministry policy before thanking his dad then leaving the room without a backwards glance. In stark contrast, the twins cracked inappropriate jokes and turned the tables on Arthur, making him feel awkward as innuendo after innuendo spewed from their mouths.

Ron will be Arthur’s last chance to do “the talk”. Molly is responsible for dealing with Ginny, and they’ve probably already started. He doesn’t baulk at the female aspect of puberty, having lived with a woman for almost twenty-five years, he’s well versed in the potions and muggle contraptions they need to use, but he thought it only fair that Molly gets a go of this, too. It’s one of the essential parts of being a parent, after all. 

Although Arthur is well-seasoned in explaining the facts of life without going overboard with the detail or using cringe-worthy phrases now (although the twins did teach him a few new idioms), he has decided to step away from the ‘cool’ dad persona and go full-on over the top this time. 

He could make this easy for Ron, but why would Arthur want to spoil his own fun?

A flash of red hair leaving the broom shed catches his attention out of the kitchen window, and Arthur’s grin widens. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining, but there is a light breeze, keeping the air fresh and cool. It’s the sort of day that would lead to him fishing in the lake at the bottom of the garden, but he has a task at hand that he needs to deal with first. 

Maybe there’ll be time for him to get his rod out later.

Pouring two glasses of lemonade from the jug Molly has left on the side, Arthur uses a cooling charm on them then steps out from the backdoor and onto the patio. 

“Ron,” he calls, smiling as his son turns his head around faster than a niffler chasing gold, looking like Arthur has caught Ron doing something that he shouldn’t. Probably skiving from the long list of chores Molly gave him this morning. “Come up and have a chat with your old Dad.”

Arthur eases himself into the bench under the wisteria with a groan. Although he isn’t all that old, having seven children and living through a war takes its toll on a guy’s body. Now, every joint clicks and complains every time he moves. Forget getting somewhere in a hurry; slow and steady is now the way to go.

Ron settles in the seat next to him. 

“What’s up, Dad?” he asks, smiling at Arthur. He takes the offered drink, gulping almost half of it in one go before letting out a loud, satisfied sigh.

“Hermione is coming to stay with us before we go to the World Cup, I hear? But not Harry?”

Ears turning pink, Ron turns his head to look out at the garden. “Y-yeah. We’re going to collect Harry in a few days, remember?”

“Oh, yes. I’m very excited to be visiting the Muggles. Will they tell me about eckeltricity? Should I take my battery collection?”

Ron laughs. “I don’t think the Dursleys will be too impressed with batteries, Dad. They use them every day.”

“Shame.” Arthur sighs, then turns his eyes to gaze the same way as Ron’s. “So, Hermione is a girl.”

“Er, yes, I guess so.”

“A girl you’re attracted to?” Arthur glances at Ron, whose face has turned as white as a ghost.

Ron reacts with a knee-jerk response, but the look on his face indicates that he’s not telling the whole truth. “No!”

“Are you sure? You and her have gotten close lately. Mum and I like her.” Arthur waits a moment for Ron to take back his first response, then tuts when he stays quiet. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone you do like soon. Anyway, as you already know, she’ll be staying in Ginny’s room with your sister, and I’m sure you’re clear on the rules of the house. Your Mum does not want any sneaking around or late-night visits.”

Arthur doesn’t hold the same views as his wife. Sure, he doesn’t want the kids to be sleeping in each other’s beds, but he remembers the conversations he and his friends had during the early hours of the morning when he was their age. If the children wanted to get up to something, Arthur would rather it happen under their roof where they’re safe than have them take unnecessary risks. He and Molly were young once, too, although it feels like a lifetime ago now.

“I know, Dad.”

“Good. And so you know, if you ever find yourself feeling conflicted or wanting some advice on how to ask a lady out, you can always come to me. Because being a teenage lad is a very confusing time, and the magic will heighten this, as well as the fact that you live in proximity to some charming young women. You might not feel it right now, but you’re on the precipice of being a man. Your voice has started breaking. Sure, it’s a little later than the others, but I’m sure that’s nothing to worry about. Everyone develops at their own pace, after all. Pretty soon, you’ll have hairs sprouting all over the place, even in places you wouldn’t expect it. I can’t remember when all of this started happening for me, but it was around your age. And don’t get me started on the wet dreams…”

“Merlin,” Ron sighs, now squirming in his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. When Arthur checks again, his youngest is looking into the depths of his glass as if considering whether he could drown himself in there.

“Sex is healthy, son, especially if it’s with someone that you admire and love, whether that be a girl or a boy, Your mum and I don’t mind as long as you’re happy. And if you find the right person, then it can be amazing.”

A low groan emits from Ron’s mouth as he pushes himself further down the bench, attempting to put some distance between him and Arthur. 

