#i need to go write and not cry

[pieofdeath]

someone stop me from doing things that are bad for me.

[bluerosefox]

Always Favors You

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposal and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

[wishchip106]

i’ve been using my brain more than its used to

gonna think about gay mutant road trip hope my brain doesn’t explode

[karasu4life]

Man I love my snookers, my cutie pie, my cinnamonroll covered in frosting, blue glazing and fading in light purple. I love my man, my pookers, the love of my life, my everything, I love Tabito more than my life.

God, loved him since I saw him for the first time. I love you Karasu, I've read every single one of his fanfictions (shout-out to Five ways to kill a Crow), I've analyzed him more than four times in my mind when I was bored in class, I've never been more delusional. I absolutely adore him, I absolutely want him.

I've watched every single episode of the second season since he's been animated, I have screenshoted EVERY SINGLE FRAME he's in, I don't care if he looks ugly, I don't care. I've read Hiori's light novel and Nagi's episode more than ten times because bro, HE'S THERE.

I'm not just a horny someone, my feelings are genuine for him. When I am a poor old woman in the future, my last words will be "I love you, Karasu Tabito".

Y'know what hell yeah

Fuck I even made an oc x canon. He's going to be the death of me

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[just-null]

Wowie rly digging the yandere clone headcanons… how would each react if their darling tried to run away from them?!

You said tried so I assume this was a failed attempt!

Short answer: they get really upset and try making it your fault (shocker.) Ain't no way any of these mfs think they're the problem. Good news! you're mostly unharmed and alive.

This will just be purely writing bc i mostly had thoughts! sorry no drawing this time!!

[cw! mentions of potential harm to reader (no actual harm done), manipulation, toxic relationship dynamics (yandere flavor), obsessive behavior]

Sekido

You're always being hunted the moment the sun comes down and you don't return home in time. Reasons like that are exactly why he hates it when you part from him. 

This time is different.. he can't find you in your usual spots. There's no fucking way, right?

How could you.. No, how DARE you? Do you think that he's some joke? That his feelings for you are something that you can run away from like it's nothing? 

The second he's sure the sun won't harm him, he's already white knuckling his khakkhara, swinging at anything and everything in his path until he gets to you.

They know how to sense if you're near or not, hell, they probably know how your specific blood type smells like. 

Did you think cuddling up to you and memorizing every detail about you was for nothing? Don't be stupid. All he needs is a trace of you and he's gone in the blink of an eye.

You better enjoy running while you can because when he catches you, and he will, those legs of yours won't have much use after he's done with them. 

Sekido doesn't WANT to do this, but you honestly give him no choice. After he trusted you enough to stop looking over his shoulder, you do this? How can he ever put any faith in you again!?

On the bright(?) side, Sekido's rage wouldn't be solely on you, it'll ricochet onto everyone, especially the other clones and himself. 

They were supposed to be looking after you! But they can't do anything right, even a task as simple as this. 

And why did he think it was a good idea to trust them with something of big importance when all they do is fuck everything up!? Everyone's idiocy is rubbing off on him!

The entire time on his search for you, he's cursing and wanting to crush anything he can get his hands on, especially your bones. 

He doesn't even bother with speaking to the others, too busy spewing out all sorts of hurtful and frustrated comments about everything. 

The brutal thought that you’d rather run away than be with him isn't one he wants to entertain, but it's echoing in his head.

At least, once the other clones get there, Karaku and Aizetsu brawl with Sekido so you're unharmed while Urogi carries you overhead. 

Sekido's jealousy flares up when he sees you in Urogi's arms, making him even more pissed if that's even possible. Great, now he looks like the bad guy and the other three, the saviors. Fucking perfect.

There's a lot of yelling and a lot of blood, especially with Urogi making things so much more annoyingly difficult in the air. Karaku and Aizetsu aren't helping. Why is Sekido suddenly the problem?! You ran away!! 

But when he calms down enough, he's cursing at everyone through clenched teeth. Sometimes trying to convince the others that you don't even need your legs anyway!!

Once you get back home (or temporary prison until you somehow regain favor), Sekido will eye your legs while gripping his staff from time to time. 

Exactly why he's forbidden to be in a room alone with you for a while until he settles down..

He glares at you more often and grows colder than before. Arguments are more common where he twists your words just to have you talk with him and be angry within reason. 

Any other type of conversation makes him so irrationally upset that the others need to step in so that he doesn't lose his temper again.

Karaku

The calmest out of the group. He brushes it off as “you're playing hard to get” again, and if he makes a ruckus, you'll scamper back and beg him to stop like always!

Then it gets darker out.. and when Sekido left, he seemed pretty pissed. Like more than usual..... shit.

Karaku sprints after Sekido when it clicks that he's found you. His mind starts reeling, unsure whether he should laugh at the absurdity of your decisions or get pissed off because you didn't even bother to give a hint! 

Not like that would do anything aside from give you away but regardless!

Everyone needs to relax, this is obviously something they can sweep under the rug. This isn't that big of a deal and you're just having a fit, but things like these can get you hurt, y'know? 

They're fun and all, sure, just maybe give him a heads up next time, yeah? Sekido can't take a joke, you know this!!! Still.. There's a way Karaku can work with this.

He'll be able to swoop in, save you, be your hero, and remind you why staying with him is kinda important. Just in case you forgot~ 

You don't wanna be out and about without his charming grin and protective hold would you? Don't answer that right now, he has a feeling you'll say something wrong!

Yet.. what if you need a firmer hand to remind you of what Karaku provides? What if you got a little too comfortable being protected so you thought you'd be alright leaving them? Man, who knew you could be spoiled!

Because of this, he would purposely fumble, letting Sekido get near you just so he can stop him at the perfect moment. He purposely gets hit too and makes sure some blood gets near you. To remind you how that could've been yours.

When Sekido calms down, Karaku laughs in your face and would pinch your cheeks if you weren't up in the air with Urogi on the way home.

You should've seen your face! It was really cute~! Maybe getting scared is your thing? He'll note that for later.

He offhandedly advises you not to do things like that all the time, fighting Sekido always kinda sucks, but it's not like you actually had a chance of successfully running away so he won't chastise you too much for it. 

That's not his job, and his heart hasn’t pumped that fast in a long time.. not even in a fight! You're so amazing~~

And delusional if you think he's not going to milk this “heroism” thing back there for some extra affection points with you. 

Don't be so mean. he got his head blown off twice and jaw dislocated thrice, not to mention everywhere else on his body. Don't you think those parts of him need some extra loving? more than usual?

There's not that much Karaku can say after that aside from reminiscing like it was a funny story. He's not upset about it, mostly a little miffed you got kinda far without him noticing, but he gets over it. 

The usual routine starts back up for him when you're back home. It's like nothing happened, but he keeps a closer eye on you since everyone's so tense.

Urogi

If you're not home before the sun sets, Urogi's clawing at the walls with stress. He usually accompanies Sekido to go find you, but this time is different. Urogi could just barely tell you were around.. When Sekido bolts, Urogi's flying as fast as he can, trying to find you first. 

You're so far.. you must've gotten kidnapped!!!!!

The stress from before burns into anger, expecting to see someone having their hands on you while you're calling out in vain. How could he let this happen?! Damn sun! 

He darts through the skies even faster imagining it, and when he finally reaches you, you look.. fine? and alone. and looking at him like he's the danger. He's here to save you, dummy..

