#oh also this was the thing i drew way too close to the edge of the page

[masschase]

#UpgradeOrDie

Once again, sorry not sorry Boss.

[allthornsnopetals]

You are a Fool E.Bridergton

Description: "I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you." Oh, how the times have changed since, Y/n last exchanged words with Eloise. Perhaps, now Eloise wished to kiss the young lady as Suitors sweep the beauty off her feet.

Warning: 18+ content

Y/n rolls her eyes at the sight of her family home, wishing to be back in Paris, sipping wine and indulging in their fruity society. But she had been summoned home after years receiving education in the city of love, and flamboyance. The season is soon to begin and she were to be wed, and soon, God help the man to court Lady Delacour, and her spicy tastes may.

She grimaced, entering the familiar abode, shouldering off her cloak, and handing it to the servant.

"Y/n, how it is good to finally see you again. I see a young Lady had blossomed, let me get a better look at you." Said Edger, Y/n's eldest brother and heir to the Delacour dynasty, his arms stretched out, waiting for them to be filled.

Y/n grinned, gliding with haste to fill her brother's arms. "It is good to finally have you home!" Another familiar voice, male, called, joining the embrace.

"Hello to you, too, Evon." She chuckles, fighting for air as another and another joins the already crowded hug.

"Hamish, you're poking me." Harwin growls, jabbing his twin brother in the rib.

Due to their fighting, the elder siblings broke a part, all but one watching with amusement. "Stop it! Or I'll knock the sense out of you both, no questions asked!" Edger scolds, pointing his finger in their faces, hunched over like he were their mother.

The boys were two years younger compared to Y/n, but they had grown into young men, taller, too. But still, they beaker, unable to control themselves, even now, seconds after she had returned home. Some things just do not change.

Y/n is the second youngest with two elder brothers and two younger ones, all without a sister for almost eleven years, until now as the season of the debutantes begins, calling for the remaining Lady to be courted. She were not the only woman, for a while, that is. Her mother had kept their family in company for most of Y/n's youth, that was until her passing: childbirth, a scary and terrifying way to die, but it took her final breaths and the opportunity for another sister.

Her passing had driven her family into the dark days, she called it. The days of morning, that drew into months and almost a year before her father had sent her away, unable to bear the face that held his late-wife. Sent away for ten years, until she were eligible for marriage. Any remaining rough edges, had been smoothed over, replaced with rounder, softer and smoother ones, instead.

She were a wild one, even before the passing of her mother. Being sent away surely did her some good, if it also didn't make her miss the french and their stunning cities. Men and women were open about their desires, and encouraged others to indulge in the simplest lust or flame, man or woman, thin or thick, white or black. France is the place of love in different fonts and shapes, Y/n took it a little too literally, with her eyes wandering over from men to women, from women to men.

White, black, she ate. Heavy or light, she ate. Men or women, she ate! French men had a talent of mouth and hands, they preferred head or a work of a gentle hand, oh and how they were talented, or obsessed with ass. The men Y/n spread her wings for, always went for head, fingers, or anal, which she finds divine. The women... Oh Y/n doesn't know where to begin, they were skilled with finding the pleasure of their sexual partner, and always aroused some unknown kink.

But now, she were home and a dinner party is to be held in her return, all close to her family is to attend, and Y/n is to get ready.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Not, too tight, is it?" Asked Daisy, your hand maiden, tightening Y/n's corset. She made a small attempt to smile.

"Is my waist, not slim enough?" She asks instead of replying to her question. Daisy simply nods, loosening the reins of the fabric.

A shaky breath of short relief slips past her lips, her eyes closing with a hand smoothing over her stomach, glad the presser had subsided. Y/n had never been one for corsets, always finding them ridiculous, like a certain someone, whom her cheeks still burn for: Eloise Bridergtion, the first person to ever reject a simple peck to the cheek.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

She grinned at the last and final memory she shared with her, so young and sure both girls and boys had cooties. Eloise allowed no one, not even her own papa to kiss her cheek or hold her hand. She was so paranoid, she wore gloves to prevent some sort of plague, she were sure it was real.

"Emerald green or sapphire blue." Daisy said, allowing Y/n to peer inside the two containers.

She wondered for some time, biting her lip as she thought. "I have jewels that would look fabulous with the blue gown," She says, gliding her fingers over the fabric. "Sapphire blue, please."

After a few moments, she was ready. Her hair flowed freely, decorated with blue flowers as a half crown. A wide diamond necklace, rounder her neck with pearl sized sapphires clipped to her ears. Daisy worked at staining her lips a shade of cherry wine before tinting her cheeks with peach blush. Lastly her slippers slipped on her feet with a dab of floral perfume on her neck, wrists and jaw.