“Please stop talking,” he pleads with bright red cheeks.

“Having a good sex life is nothing to be ashamed of, let me tell you. The seven of you weren’t delivered by the hippogriffs, after all. Not that we only have sex to procreate. Having you kids out of the house has done wonders for our love life. 

“While we’re on the subject, if you can’t get a partner, then there’s nothing wrong with taking matters into your own hand. Masturbation is very beneficial, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It’s important to explore your own body and learn the kind of things you like so that you can recreate those moments with a partner. I can tell you some useful charms if you need them—ones for when you’re with someone, and others for when you’re alone. Of course, there are some spells that are vital for you to learn. Safety is sexy, and you don’t want any little accidents happening.”

Ron runs his hand over his face as if trying to erase his dismay. “Dad. Please stop. I know all of this already. Not that I wa-I mean, do that sort of stuff.” 

He crosses his legs with a gulp, and Arthur feels a rush of joy. He’s succeeded in making his youngest son feel as awkward as possible. You have to take delight in the smallest of moments, especially the older you get. 

“Who told you?”

“I have five brothers and live in a dorm with four other boys. Also, Flitwick taught us the contraceptive charm last year.” Ron is still focused on his glass, looking like he wants to be a million miles away.

“Oh, right. ”

An irrational surge of disappointment crashes over Arthur. He should have realised that kids are far more advanced and talk much more than they did in his day. He should have bit the bludger earlier and nabbed him last summer.

“Well,” Arthur continues anyway, determined to see this through, “contraceptive charms aren’t the only things you need to learn. You need to ensure you protect yourself from Sexually Transmitted Diseases, or STDs, as well. Some of these can make you a little itchy, but others can be dangerous. You should go and see Madam Pomfrey if you think you might have one. Of course, you could always get some muggle con-domes. Fantastic little invention they are. Rather than trying to remember a load of different spells while you’re in the heat of passion, you can whack on a rubber and get to it.”

He doesn’t allow Ron’s small squeak to put him off his speech, now he’s in full flow again. “Talking about getting to it. Consent is important. When you decide to take that step, or even before when you snog someone, you need to make sure they want to do it too. Every step of the way. If they say no, you stop right away, even if they said yes only a minute previously. You must understand that. Never force yourself on someone, especially if they are drunk or otherwise intoxicated. If they can’t say yes, it’s a no-go. Got it?”

“I-I d-do,” Ron stutters, his voice strained under the embarrassment of the situation. “C-Can I go now?”

“Yes, yes, of course. But don’t forget that I’m here if you need anything, son. Even if you think it might get you into trouble. And look after Hermione, even if your feelings for her are only platonic. I admire the way you, her and Harry have formed a little group. The three of you are good for each other.”

Arthur reclines on the bench and closes his eyes, letting out a sigh as the sun warms his face. There’s no point getting one’s wand in a knot over spilt potion. He still managed to get Ron squirming like a flobberworm, so it was mostly a successful mission.

The bench shifts as Ron rises to his feet. He finishes his drink with a gulp and sets the glass down on the floor before shuffling away.

“Dad?” a small voice asks.

When Arthur opens his eyes, he spots Ron towering over him. When did he get so lanky? Ron is going to be the tallest of the family, for sure. There’s a smile on his face, though he still can’t meet his Dad’s gaze.

“Yeah, Son?” Arthur asks, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Thanks for trying.”

Ron shrugs, then wanders back down the garden, his gangly frame hunched over. Arthur marvels at Ron’s response. You think you fully understand your children, and then they do something that knocks you off your broom. But Ron is a decent lad, and Arthur knows he will go far, like the rest of them.

With a happy sigh, he leans back and closes his eyes again. He’s done an okay job at this parenting thing. As long as none of them gets arrested or tries to break into Gringotts, he can die a happy man.

[athetos]

all multiples of 5, for the asks!

Ty anon I have 4 more hours of training at work done with a text to speech voice on why insider trading is bad so this is enrichment for my rotting brain

5. What made you start your blog? I used to scroll tumblr without a blog to look at stuff for fullmetal alchemist and the world ends with you then finally decided maybe I should make my own account so I could save everything I liked. I never had any social media before this point (I had a flip phone until my second semester of college and relied on a computer desktop until I got a laptop my senior year of high school) so this unfortunately imprinted me pretty heavily. It’s still the only social media I use beyond Twitter which is leagues worse.

10. Would you say you’re an emotional person? Very, I get very attached to and protective of people I love and have high empathy, not in a cringe terminally online way but a “actually part of a medical diagnosis” way. It takes a lot of effort to keep my emotions in check, but I’ve gotten better at stepping away from situations to examine if my reactions are warranted or not.