Urogi falls to his knees, burying his face against your stomach and finally wrapping his arms around you again. Your fists violently hit his head and yank fistfuls of hair back, but it doesn't phase him. 

Your comforting warmth is back, that's all that matters. And god, your smell.. it's almost making him dizzy. He missed you so much.

There's many holes to the story in Urogi's head as to why you're so far from home, but he fills them in with more convoluted delusions. It's just a peaceful reunion right now.. 

That is until Sekido finally arrives and starts swinging his khakkhara way too close to your fragile bones. 

Now he's back in defense mode where he scoops you up and tries flying out of reach. This is so stressful!!! There's lightning everywhere and he keeps having to dodge the multiple staffs thrown his way. 

He shields you with his wings as best he can while trying to stay in the air, so you don't get hurt during Sekido's outburst.

In the skies, it's much clearer to see the hurt behind the haunting glow of Urogi's eyes. Did you care about how he might feel? Did you miss him at all? Did you not feel loved enough? Did someone say something to you? 

As he maneuvers the sky, he holds you as tightly as possible, lightly digging his talons into your skin.

Being without you for a couple hours is agonizing enough on its own. If you HAD left him, abandoned, cold, alone.. he doesn't want to think about it. All that matters is that your kidnappers or liars or whatever influenced you are gone, and you're back safe with them!!! 

You.. you still like him, right? Of course you do, fate wouldn't force your paths together if it wasn't for a reason!

Coming back home is uncomfortably tense, especially with how violently Aizetsu kicked Urogi across the room, nearly through the wall, when he tried to lick your wounds clean. It really hurt! 

When you're patched up, Urogi is ten times as clingy if that's possible. He has his arms looped around you constantly so you can't stray too far, and if his hands are busy, he always has his wings!

As happy as he is that you're back, he can't help but cry into your chest sometimes. Everything is so tense nowadays, he hates it! How could you go and do something like that? Apologize immediately! Or at least hold him too? Doubt creeps in a lot, and your attitude isn't helping.. 

His mood swings are stronger. From sobbing uncontrollably into your clothes to being all smiles and radiating with joy the next just because you said something vaguely decent.

Aizetsu

The demotivation started to creep in the second you left. During the day, Aizetsu sits by the door, wanting to be the first one you properly greet. Sekido and Urogi usually bring you back and he'll be the one in your good graces without lifting a finger. That sounds nice.. 

But as the footsteps fade and the silence lingers, Aizetsu feels miserable the longer he waits... Hold on, silence?

Before he realizes what's happening, he's already dashing to where the familiar commotion is coming from. Dread sets in as his legs take him as fast as they can whilst being the slowest of the four. This doesn't feel like they're rushing over to you after a long day, it feels.. dangerous?

What did you get yourself into..? Why do you insist on going to places Aizetsu can't follow? Are you safe? He hates not knowing.

Usually you're the one who's fine. You deal with four demons almost daily! Please please please be okay. He can't fathom it if you were hurt. 

When he gets there, the puzzle pieces fall into place and Aizetsu gets even more depressed, but at least you're not hurt. Well, not if he interferes. His movements are sluggish, a perpetual frown plastered on his face as he tries holding Sekido down. 

Aizetsu wants to dissolve into the floor, and he does sometimes. Not wanting to fight Sekido off anymore, he slumps over. 

This could've been a regular day where you came home.. Are you serious? Leaving? How pitiful could you be to actually think you could get away? Or was it that you wanted to play some sick joke on them? Well, it's not very funny... It's terrible actually.

Aizetsu stays silent on the way home, walking with a bit more energy knowing you're near despite his heart ache.

You can feel the harrowing disappointment radiating off of him the moment you all go back home.

He's tired, annoyed, and so unbelievably upset. Aizetsu grimaced when Urogi got near your scratches with his tongue, so he “politely” ushered him away. 

Knowing a human's weak points is good in battle, but he started trying to learn how to heal them, specifically because he knew these types of things might happen.

As he cleans your scratches, he's actively scolding you for leaving in a cold emotionless tone. And by scolding, he's using manipulative language, trying to make you guilty for everything you did. 

He barely has the energy to live, but now that he finally found his light in the darkness, you want to leave? Is it so wrong he wants to hold onto what makes him even a smidgen happier than usual? He reminds you that he'll wither away without you, but he's not really too keen on dying just yet.

When he tries to get back into a routine, he just can't. He knows why you left, but he doesn't want to hear it. Even if you're sweet to him or not, he'll hold you from behind when you rest.

Looking at you is too much, but being away from you is even worse. Aizetsu compromises this way, but gets quieter, occasionally sniffling when he hides his face behind you.

There's too much going on and he's so tired.. If it weren't for the others, he probably would've held you so tight for so long so that you both would perish together.

Maybe that’s why he's only allowed to hold you when you're asleep. Just please don't do that again.. He NEEDS you. Please, please, please.

Safe to say you gave them a scare. When they double down on the protectiveness, living is ten times more difficult for EVERYBODY. when you lose their trust, it's pretty difficult to gain it back, but not impossible!!

Sekido and Urogi will always assume the worst if you're gone for too long while Karaku and Aizetsu give you a little more freedom until the others drag them along into their worries.

[marshmallowdarling]

I had a really shitty interview this afternoon (that wasn’t even a proper interview it was like 2 minutes tops), SO IM PROJECTING THAT ONTO THE OLD MEN I LIKE!!! John Price who drives you to your interview, lets you practice your lines onto him and presses little kisses onto your forehead or hair while you get ready. When you leave his truck, because he has a truck fucking fight me- he gets out too open your door for you like a gentleman and gives you one last kiss before squeezing your shoulders softly and rubbing up and down your arms for one last “Good luck sweetheart”. 

John Price who once seeing you leave the place early can already see your face and immediately wraps you in his arms, rubbing your back while letting you angrily rant to him while he leads you back to his truck. 

“I know kid, I know. You did so well.”  He gets you ice cream and some food, letting you calm down with your ice cream and only once he can see your more stable ask’s you what happened. 

John Price who nods along and lets out an annoyed click of his tongue when you spill how the guy ONLY read your CV and Resume on the spot, you didn’t even get to talk to him properly or tell him your strengths or weakness’s before he shooed you away with a ‘we will reach out soon’. 

John Price who gets pissed on behalf of you when he hears this but keeps it together when your anger fades away to sadness. Rubbing your back and whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he lets you cry, keeping you wrapped up in his arms. 

John Price who when you finally get back home drops to his knees, which takes a bit because time in the army will do a number on your body, to take off your shoes. Large fingers gently massaging your calf and ankle while he slips on shoe off, pressing a kiss to the side of your knee before mimicking that on your other leg. 

John Price who pampers you for the rest of the night, letting you cry on his shoulder but stealing kisses and tells you that you did so well and they are idiots to do that to you and not hire you. 

[fun-esta]

[wantonlywindswept]

forgotten fox ficbit

With Palpatine's dying breath, he curses Fox to be Forgotten.

(Fox isn't really bothered.)

---

There was a personnel transfer authorization sitting in Marshal Commander Thorn's crowded inbox.

He didn't remember requesting a fourth commander. The Guard was in desperate need of one following Thire finding Palpatine's wrinkled ass dead in his office, and the ensuing shitshow about the former Chancellor being a Sith and also controlling the war from both sides. Interim Chancellor Organa was incredibly competent and parsecs better than their previous natborn overlord, but even he was being swamped by the uproar in the Senate and the peace talks with the Separatists and the doubled amount of assassination attempts and the petabytes and petabytes of datawork--

Thorn couldn't remember requesting another commander, but he also couldn't remember the last time he slept.