"Your thoughts, ma'am." Said Daisy, allowing Y/n to admire her work in the vanity mirror.

"Wonderful as always. Come for me when the party begins."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Stop fiddling, you look like a fool." Violet hissed, forcing Eloise to stand up straight and still, for the most part.

"She is nervous, mama. She hasn't seen Y/n for many years, afraid she might not recognize her." Said Daphne, sipping her sparkly liquid, sure to be alcohol.

Eloise stuck her tongue out, not even trying to hide her immature behavior. "Am not. I am perfectly well, just a bit sweaty that is." She jeered, chugging a glass of liquid courage.

Of course she were nervous, jumping on the balls of her feet with anxiety. She has not seen her dear friend, Y/n for ten years, and still she wished to have allowed her to peck her cheek, goodbye. Perhaps, then she would have had a fond memory and not one filled with tears, and anger. Eloise was more than angry to see her leave, and even depressed at not snagging herself a kiss, even if it were an innocent peck on the cheek. She would have cherished it, like her books. She thought of her everyday, staring out the window, hoping to see Y/n walk to steps to her door, but that hope was just that: hope. She thought herself foolish for some time, that was until the invention to the Delacour Mansion arrived, speaking of a welcome home ball for the only daughter, Y/n Eliza Delacour.

Eloise near fainted. She were to see her friend again! To hear her voice again! To finally fill the duo to a trio, once more: her, Pen and Y/n. The golden girls back together again.

But even with such electricity, it were hard on Eloise to not pick up her skirts and run for the hills, and dunk her head in a bucket of cold ice water. For her thoughts have always been far from platonic for Lady Y/n, a girl she wished to have shared a kiss with before her departure, regretting her poorly chosen words.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

Eloise still remembered the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, as if it were yesterday, the guilt still so fresh. She was sure she had lost a friend.

"Well, she's right there. If you are so clear minded, go say hello to her." Daphne stepped aside, allowing Eloise to a route to Y/n.

"Righty then, I will." She huffed, sticking up her nose, and marching off.

Oh what the fuck! She thought gliding her way towards Y/n, dodging bodies and frantic house guests, all bubbling with the return of the sapphire of House Delacour.

As she drew closer, the more frightened Eloise became, terror eating at her. Completely ignore Hyacinth, thundering towards her with Gregory hot on her toes. It was far too late, she was already pooling forward, her arms outstretched, lips releasing a gasp.

But the impact to the hard cool floor did not come, she lay comfortably in a set of arms, holding her steadily, combing back runaway hair. "El?" Her stomach churned, the voice so familiar her stomach had a wakened.

Eloise's throat ran dry and tight, her eyes meeting the gaze of her old friend, her cheeks burning with an embarrassed grin, curving her lips. Y/n steered a sound of surprise and excitement, pulling her into her arms.

"It is you! Thank goodness! I almost didn't recognize you. I missed you and Pen. Talking about Pen, where is she?" Y/n mutters, her breath fanning Eloise's ear.

Eloise swallows hard.

I almost didn't recognize you.

Perhaps, she did fear that Y/n would be unable to identify her, thinking she had forgotten the way she looked. But that fear slowly faded as she sank into her arms, taking in her scent with a sharp breath: Oranges, lemons and pomegranates. Oh, how she missed her. She held onto for a moment longer, until the thought of Penelope whisked her mind.

Pulling a part, Eloise avoided Y/n's gaze. As if she knew something were wrong Y/n guided both her and Eloise to the library, where no one was allowed in, making sure to shut the door behind them.

"Ellie, what happened when I was away? Why is Pen not by your side?" Once the words were out, she felt a fool for asking such things.

"There was a falling out." Said Y/n, now knowing why the two peas were not together.

Eloise bit back a tear, nodding in clarification. Y/n sighed, taking her place in her arms, stroking her hair, pulling out built up tears that welled up inside her. No golden girls, after all.

She wept, holding her so tightly, it could break Y/n ribs.

"Tell me what happened." Y/n sat them both down at the cushioned love seat near the back, hidden from anyone who were to burst in.

Eloise sniffled, her hand held into hers, a smile gracing her lips. "You were always the nurse, always caring about us before yourself. Always patching us up with gentle hands and warm arms, never taking a moment peace for yourself." She laughs wetly, wiping her tears with the back of her gloved hand.