15. What do you think of when you hear the word home? Christmas Eve with my mom’s side of the family. Im not religious but my family celebrates and it’s one of the few times we can all come together and have fun. I love baking with them and ordering pizza and exchanging early gifts, listening to bad music, it’s really nice. I hope I can fly home for the holidays this year.

20. Favorite things about the night? It used to be taking my dog out so she could hunt around for frogs and salamanders, and I’d look for cool moths and the odd snake, but now that I’m in a city and she’s gone it’s mostly just having time to relax after a day of work and chores and playing games, reading, or talking to my friends. It’s decompressing times.

25. Fave season and why? Summer. I have seasonal depression so while I love the idea of autumn, I usually am moodier and the growing lack of daylight gets to me. I also have recently started birdwatching and visiting parks more so that ties into it.

30. What’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier? I have a playlist of punk and some adjacent genres specifically for my work commutes / if I’m in a bad mood and it really does help a lot! Also, my glow in the dark weighted blanket.

35. Do you trust easily? I’m typically an open person but anything very important I keep close to my chest to only closer friends. I think there’s only 3 people I trust fully and completely. Is that a big or a small number?

40. Any bad habits? I guess doomscrolling, I can’t think of anything super major beyond that. I’m trying to be kinder to myself about certain things.

[createandconstruct]

can i ask about amarant coral? the monk in red himself~

Can you ask about Amarant Coral? *cracks fingers* Oh I insist that you do. Welcome to my Amarant Appreciation Post:

favorite thing about them: First off best thing about Amarant? His theme. The percussion and the guitar. It’s great and it captures him so well. People out here like “take Amarant out of the game he adds nothing.” EXCUSE ME? You remove the Amarant you remove the Amarant Theme my friend and that is something I do NOT vibe with. 

least favorite thing about them: I wanna know more about him. Now Amarant doesn’t need a backstory or history in the game. In a sense, he already has one that connects him to Zidane and explains his motives and actions and eventual arc. But my issue is, Square never gave him anything else. If you look at Ultimania there’s additional lore about other characters, like Steiner for instance. You learn Steiner was a war orphan who was saved by the Pluto Knights - explaining his devotion to them. Amarant though? Square was like “uh... yeah he was born....? And then he uh got famous...? Idk then he met Zidane. You figure it out.” Square. I hate you. 18 years from his birth until he became “well known”. WHAT WAS HE DOING. WHY’D HE BECOME A SECURITY GUARD. WHAT WAS ON HIS RESUME. TELL MEEEE. Like, okay, what the actual in-game canon gives us on Amarant is sort of enough. He’s a purposely written mysterious “cool-guy” character so we’re given scraps to make him unknown but come on. In the published after-game canon, like Ultimania, we could have been given a bit more. He says he doesn’t remember anything about his origins or parents, but why. Was he another victim of Gaia’s wars? Probably. Was he born on a battlefield? Fighting for his life, living without comrades, taking scraps whenever he could? Was he betrayed when he was young? Is he a supposed to be a version of Zidane had he not been adopted into Tantalus by Baku??? These are questions I deserve answers to, Square.

favorite line: “’I can't just walk away. It goes against my nature...’ You're a real simpleton. Forget it, guys. There's no stopping this fool." I love this. Amarant figures Zidane out pretty quickly after Ipsen’s Castle. Zidane is hardheaded and also an actor. He acts cool and pretends his reasons for doing things are loose but when he’s decided something it’s always for a reason. You don’t need a reason to help people, but Zidane has his reasons for helping Kuja and while Amarant doesn’t give two shits what they are he knows Zidane won’t be stopped because, despite everything, Zidane saved a loser like him. Also this line “Tell me! Why didn't you kill me!?" Because I quote it all the time and it makes myself laugh. Amarant is such a drama queen and Zidane knows it. Zidane’s like “dude... what is your damage, it’s 5 pm on Tuesday in Madain Sari. I ain’t getting blood on my gloves cause you’re having a temper tantrum.” And then Amarant runs away to have an existential crisis. He’s 26 but compared to Zidane, he’s the real teenager with angst.  

brOTP: I could talk about Zidane or Freya with Amarant but instead I’m gonna say the underrated dynamic of Amarant and Eiko (and also Vivi).  Amarant with the kids is truly the greatest gift given by his presence in the game. Amarant has never known true suffering until he became a designated legal guardian of a group of minors. It also kills me how he’s the one to volunteer to carry Eiko and Vivi up the Iifa tree. He looks at Zidane and is like “you have seriously been the ‘adult’ of this group???”