Commander Vertex stood calm and at the ready on the other side of Thorn's desk, all-black helmet tucked under his arm as he waited patiently for Thorn to remember how to read. His hair was stark white, and there were vine-like scars wrapped around his neck that disappeared down into his blacks. The remnants of Sith lightning, Thorn knew, now that they'd been briefed on what that kind of thing looked like. 

Vertex's file was sparse, mostly redacted, and marked him as coming from the Special Operations Brigade, which Thorn could entirely believe.

"This isn't part of an investigation, is it?" he blurted, brain-to-mouth filter entirely gone after five too many cups of caf and an inadvisable number of stims over the past month. "The Guard was already cleared of suspicion involving the former Chancellor's death--"

Vertex held up a hand. Thorn's mouth snapped shut. 

"It's not," Vertex said, his voice firm, reassuring. There was something about it that made Thorn relax, as if his beleaguered hindbrain knew that the other commander had everything under control.

Spec Ops troops were amazing.

"The GAR is just reallocating resources given the recent upheaval," Vertex continued. Thorn nodded along like that all made sense. "I'm here to help with anything you need."

The word 'help' triggered a sudden burst of manic hope in Thorn's chest, and he lurched forward across his desk, grabbing Vertex's free hand in both of his own. The commander didn't even blink at the sudden movement, calmly meeting Thorn's wide, desperate eyes.

"Can you--" Thorn struggled to keep from sounding like he was begging, which he definitely was. "Can you do datawork?"

Vertex's sigh was entirely exasperated, and the roll of his eyes oddly, familiarly fond.

"Yes, Thorn. I can do your datawork."

---

Pt 2

[quiescentem-puella]

Till's expressing himself through clothing – a rant

today's sad alnst thought of the day is that no matter how you view round 6, I think it's undeniable that ivan was able to give back to till a piece of himself that he lost after witnessing round 5

and i'm talking about this

I think Till outfits are important when it comes to discerning his mental state/attitude, both because of plot-related reasons (imo Till has a degree of power over deciding or at least selecting his clothes) and also character design (in a media like alnst, where most things are said by showing them, it's clear that vivimeng put lots of thought behind the visuals). We know nothing about the behind-the-scenes between r6 and r7, so we can just LOOK at Till to see if something changed

I said that Till has some power over his outfit choices because he's the only one who personalizes them, or so it looks like. It's very much in Till's rebellious nature to vandalize his outfits and I think both the r2 outfit (the spray-painted t-shirt, the patch hiding his branding, the lack of shoes) and the scene we see in the top 3 video (with graffiti all over the room and paint all over him) are proof of that. He's always shown drawing and doodling, so i think it's a fair assumption that when we see that on his clothing, it's his handiwork.

And that... disappears in round 6. Whether we look at his outfit in the actual round or when he's entertaining segyeins, he's dressed in muted, dark clothing. Very put together for his previous standards, almost elegant with his delicate, silver accessories (thin chains and tasteful earrings)

Gone is the asymmetry and the rage. Till is mourning and so he dresses for a funeral... either for Mizi (who's gone and presumed(?) dead) or for himself (without Mizi, he has no reason to keep going. he entered alien stage and stayed in anakt for her). Whether he 1) chose his outfits before and let the aliens take over in his grief or 2) fought the aliens on previous outfits to personalize them and stopped after r5, i think in both cases his clothes show how much he has given up

and then we have round 7

First of all, the color is back. Acid green and white pants. The tech gear too, in place of delicate chains. The hair is slicked back, similar to the scene out of stage in r6, but it doesn't feel as tamed

and i apologize in advance for the frame i'm about to use to prove this point (only scene we see till full figure in r7) but

THE SPRAY PAINTING CAME BACK!! on the pants!! Personally I think both the red and the two stripes are Till's addition, you could argue that the blood isn't bc it's just the pants done like this but it looks handmade to me, splotchy. Very likely to be Till's hand.

So going back to my initial point: something has changed between r6 and r7. In r7, Till FIGHTS with everything he has. He doesn't let Luka speak over him, he tries his best. He falters, but he enters the stage with a spark, a determination that was notably absent in r6

I think it's significant that we get this in Mizi's pov

because Mizi RECOGNIZES Till. Not in the sense that she didn't know it was him, but in the sense that it's the Till she knew from anakt: wild, rebellious, hateful towards the system. He's raging and screaming, putting on a wild performance.

And Ivan's sacrifice is what gets him like this. It allowed him to live, of course, but if we read deeper there's also something else. In r6, it's the first time we see Ivan openly defying the segyeins. It's pretty obvious that he didn't have the love Mizi had for them and he disobeyed multiple times (running away with Till is the prime example), but he put on a façade all the time. I would say it's exactly what allows him to get away with so much: he's so well-behaved that no one suspects him. He has no leash because, in the segyeins' eyes, he never tried to escape (and he never will, bc just like Till will choose to go back to Mizi every time, Ivan will stay for Till as well).

The only times we see him rebelling is: 1) the scene on the rooftop when he was still in the slums; 2) in r6, when he defies all expectations and "cheats" so that Till wins

Ivan fell in love with Till after seeing how defiant he was. And Till regains his spark, his will to rebel, after Ivan's sacrifice, when he chooses to publicly go against the aliens for the first time since he was a child.

i've seen a lot of talk about how Ivan was Till's downfall: because Till cared much more than Ivan thought, because Luka used that moment with Ivan (and not Mizi) to bring him down. It's all true and very tragic, but I think it's really important to note something else too

Till was able to be himself again (even if just for the span of a single song) because of what Ivan did. Ivan's act of love wasn't wasted.

[crystalflygeo]

two long dragon tongues down your throat is better than one <3

So I was going to answer this like a normal ask just fangirling and screaming yes but then it kinda reminded me of this abandoned wip I had sitting in my docs and IT WAS TOO GOOD TO LET IT PASS.

So sorry this sat on my inbox so long csvajckwxbhaj I promise I am not ignoring :c <3 work is just killing me and also this got out of hand HAHA WHAT A SURPRISE

it was written before 4.2 dropped (maybe before 4.1 even I can't recall) so there are some little things here and there that are technically not canon anymore//hit

Neuvillette is absolutely fascinated.

The chief Justice of Fontaine has lived for many many years, seen, learned and experienced a lot of what the world has to offer, at least within the confines of his beloved hydro nation. Always a diligent man, carrying out his role and job at the court to perfection. Yet there was something he’d always… disregard.

Some more basic instincts pertaining to his true draconic nature.

He’d had enough in his plate as it was, practically managing the nation, keeping lady Furina both entertained and out of trouble, taking care of the Melusine, and a myriad of other duties in between. Truth be told, he was a tired old dragon not having much time or interest in the pursuit of a romantic companion.

So how did he end up here? Having a sample of the most sacred and valuable treasure of another dragon. Their mate.

Neuvillette is mesmerized at how your body reacts, jerking and trembling in unadulterated pleasure. Entranced a how your lips part with labored puffs and cute little sounds he didn’t know humans were capable of. High pitched whines, long drawn-out moans. Hypnotized by your eyes, usually so alert, so smart and playful… now glazed over, clouded with euphoria yet so raw and sincere in their emotions, begging him not to stop.  

And your scent… oh, the most decadent sinful scent he’d ever sensed. His pupils dilating and turning back to slits as his stare focused on your drooling pussy. His mouth dry, his fangs aching. He wanted to drown all of his senses in you.