Y/n tsk's, swatting her hand from her face, wanting her not to ruin her make up, wiping her salty river away with her finger tips, their gaze finding one another. "Don't, you'll ruin your gloves." She pulls the fabric from Eloise's hands, placing them on the small coffee table, rolling her thumb over her open palm, an old habit, too good for her to ridden.

Eloise shook her head. "No, just tell me everything about Paris and your travels. I want to know. You must have had the best time." She forced a smile, squeezing Y/n's hands, wanting to change the subject.

"Only if you inform me of what happened." Her tone was cool, almost demanding, Eloise didn't recognize the woman in front of her. Couldn't decipher who she was, yes she looked the same—almost, if it weren't for the sudden bloom of her breasts—and even acted the same, with habits she still lingered with and nature she has long but permanently made one with herself. But she were all grown up now, mature and knowing, bold and daring with her tone, her chin held high, eyes leveled and commanding.

Her heart gave a giddy squeeze, if she were to stare at her any longer, Eloise would spill all her secrets. But not tonight, only for tonight she were to explain the happenings between her and Penelope.

She began with her interest in the unmasking of Lady Whistledown, from there everything progressively got worse and impossibly worse, that Y/n had rang for tea, biscuits and all sorts of sweets, sucked away from her own ball, too invested of what she were hearing. Eloise paused, gulping as if she were nervous for the following words.

"If I don't unmask this anonymous author, everyone in town would know... They'll know that I'm," She chokes, head buried in Y/n's lap, soothed by her elegant lull, her fingers combing through her hair. "Say, no more. Pen thinks it unwise to identify, Lady Whistledown. And she won't help it's sim-

"No! I know she is Lady Whistledown— I feel it in my bones and she will ruin me if everyone knew," She lashes out of her lap, tears streaming down her face. "Knew what?" Y/n coaxes her back into her, wiping her tears away, staring down at her.

Eloise sniffles, choking, blowing her nose in a handkerchief. "If everyone knew I were lesbian. Y/n it will ruin my family, greatly."

Silence followed, Y/n frozen, staring down with her eyes agape. Eloise swallowed harshly, fear running through her. Before she could say anything, Y/n was already moving, standing, and beginning to pace, warming herself near the fire.

"Times have really never changed, here?" Y/n gaped, panic rising in her like a forest fire. "Anyone identified as queer would be ruined, even their families... I should have never returned, I should have stayed in Paris, be free to be who I wished. Eloise, would Lady Whistledown, target anyone with queer traits."

"It's Lady Whistledown, what do you think?"

"Noooo, I need to pack and leave. Run back to Paris. Fake my death?" Y/n was beginning to sound crazy to Eloise.

Why is she panicking? Unless... "You're queer..." It sounded more like a question than a statement. Y/n stomps over to her hastily, cupping her hand over her lips, hovering over her, pressing her into the cushions.

"Must you speak so loudly. And if you must know, I'm bisexual. I have been aware of my fruity tastes for a long while, even far before my trip to Paris, only there did I explode myself, if you understand what I mean." She was so close, Eloise could smell her, her scent so intoxicating.

She slowly, slid her palm away, rolling her thumb over her lips, almost relishing in the feeling. "Tell no one." Her voice, smooth and oddly sweet, in her ears.

"Tell, no one got it." Eloise nods, cheeks burning a vibrant pink. "You're blushing. El, do I make you blush?" Y/n grins, leaning closer, her breath tickling her lips.

Her breathing rose, strangling Eloise, realizing if she to move, even in the slightest her lips would meet Y/n's.

Kiss me, god just kiss me. Release me of this burden.

With no answer, Y/n lent into her shoulder, snatching the exposed skin between her lips, bodies pressed together.

"Would, you rather lose an eye than kiss me." Said Y/n, her words passing through Eloise's skin.

Eloise sucked air into her lungs, tilting Y/n's chin, her eyes meeting hers. "I did not mean what I said then. I wanted you to kiss me, take me with you, be with you. Y/n I have hungered for you, for so long," She paused, gaze taking in every detail of the beauty in her view.

"I feared you'll never return, and I'll starve without you. You're my water and my meal, I'll go parch and go hungry without you. No, I'd rather not lose an eye than kiss you." Her words hung in the gap, so true, it made Y/n's heart dance.

Without another word, she dragged her chin, her lips meeting Y/n's. Eloise moaned, fire bubbling in her stomach, a whizzing boom going off in her ears. Fireworks, booming in the distance, sparks flying. She has been waiting for this, waiting for the right kiss, and this was it. In its gentleness something exciting happened, life.