OTP: Gotta say the Freya and Amarant dynamic. I really enjoyed their unlikely friendship in the game but then the content. The fan content. The Freya x Amarant fans out there, you win. Ya got me. You captured me and I am now imprisoned by their banter and begruntled allies to lovers story. Even if they’re not romantic I love them together and really wish the game gave us more of them. But even Lani and Amarant together are valid, though I prefer them as butting head bros. Not much content for my girl Lani out there either, she deserves more.

nOTP: Nothing I can think of. I tend to like platonic pairings for Amarant. The dude needs friends because he can barely define the word friendship.

random headcanon: Before Zidane returns at the end of the game Amarant wanders around a bit, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t feel any place with the others in Alexandria, Burmecia, or Lindblum. I imagine he goes off on his own for a bit like before but this time he’s not after Zidane or a fight. Instead he’s got no particular destination. Yet he somehow always finds himself running into people just like him - or the old him - friendless lonely people who are looking for a fight. He doesn’t go out his way to find these folks he simply runs into them and decides he might as well knock some sense into them. He does however make it his business to go after any murmur of people hatching any ideas of going after the far off little village on the Lost Continent. The home of the genomes and black mages. They were so helpless, so weak that anyone who’d want to mess with them is pathetic in Amarant’s book. Until Zidane returns, no one has the chance to even look at the Black Mage Village the wrong way because in the shadows Amarant lurks, making damn well sure of that.

unpopular opinion: I kinda love that he’s just there for most of the game? While I agree he gets the short end of the stick in the same way as Freya, not receiving additional individual character spotlight (which could have very well been supplied through discoverable lore in the world/npcs or through sidequests) I never considered his “standing off to the side” as a detriment to his character. 

Many would probably agree that Amarant always felt like a bit of a parody of the loner character, or at least the stereotype of the loner character. Amarant is so easily paralleled with Squall and Cloud’s surface-level attitudes because his dialogue always felt like something to poke fun at. As the player we’re supposed to align with Zidane’s way of thinking and how he views Amarant. When Amarant loses to Zidane and pretty much grits his teeth and goes “KILL ME,” along with Zidane we’re supposed to kinda raise our brow at him and go “...really, dude?”

 Amarant’s a character introduced as an antagonist who has more in common with the power hungry villains of the game. Like many of the characters in FFIX, Amarant is in search of purpose in life, which he has never found, because he was always looking in the wrong places - in places of violence and power. Very toxic-masculinity of him. Amarant is “cool” on an aesthetic level but in reality he’s the polar opposite of cool in terms of what FFIX states about the need for others to be intertwined in your experiences so that you can live a full life. 

I sort of love that he’s like a grumpy pitball following a 16 year old and his friends around. Then he sits in the corner when they all meet up and discuss current events acting like he doesn’t care (not to mention he casually walks as everyone is running as fast as they can to escape Terra - made me laugh cry on my first playthrough) He is “just there” but that’s because he has no where else to be, no where else to go, he’s a man without a home. And until Zidane offers his hand, at the point where Amarant is most willing to take it at Ipsen’s Castle, he’s not truly a party member. He IS an outsider for almost the entire game but at Ipsen Castle he joins the party, becomes a comrade, and decides he’ll allow himself to change paths and start a life where he has friends and lives, as well as fights for them. Which is why after that moment, Amarant finally has a victory pose.

song i associate with them: I was scratching my head for so long trying to think of a song or track that had Amarant vibes until it hit me. Outskirt Stand by Tsukasa Tawada (from Pokemon Colosseum). Amarant is so chill, he’s not a bombastic guy, so he needs a theme that drops me in the rocky open desert of the Lost Continent like I’m just lumbering around looking for a monkey-tailed menace. Some other Amarant tunes:  Pyrite Town, The Under, Snagem Hideout tracks from Pokemon Colosseum. This post is just an elaborate call to action for everyone to listen to the Pokemon Colosseum soundtrack. Tsukasa Tawada is so great and he has a YouTube. Check him out.

favorite picture of them:

Yoshitaka Amano’s Salamander Coral. I love him. He had too much power. 

Also everything drawn by @crispy-ghee. Everything. I will think of this Comic forever until I die. Tattoo it on my flesh. The banter, the dynamics, the post-game content, the Zidane prince-consort outfit, the new Amarant outfit, the stuck-in-the-same-place relationship him and Freya have. Perfect. Go read it and consume Crisipy’s stuff. And also check them and their current art out, they just consistently get better and better. Here’s a first panel preview of my fav comic. Read it.

 @hannahlady​‘s Amarant art and their Freya/Amarant art is just ugh. *Chef’s Kiss* Here is another preview because you should go look at it.

Here’s a piece that deserves so much more love by @snackage. I LOVE how they drew Amarant. Here’s a little preview. It’s SO GOOD

Anyway TL;DR: Amarant is love and life and you’ll have to pull him from my little gremlin hands.