Darkened fingers slide across your folds, a little colder than normal for a human which is why he’d always wore gloves, but you mewl appreciatively and gladly accept them. Clenching warm and wet around the digits.

And his breath catches.

“Hmmm… you’re doing so well, baobei.”

The Iudex’s eyes flicker momentarily at the other man, or should he say, other dragon. The former Geo Archon Morax, quite literally a mythical figure exuding an aura of power far greater than his current own. He is older, wiser, stronger, a deity once involved in the likes of the Archon war and the Cataclysm. In this little… exchange, Morax is certainly the dominant dragon, simply letting Neuvillette please you.

Morax holds you close to his chest, purring contently in a display of affection towards you and confidence towards the other male, as if he needed not to worry about another taking what is his. Neuvillette knows if he were to even remotely try something funny, he’d likely face the infamous wrath of the rock. Under normal circumstances, he’d find it a little insulting to be treated like this. If he had his full authority…

But these are far from normal circumstances.

And he’s currently rather… ah… enchanted by you.

“Curl your fingers towards you and pump slowly… she likes that.” Morax explains, voice deep and rich like syrup. His hands roam your shoulders and chest, massaging softly at your exposed skin while he plants kisses at your neck, occasionally nibbling of a few past marks from his own fangs.

Neuvillette does as said, experimentally, and is rewarded by a sultry moan and a buck of your hips towards him when you feel those fingers wiggle and rub at a spot deep inside you.

“Oh? Got it on your first try Chief Justice, why you may be a natural.” Morax chuckles.

The younger dragon appreciates the praise underneath the teasing lilt.

“Now, you may use your thumb to rub at that little pearl, it’s just begging for attention.” Your mate nuzzles against your cheek, his own thumbs rolling over your perked nipples. “Slowly, careful… she is very sensitive.” He adds with amusement.

He does so again, the pad of his cool finger brushing over your puffy little nub, the spark of pleasure is immediate and you toss your head back and squeal.

“Please please please…” You gasp out, breath shuddering, body trembling.

Tears gather at your eyes and roll down your cheeks, it’s so much it feels so good.

The younger dragon stops and blinks at you, his demeanor shifting suddenly. His hands slip over your thighs to you hips, as if trying to cradle you, hold you closer.

Morax’s eyes narrow if only a bit, curious but wary of Neuvillette’s sudden… protectiveness over you.

“You’re crying… have I hurt you? Are you ok?” He asks softly, attention solely on you.

Your heart could melt at that, who knew the ever serious and imposing Iudex could be so gentle? He truly reminds you of your mate sometimes.

You nod, catching your breath a moment. “I-I’m good. Feels good.” You mumble, cheeks heating up with the confession. Your body already lays bare and presented for him, in it’s most vulnerable. But to open up your feelings too… “People… cry when they’re happy too, you know?”

He seems to consider it for a moment, you can practically se the cogs turning in his head, it’s rather endearing, his brow twitches the same way Morax’s does when he’s pensive, perhaps it’s a dragon thing? “I have observed that before, yes, but why-”

“Emotions are powerful. When y-you feel… so much… you need a let out. Be it angry, sad, even happy… our tears leak out, like emotions overflowing.” You smile and shift a little, hiding your face towards the crook of your mate’s neck. “Weren’t you the one who said waters carry emotions?” You nuzzle there and Morax responds accordingly, his hands once again massaging and roaming your body, knowing you’re still pent up and the sudden stop was probably a little frustrating.

Golden fingers slide over your folds and sink in carefully, thumb circling your clit once more and you whimper. “That’s it, my love… I want you to feel good. We want you to enjoy, isn’t that right?”

Neuvillette straightens up a little to meet Morax’s gaze. Not challenging (not yet) but there is something.    

“Indeed.” He leans in to nuzzle at the other side of your neck, the soft skin there unmarked. Morax tenses his hold on you, a slight growl coming out from deep within his chest.

“Careful Chief Justice. Remember our agreement.”

“Of course. No kisses, no marks, no claiming. No strings attached.” His lavender eyes a dark purple now as he follows the soft slope of your jaw. “I wouldn’t dare break a contract with the deity that presides over them.” He chuckles. “I just want to test…”

Or rather taste. His draconic tongue laps up softly at your tears, his hands tease your nipples as if trying to get more reactions out of you and you whine, arching towards him as Morax’s hand keeps working at your core.

It’s so… intense. They are both so clear about their desires, slow and reverent, kind in their methods, but so assured in their dominance that they will get what they want.

And oh, to be desired by two dragons truly is something…

“Interesting…” He mumbles pulling back. “So sweet.”

Morax nips at your mating mark then and tilts your head to press your lips together, your mouth happily parts for him and you let out a muffled moan as that long split tongue slides down your throat. Your feet kick and your fingers claw at whatever is closer.

Half-lidded golden eyes stare down at you with satisfaction, blown with lust. A third finger sinking in on your sweet pussy, faster, your juices gushing obscenely around them.

That tongue teases and chokes you and more tears come out of your glazed eyes, eagerly caught by another one. Bodies pressed together, hands roaming, Morax’s tail curled around your ankle keeping you open, Neuvillette’s swaying after him with excitement, cool fingers pinching your nipples, massaging your breasts…

“Mmphff…!” You squeak, high pitched and tense as the pleasure tips you over the edge and your body locks up in a delicious powerful orgasm. You sob and whimper as they work you through it. Shuddering. You see stars. Can’t think only feel.   

Once it settles Morax pulls back and you melt against him, chest heaving, legs weak, muscles aching just a little, they continue to pamper you with affection and attention.

Your mate’s fingers retreat with an embarrassingly wet noise and much to your further mortification he brings them up to his face and that sinful slip tongue once again comes out this time to lick them clean.

Neuvillette stares transfixed.

You groan quietly, it’s obvious what he wants…

Morax on his part only lets out a short laugh, possessive instincts seemingly more at ease now. “Oh? Want to have a taste too? I can assure you will not be disappointed.”

Archons, the way those sharp eyes shift to you.

“O-okay…” Your voice is barely a whisper. “P-please be gentle though I j-just…”

Your breath catches in anticipation as Neuvillette’s hands rest on your inner thighs.

And then your dear mate pulls you back into a kiss.

[seventh-district]

Midnight Hour

With the warm haze of sleep fading from you, your brow furrows as your right hand presses lightly against his lower abdomen, your thumb sweeping up and down in a small attempt at a comforting motion. You quietly call for his attention, voice still thick with sleep.

“Star? Is everything okay?”

His typically silent breath suddenly hitches, and his head angles down to face you. Now that he’s turned toward the light, you catch the way his eyes shine, and the way the light reflects off of what you quickly realize are tear tracks, running down his cheeks.

You awake in the middle of the night to find your lover in tears.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Word Count: 3,139

Content Warnings: [crying (obviously)] [non-specific mentions of Astarion's past trauma] [this fic was written by someone who hasn't actually played the game and that might show in the details/the lack thereof]

Blinking your tired eyes open, you squint at the light of the crackling fire in front of you. Closing them again, you let out a soft sigh as you try to guess at the current time. Given that you woke on your own, you’re assuming it’s likely close to, but not quite, time for you to take over tonight’s watch shift.

Your group has fallen into a routine where you pair off into teams of two, and a different team keeps watch each night. Tonight’s turn belongs to you and Astarion, and he’s taken the first half of the shift as usual. You usually, ironically, sleep your best on the nights that he keeps watch, in spite of only getting half the amount of sleep as you do on the nights another team has the job.

You suppose you can credit the fact that, at the end of the day, Astarion is a creature of the night. Something about knowing he has the upper hand when it comes to any unwanted nighttime visitors your group may encounter is… reassuring. To you, as well as to the others in the group, loathe as some of them may be to admit it. That is, once they all felt confident in his promises to not make a surprise midnight snack of them, at least.

Tonight is a bit of an exception, though, and you’re not quite sure what woke you early this time. You typically sleep soundly until he gently coaxes you awake, nails combing through your hair, voice soft and apologetic in your ear. He’s always somewhat reluctant to wake you, but he does so nonetheless, having learned his lesson after the first time he made the executive decision to let you sleep the whole night through. His arguments of “You really looked like you could use the rest.” and “What’s one sleepless night? I can sleep when I’m dead.” didn’t hold much water in the face of the way he dragged ass through the entire next day.

In “the spirit of fairness” and “proving that he can stick to an agreement,” he never tried to take the whole shift by himself again. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with how guilty he felt when he heard the disappointment in your tone when you awoke that first morning and discovered he hadn’t stuck to the plan. Definitely.

Laying there in the quiet, you try and fail to pinpoint what feels different about tonight. You don’t hear any strange noises, nothing feels unusual, and blinking your eyes open again you raise your head a bit to look around the fire. The rest of the group are circled around the other sides of the heat source, sleeping soundly. You figure that you’re probably just getting used to this routine by now, and your body simply woke up around your usual shift change time on its own.

Still, that doesn’t explain the vague, unplaceable feeling that something is just… off.

You let out a sigh that turns into a yawn as you stretch and roll away from the fire onto your back. Letting your head roll further to the left, your eyes land on the familiar sight of your lover’s back as he sits in his usual position beside you, diligently watching your six.

He’s taken to placing his bedroll right next to yours, insisting that you lie between the fire and himself. You couldn’t really argue with his point that he can’t feel the cold anyways, so there’s no need for him to be the one next to the fire. Nor could you argue with the benefits of having him as a line of defense between you and whatever lurks beyond the reach of the firelight.

The feeling of security and protection that he provides you with is still relatively foreign to you, and a soft smile blooms on your face at the warm feeling it brings. Your smile then falls a bit as you remember the silent question you ask yourself on the regular, of whether or not you provide him with the same.

You roll the rest of the way to your left, and shuffle further toward him, closing what remains of the small gap he’d placed between the two of you. Lying halfway on your bedroll and halfway on his, you curl your body around his seated form, bringing your right arm up and gently placing a hand on the right side of his waist. He flinches slightly, and if this were earlier on in your relationship, you’d retract your hand. He’s long since informed you though that his reaction to unexpected touch is simply involuntary, and as long as it’s you, you’ve no need to pull away.

You recall the quiet, restrained desperation in his voice when he first explained it to you, all but begging you not to pull away. He can’t control the way his body reacts to touch, given that before you, he couldn’t recall the last time being touched meant anything other than pain. In spite of that though, he wants it. He wants you. That’s obvious in the way that he, without fail, immediately relaxes under your gentle touch once his mind and body process that it’s coming from you. The way he’s come to not only relax, but to lean into it. Lean into you.

You’d never push past his boundaries, never in a million years, but he’s made it quite clear after about a thousand of your quiet requests for consent at every minor touch, that he’s entirely welcoming of your non-sexual physical affections. Getting the man to verbally admit that he actually enjoys cuddling with you, without the truth being concealed beneath a heavy layer of playful banter and practiced, honeyed words didn’t come easy, but he came around to it in his own time.

So, you don’t pull back, instead following through with the motion and slowly snaking your arm around his waist. You press your front against his lower back and curl around to rest your left cheek atop his left thigh. You can’t help but notice that he doesn’t relax into you in the way he usually does, and your head turns to the right a bit, struggling to get a half-decent look at his face as you’re both turned away from the fire light.

He remains tense, still, and unresponsive to your movements, gaze seemingly locked dead ahead of him, staring out into the dark forest.

With the warm haze of sleep fading from you, your brow furrows as your right hand presses lightly against his lower abdomen, your thumb sweeping up and down in a small attempt at a comforting motion. You quietly call for his attention, voice still thick with sleep.

“Star? Is everything okay?”

His typically silent breath suddenly hitches, and his head angles down to face you. Now that he’s turned toward the light, you catch the way his eyes shine, and the way the light reflects off of what you quickly realize are tear tracks, running down his cheeks. He’s actively crying, tears dripping from his chin, and now with his head tilted down at you they take a different path, running down to converge and fall from the tip of his nose.

You nearly bolt upright in your shock, quickly unwrapping yourself from him and clambering around on all fours until you’re sat down in front of him, your hands gripping tightly to your upper thighs in worry. His wide-eyed gaze followed your every movement, and even now that you’re sat still in front of him, his eyes still dart around, frantically scanning you, for what, you don’t know.

“What- what’s going on?”

You keep your voice as quiet as you reasonably can in spite of your shock and concern, not eager to wake your companions and have everyone witness… whatever this is.

He doesn’t respond, looking just about as lost as you feel, shaking his head in silence as more tears fall. It’s one hell of a sight, and it suddenly hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

Unsure of what to do and what even caused this, you resist the urge to wrap him in a hug, not wanting to overstep in this unfamiliar territory. Instead, you glance back over your shoulder and once again see and hear nothing of note before trying another question.

“Is there a threat? Did you see something that scared you, honey?”

He takes a long moment to answer, seeming unsure, before eventually settling on another shake of his head. His lack of confidence in his answer isn’t the most reassuring thing at the moment, but given that you aren’t detecting any danger either, you decide to believe that he really didn’t see any threat. At least, not here. Not right now, in the present moment, in front of him. He seems about halfway here and halfway gone, and if your growing suspicions are correct, he’s probably been sat here lost in the dark corners of his mind for a while now, given the state he’s in.

You catch movement to Astarion’s right side and watch as Karlach raises up from her prior position sprawled out face-down on her bedroll, propping herself up with her forearms beneath her. Her expression of concern is too aware and her eyes are too awake for her to have just now woken up, and you quickly gather that she’s probably been awake and laying there long enough to have heard your questions and Astarion’s lack of any verbal response. She doesn’t say anything though, and doesn’t move, just letting the situation unfold and keeping a watchful eye on the darkness behind you.

Relaxing slightly at the knowledge that someone else is awake and helping to keep watch now, your focus shifts back to Astarion, who’s gaze has moved to his lap, tears still falling fast. It’s almost unsettling, the way he cries. There’s no sound, no movement, his breathing is hardly even affected, nothing more than the occasional shaky breath to give away any sign of struggle at all. You don’t have to guess why it’s like this, given what he’s told you about his past. You’re sadly certain that he learned to cry like this ages ago. Silent and still, sat alone in the dark so no one would notice.

You don’t want to think about the sorts of punishments he’s endured as a result of showing such pain and emotion, but your mind pulls from what experiences he’s shared and offers up a few anyways, making you begin to feel sick.

Leaning down and trying to catch his gaze, you ask another question.

“Astarion, are you with me right now?”

He blinks, more tears spill, and his lips finally part as he responds to you with a strained whisper.

“I’m trying to be…”

You smile in spite of your current emotions and the general mood of the situation, doing your best to be something positive, something gentle, something safe for him to focus on.

“There you are…”

You say it to yourself as much as to him, relieved to finally hear his voice, as laced with pain as it sounds. You hold out your hand near where his lie balled into fists in his lap, offering him contact without forcing it on him.

“I want you to keep trying, okay? Do your best to come back into the present with me. You can take my hand, if you’d like?”

He stares down at your offered hand for a long moment before shakily unballing one of his fists. He hesitates, fingers trembling, before reaching out and placing his hand in yours. His skin is even colder than usual and slightly damp to the touch, and you couldn’t be less put off, or give less of a fuck about the messy state of him right now, or ever, if you’re being honest. You just want to help him, however you can.

You curl your warm fingers around his palm, wanting to pull him into a hug so badly but restraining yourself, letting him call the shots.

“You’re okay now, Star. You’re safe right now, here with me. We’re safe.”

He’s quiet for another long moment as he shuts his eyes tight, taking in your words. His other fist unfurls, and his body trembles almost imperceptibly.

“I… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Your heart breaks.

“Honey, you have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all, I promise you.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, his voice an insistent whisper.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders drop from where they’d been tensely held up, body slumping with a silent sigh as you watch him still try to hold this wall up between the two of you. You’d made it past a number of his walls already, but this one… this one you’ve yet to be granted access behind.

“It’s okay to cry, you know?”

Another shake of his head, this time with far more force behind it, almost vehement.

“No.”

You soften your voice, insisting.

“Yes. It is. You can cry now, Astarion. No one’s gonna hurt you. No one’s gonna judge you. I swear on my life, that’s the truth.”

His breaths become more labored, uneven and shaking.

“You aren’t his anymore. The old rules don’t apply. You can let it out, now. No one, and I mean no one, is going to punish you for it.”

His eyes pinch closed and his head shakes hard side to side, like he’s fighting his own mind, and his hand opens and closes like it wants to grab onto something. He then moves, wrapping his free hand around your arm and suddenly you’re being pulled toward him, desperately, insistently.

You follow the motion as he continues to tug at you, first leaning forward and propping yourself up with your other hand on the ground as he continues to pull you closer. You quickly gather what he wants as he lets go of your hand in favor of latching onto your other arm, pulling you upward, choking back tears all the while.

You raise up on your knees and his hands move once again to hook beneath your arms as you allow yourself to be pulled up onto his lap with physical strength you keep forgetting he possesses. Hooking your legs around his waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into you. His arms wrap tightly around your waist and he buries his face into the fabric of your shirt at the collar, muffling the soft sound of his crying which has now turned to full-blown sobs.

He’s still shockingly quiet in spite of it all, and you imagine it’s a mixture of being unable to let go of what’s ingrained into him, and not wanting to alert the entire camp to his current breakdown.

Your thumbs stroke up and down in place on his back, not wanting to let go of your hold on him but still wanting to give him some sort of comforting motion to focus on. Besides, you figure petting across the entire expanse of his scarred back might do the opposite of calming him down, so you refrain and keep your arms wrapped firmly around him. Turning your head down toward his, you whisper to him in between soft kisses to his temple.

“That’s it, love. Let it out.”

“You’re safe now, Astarion, I swear.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“You have every right to cry. No one ever should’ve taken that away from you.”

He grips you even tighter as you shower him with painfully unfamiliar affection and acceptance, comfort unlike anything he’s ever felt before in his horribly long life. His forehead presses against your right shoulder as his crying slows, trying to ground himself and catch his breath. You make a point of holding him securely against you, breathing slow and deep to give him an example to follow.

You catch movement in your periphery and glance over at Karlach as she quietly sits up and makes a series of silent lip movements and hand gestures that you don’t entirely grasp. You work them out to mean that she’s gonna take over watch for the rest of the night, and you can rest with Astarion. You send her a grateful look and mouth a “thank you,” to which she waves you off with what you think you read as a silent “don’t mention it” on her lips.

After a short while spent focused on slowing down his breath and bringing him fully out of his memories and back here with you, you whisper quiet words in his ear.

“Your work is done, Astarion. You can rest now.”

You mean it in both possible interpretations of the words, and he seems to understand that, his body finally relaxing against yours for the first time tonight.

“You wanna lie down with me, love?”

He seems like he almost nods, but stops himself, whispering back in an exhausted voice, scratchy and thick from crying.

“Someone has to keep watch.”

You hesitate to inform him that Karlach has already taken over that role for tonight, sure that he’d get no sleep at all if he knew she’d witnessed this. You know you’re gonna be awake watching over him for the rest of the night anyways, so instead, you offer a compromise.

“I can hold you and keep watch at the same time, love. Just… let me sit and you can lay against me.”

He gives the suggestion a moment of thought before nodding his head, reluctantly loosening his hold on you. You maneuver the both of you carefully so as to avoid allowing his tired eyes to catch sight of your obviously awake companion sitting behind him.

It isn’t much of a task considering his eyes are halfway closed already, his only remaining focus locked on you. You settle down at the head of his bedroll, guiding him to lie down and bringing his head to rest in the center of your lap.

Your hands take turns gently combing fingers through his white curls, and you feel his tense shoulders begin to relax at the feeling. You bring a thumb down and gently stroke over the lines creasing his brow, quietly encouraging him to release the tension he likely doesn’t realize he’s holding. You watch him pull in a deep, albeit still slightly unsteady breath, and you can practically feel the relief that washes over him when he exhales.

Words aren’t necessary between the two of you at this point, not in this moment, but you offer him a few anyways, hoping they’ll resonate in his tired mind as he slips into sleep.

“You’re safe here, Star. Rest easy.”

A/N: Like I said in the CWs, I haven't played the game for myself (yet!) so I only know what I've seen in the hours of (mostly Astarion-focused) scenes I've watched on YT. As a result, this might have read a bit funny if I've gotten certain details wrong. For instance- I have no idea how resting at the camp actually goes, whether or not someone keeps watch all night, etc. Also I'm not sure if Astarion even needs to actually sleep or if he meditates/falls into a trance and just calls it sleep, but for the sake of simplicity, (and me being clueless,) when I say he falls into sleep just assume he's doing whatever he'd normally do to rest. On a different note- this little fic was inspired by a combination of two things. The lovely art and additional commentary on this post, by @velnna , and also by me listening to Midnight Hour by Sierra Eagleson on loop for like, an hour, and daydreaming up this specific scene before proceeding to write it out. It is a beautiful song that is now the title and theme-song for this fic, and I encourage you to go give it a listen if you haven't heard it already. Header Image Source: x

[airenyah]

i need to talk about this line here for a second, because it's an attack on me personally. but not the english translation of it, no, it's the og thai line that really gets to me. because he says:

มันโอเค​นะเว้ย ที่จะมีความรักอ่ะ [man - oh-keh - ná wóiie • thêe - jà - mee kwaam rák - àh] it - okay - [particle] • that - will - be in love - [particle]

he specifically uses the term มีความรัก which is more like "to be in love". which means rather than "it's okay to love", this line is more accurately translated as:

It's okay to be in love.

and as someone who really really really struggles with self-acceptance for my own romantic feelings for others, this distinction is really important to me. i can deal with loving others. i love my family. i love my best friend (you really don't go here but hiiii @magsimags i love youuuu 😘 (i know you're rolling your eyes reading this as usual)(i don't care)(i love you)). i love my other close friend. i love my summer camp gang. i love my friend that style reminds me of. i love each and every single one of the friends i've made in this fandom over the past few years (you know who you are 💖). i KNOW it's okay to love. i do it all the time. loudly. as evidenced by the fact that i just HAD to tag my best friend in this post to publically tell her i love her even though she really doesn't care about my thai blorbos, just because i really couldn't NOT tag her to tell her i love her. anyway. i can love. loving is fine.

but to be in love??? that's a whole different story. having (in my case romantic) feelings for someone feels like a heavy burden. it feels humiliating. i hate it. i don't want it. it stresses me out. and the person i have feelings for especially can't ever know about it. see, i will talk about my crushes/romantic feelings, but mostly to family and friends (the better they know the person i have feelings for, the harder it gets for me to admit to it), and even then the word "be in love" won't ever come out of my mouth in my native language. in english it's easier, but in my native language i just can't say it. it feels heavy. it makes me cringe. being in love is horrible.

so when style said "it's okay to be in love" specifically? that was a punch to my gut. because this is a truth i have not yet managed to accept for myself. and if the person i had feelings for specifically told me "it's okay to be in love" so firmly and so earnestly? yeah, i would crumble too

[totheidiot]

kira worshipper mikami has been done 17377363727 times to the point where it's overdone and so many people just ignores all other aspects of his character. but. i need to get something out. what if mikami prays to kira every day at specific times. like once during sunrise, one when the sun is directly over your head, one during sunset, and the last one in midnight. there is a very specific ritual to it and he follows it everyday, all the exact times without fail. never misses a prayer. what then.

[marigoldwriter]

WHERE ARE THE FANFICS!?!?!?!?!?!? FOR ALL THAT IS MOST SACRED, WHERE ARE THE FANFICS?!?!?!?!?!?! It could even be an alternative universe, but please make fanfics!

[varpusvaras]

Fox is dead.

He knows he is. His life hadn't been over instantly when his body had been suddenly and violently grabbed and twisted beyond what he could take. He had lied there, after, for a moment longer, knowing nothing but pain and the sinking feeling that he was dying.

He is here, now, not where his body had been left to die, but somewhere else. Somewhere he does not recognise, but knows, still, almost instinctually.

It looks like a grand hall with golden rivers and silver skies, so large that he cannot see how far the walls actually go. He tries to see, but everything is simply too far away.

There are others around him. Fox can see them and hear them moving around, walking past him, stepping around him like they don't see him but still know he is there.

Fox tries to look at some of them. He can see faces, so, so many of them, and if he focuses long enough on one of them, he can see it more clearly for a second, but no more. It is like they are far away from him as well, too far away for him to actually see them.

He watches as they go. They all follow the rivers, each a different one, disappearing somewhere alongside them after a while. Fox knows, somehow, that he is supposed to also follow one of the rivers to somewhere, wherever it may lead him to.

He hears one of them, faintly, if he listens very carefully. It's like the river wants him to follow, but cannot make him do so. Fox also wants to follow, but cannot make himself do so.

He knows the reason as well. He knows that he has done mistakes. Many of them. So, so many of them. He knows some of those mistakes have been too grave for his brothers to forgive.

Fox knows he is not welcome anymore.

The river sighs, and then flows away from him.

Fox stands there, and watches as faces he cannot see walk past him and disappear.

---

He waits.

It is the only thing he can do, after all. Wait.

It's a strange thing, waiting there. Every time he looks somewhere and watches someone, and then looks away for what feels even barely a second, there is already someone else there in their place. He needs to not forget himself, if he wants to not get lost there. He figures that out pretty quickly.

It's cold, there. The rivers look warm and the skies look clear, but Fox cannot feel them. He cannot feel anyone walking past him. They are there, just like he is, but at the same time, it is like they are existing on parallel realities, and only getting a glimpse of what is going on behind the glass that separates them.

Perhaps it's just Fox who sees them. Perhaps no one else sees him.

He tries not to think about that too much.

---

There are a lot of brothers walking around him.

Fox can see their faces clearly. They do notice him too. Many walk towards him, if they see him, and some of them speak to him, if they get close enough.

Fox wonders if they notice him because the Force recognises them as the same, or at least close enough. If the Force recognises them as kin, even when Fox has been casted aside.

His brothers want him to come with them. They can still hear the river, calling them, guiding them forward to somewhere they are meant to go. His brothers try to take his hands and take him with them. Fox had not expected that, if he is being completely honest. He would understand it, if the others were thinking that he was just any brother.

But no. Some of them do recognise him, and still reach for him, even if they are not wearing the Guard red.

"Of course you can come with", one brother in 212th gold tells him. "The Commander always spoke very fondly of you. You are our brother. Of course you can come with us."

He reaches for Fox, and he makes contact, and even when his hand is warm, Fox's legs are stuck on the ground.

The brother looks at Fox with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry", he says. "You are our brother."

"I know", Fox tells him. "I know. Can you say hi to everyone for me?"

"Of course", his brother tells him, and then follows the river away from Fox.

---

The Guards, once they figure out that Fox cannot follow them, want to stay with him.

"You are our Commander", they all tell him. "We're not going to leave you here alone!"

They stay, all of them, as long as they are able to. They hold onto him, like Fox is their anchor, the only thing keeping them from drifting away with the river.

Fox lets them stay with him, for a while, but eventually he tells all of them to go.

"Don't worry", he tells them. "Others will come along. I'll be fine. Say hello to everyone for me, alright? Go now. I'll be fine."

There is always resisting, but eventually, they do leave. They have to. The river is guiding them forward, and they have to follow it. Fox cannot hear the river, and his brothers cannot guide him themselves to it.

Fox stands there, and watches them leave.

---

Stone is the first one to arrive after Fox.

It's strange, to look at him. He looks both like the Stone Fox remembers, and like Stone Fox doesn't quite recognise, Stone who is slightly older and has a new scar across his face.

It's still Stone, though.

Stone stays with him for a long, long time.

But eventually, he leaves as well.

"I'll be fine", Fox says, for the hundreth time. "Say hi to Thorn for me."

"I will", Stone promises. "I will."

---

After Stone comes Hound. He stays for a long time as well, and promises to say hello to Thorn and Stone.

After Hound comes Bly.

Bly puts his arms around Fox and holds him.

"It's not fair", he says, again and again. "It's not fair, this isn't how any of this is supposed to go! It doesn't matter if someone has called you a Dar'vod, you are my brother! That should matter more!"

"I know", Fox says.

"Why are you so calm about this?" Bly asks him. "You are stuck here! You should be with all of us!"

"Bly, please", Fox says. "I can't. Please don't...please don't remind me too much. Please don't."

Bly goes quiet. He still holds onto Fox for a long time.

Eventually, he has to let go.

"It's okay", Fox promises him. "Say hi to Ponds for me."

---

Thire comes last.

Fox knows more time has passed now. It's strange, to look at Thire, and see his youngest brother there, but also someone who is a lot older than Fox ever got to be now.

He looks a lot like Prime before he died, Fox thinks, but doesn't say it out loud.

He also thinks it's a good thing Thire looks so much older than Fox. Fox knows he wouldn't have been able to endure his little brother dying young like Fox had.

"We have a chance", Thire tells him. "There are a lot of people standing against the Empire. Bail and Breha are with them."

Fox almost starts crying then and there. It's been- he doesn't even know how long it has been since someone has said those names to him.

"They're," Fox swallows, and tries again, "they're alright?"

"Yes", Thire says. "They are. I let them take your body, you know? You're there with them."

It's strange, to think about what happened to him after his death. Fox has been here the whole time, not there.

He guesses whatever was left of him there was what was left of him to everyone else, as well.

Fox thinks about it for a while, and then turns back to Thire.

"What else has been going on?" He asks, because he already knows that Thire is going to be staying for a while.

So Thire stays, and he tells his stories, until he has nothing else to say.

He promises, like all of Fox's brothers before him, to say hi to everyone for him. He hugs Fox for a long while, before he finally lets go.

Fox watches him leave for as long as he can.

---

The Galaxy is big, and there is always someone dying.

Fox has accepted that to be just the inevitable way of life. Everyone and everything dies eventually, even the stars. He thinks he had heard that from someone while he was still alive.

Still, some deaths are more tragic than others. Some deaths are ones that Fox thinks shouldn't have happened, not at least in the way that they did, no matter the inevitable nature of death itself.

He has seen it all pretty much, by now. Many people have been crying when walking past him, but as far as Fox has seen, they have all always dried their tears before they disappear with their rivers. He has seen anger and despair, both in a way that suits normal lives and in a way that he recognises to suit lives that are ended by the brutality of war. They all seem to always get past it, though, before they continue their journey past where he cannot see them anymore.

Fox has learned that it is normal for there to be a lot of people around him, and for them to be in distress.

But still, he knows something is wrong.

Maybe it's the way the people just seem to appear, all of a sudden, all at once, instead of coming in many rivulets. Maybe it's in the way that people are now moving. Many are still walking towards, around and past him, like they usually do, but many, too many, way too many, are running around, shouting and screaming names, searching for faces with desperation and grief written all over their own, whenever Fox gets to look at them for long enough.

It feels less like a river now, flowing towards their ends, but like a wild rapids, like rogue waves being pushed around against shores that are too small and tight for them.

Fox looks at them more closely.

He has seen it all, by now. Adults, elderly, teenagers, even children. People die at all ages all the time.

But this? There are so many of them, searching for each other. All of them are crying. He sees so many small children, healthy looking, yelling for their parents, for their siblings, friends, anyone, and just as many adults doing the same, searching for their children and parents and anyone they know, and they just keep coming.

Fox tries to look at them, tries to listen at them for long enough to figure out what is going on, but it's even more difficult now, when there are so many faces and voices around him. Something terrible, he can tell, because there seems to be no end for them, and whenever he gets to hear more than one word from any of them, they all sound the same, like they all speak the same language in the same way.

Fox doesn't understand how that can be. How can this many people die like this, all seemingly at once, in one place? He has seen war before, but even the largest massacres had been nothing like this.

He listens to them more, and there is now something familiar in the way they all talk, in a way that suddenly makes Fox go cold, like he was dying himself all over again.

He knows it. He knows the way they are all speaking, he has listened to that very same way of speech so many times.

Suddenly Fox understands everyone around him searching and screaming very well, because he is doing the same now.

Not screaming yet, but definitely searching. He tries to look at all the faces, to see if he sees them, and he prays to something, anything, everything, that he doesn't find what he is looking for.

He doesn't need to look into the faces of people around him to see them, eventually, because in the sea of faces and voices on the other side of a misty window, he sees two more than clearly.

Fox understands the grief in everyone's faces now too.

He is definitely screaming, now.

No words at first, no. Just a sound that makes its way out of him without him being able to control it at all. He sees them hear it, because they stop, and they start to look around, their eyes searching the people around them.

Fox hasn't had to breathe in a long, long time, but now he feels like he is out of air anyway. He drags his voice back in, and pushes it back in where it can be formed into words, and he screams again.

"Breha!" His voice is tearing up at its invisible seams. "Bail!"

He looks at them, and that's the moment they look at him and see him, standing there, in the same place where he has been standing his whole time there.

Fox watches as they start running as well, still looking at him, and then they are there, and Bail is just a little bit closer and throws his arms around him.

Fox stumbles, his legs ripping away from the ground. He doesn't get to wonder about it for too long, because Bail is holding him now. He is warm, just the way Fox achingly clearly remembers him to be, and then Breha is there as well, her arms going between Bail's to hold onto Fox just as tight.

They all stand there, for a moment which length Fox cannot measure, in each others arms.

Breha is the first one to speak.

"Fox", she says, in a way she always used to say his name, and Fox is barely able to keep the tears that have sprung into his eyes from falling.

Her hand reaches up and touches his jaw and then his cheek.

"Fox", Bail says then, as well, and Fox cannot hold it in anymore.

He cries.

He is pretty sure they are all crying.

There is another hand on his face, now, both of them wiping away the tears still falling down.

"Fox", Breha calls him again. "Fox, my love, our love. Look at me."

What else can Fox do, than to do as she asks of him?

It is Breha and Bail, standing there, just like he remembers them, but not quite. When Fox blinks, there are definitely grey streaks in Bail's beard and hair, and there is a long, silvery strand framing Breha's face. More lines around their eyes when Fox looks closer, ones he doesn't remember seeing there before.

It doesn't matter to him, not really. He knows them, still.

It's a strange mix of emotions he is feeling. Relief, of finally seeing them again. Happiness, brought by being held by them again.

Sorrow, for seeing them both there, emerging from the chaos of grief, knowing that they are here with him now, because they are both dead.

"Why?" He asks, because he doesn't know what else to ask. It's one word, but they understand it still.

The same grief is on their faces as well.

"The Empire", Bail starts, and pauses for a moment, like speaking pains him, "has figured out how to build weapons of mass destruction beyond anything we could've imagined. We've been fighting against them for a long time now, and...we finally got caught. Alderaan is no more."

"I don't understand", Fox says. "That doesn't make any sense."

Except it does, in a sense that it explains why there were so many of them all of a sudden, all frightened, like they hadn't had any time to prepare for their deaths. But it doesn't, because Fox cannot, will not believe that there is a weapon that can make a whole planet and everyone on it disappear.

"I know", Breha says, soothing, like she isn't the one who has just lost her own life and everything else. "It's not all lost. Our daughter, she's out there. She has the key to stopping them."

"She will do it", Bail says, and he sounds proud, so proud. "She will. We know she will."

Fox believes them when they say it.

"Of course she will", he says. "She is your daughter, after all. If she is anything like you, she can do anything."

They look at him gently, then.

"Our daughter", Breha repeats. "Our daughter. Just because you weren't there doesn't mean she is any less yours. She carries you with her as much as we did."

"She takes after you very much as well", Bail says, and there is a sparkle in his eyes again as he speaks. "Determined and strong, just like you."

Fox cries again. They don't rush him to stop, just stay there with him and hold him until everything has been spent.

"I wish I would've known her", Fox says. "I wish I would've been there."

"We wish so too", Bail says. "There wasn't a day we didn't wish that you were with us still."

"But you are now", Breha says, brushing her fingers softly over the skin under Fox's eye. "You are with us again. We have all the time now to tell you everything."

That is the moment Fox remembers that he can move again.

He has to make sure. He lifts one leg, and takes half a step back, and then makes the other leg follow.

He can move, but he still cannot hear the river.

"I would love that", he says. "But I...I don't know where to go."

"Don't worry", Bail says. He reaches for Fox's hand, and takes it into his, firmly and securely. "We know. We'll show you."

Breha laces her fingers with Fox's as well, tying herself to him like a safety line on the outside of a ship. They turn to face the golden rivers, meandering towards their ends under the silver skies, and they take Fox with them.