She couldn't stop the smile, glad she had chosen to keep both her eyes and kiss the girl she has been starving for, for so long. "What are you smiling about?" Asked Y/n, breaking the kiss and grinning down at her.

"Nothing, truly." Eloise giggled, thumb grazing Y/n's lips. "Kiss me again." She orders, pulling Y/n back down, slamming her lips against hers.

Hers hands wander down her back, groping Y/n's ass, rewarding her a gasp, allowing a way past her lips.

Y/n straightens herself up, gasping for air, Eloise's hands gripping her hips. "Have you had sex with a woman before?" Eloise's eyes widened, her lips plump and red. "No... Not at all."

"Have you touched yourself." Y/n removed her gloves, tossing them aside, undoing her dress. "Yes, I have." She grinned, pulling her dress over her head.

"Do you wish to have sex?" She asked, stiffing a laugh at Eloise's reaction to her almost bare body.

She didn't say a word, but nodded frantically, working on her own dress, sitting up to allow Y/n to pull it off her. Once removed, their lips met again, a bit sloppily but Eloise wasn't really taking her time, to high on the moment.

Eloise desperately worked at Y/n's corset, wanting it off as Y/n took her time, knowing the thread of corset with her eyes closed. "Slow down, El. I'm going nowhere." She pants against her lips, noting her lids were already lust shot.

"Calm yourself." She tosses her corset before doing the same to Eloise's. Chest bare for only a minute, before Eloise latches her lips to her left nipple, sucking and licking with her right accompanied by her hand, kneading the flesh.

Rolling her eyes back, her head slowly fell back, moans spilling from her lips. Her hand lingered past her panties, fingers passing her folds, working at her pussy, fucking herself. Biting on her lip, she focuses on pleasing herself, rolling her hips in her own hand, mouth agape. Eloise detaches herself from her breasts, allowing her to fall back, watching her fuck herself, legs spread, gaze locked on hers.

"Come here."

She listens and crawls over to her, watching Y/n remove her digest from her cunt, wet and glossy. "Open," She orders, satisfied as Eloise takes her fingers into her mouth, moaning and sucking on them. "Drink me." She coos, pulling Eloise closer, pulling both their panties off, lining their cunts together before dragging her fingers out of her mouth.

"Grind your pretty little cunt on mine, it will make you feel good." She did not have to do much convincing, for it only took Eloise but a moment to adjust herself, starting to rock her hips.

"Like that?" She asks, moving slowly. "Just a bit to the le-"

She threw her head back, Eloise resting her head on her shoulder, moaning as she gripped her ass, speeding up her pace. Y/n held her close, rocking her hips against hers, rubbing their sex together, in a tangle of limbs. Humping harder and harder, Eloise was cutting it close to the edge but Y/n was just getting started, if the two were to both wish to orgasm tonight, it will be a long night indeed.

[tartiflvtte]

First Encounter | Homelander

hello! here's the very first one shot i've ever written for Homelander (and hopefully the first of many). This is based off the first time Homelander meets Qilin. Even though this is based off of my OC it's can also be read as Homelander x Fem Asian!Reader as no physical description occurs in this except powers/shapeshifting descriptions.

Summary: Homelander meets the path of something, or someone? That will change the course of his life. Timeline: Pre-Canon (2014) Words count: 1,1k Warnings: None!

It was a sunny day, with a few clouds in the sky, and a usual boring patrol. Fucking annoying, Homelander thought. The only thing that kept him from missing them was the cheers he was getting when he was a bit too close to regular people. Honestly, it was a bit nice, just a bit though. He was flying so fast, soaring through the city clouds, he was only checking if someone needed any help. But to be honest? He didn’t care. Nothing thrilling was happening today. Homelander debated whether he preferred patrolling or shooting the most random ad for a useless Vought product. 

Ugh, he thought, either way, that day was as basic as usual, an ad or not wouldn’t change how bored Homelander was. Not enough spectacular saves, not enough cheers, not enough praises. Can we get this over with, he thought. He wanted to get back to the Vought Tower and just have a break. Until he smelled something unusual, well, more like, unknown. It was the first time he smelled something like this. He rushed towards it, not even questioning anything.

And that was when he saw it, for the first time. The Cloud Beast, people called it. He always found the name ridiculous because he wasn’t able to visualize how massive The Beast was. It was… probably bigger than an elephant. Homelander couldn’t process the information, because The Beast saw him. It approached him, leaving a trail of clouds behind it, and made a long eye contact with Homelander. 

The Beast was impressive. It looked like a horse… Or a deer, maybe a bit of both. But with scales, oh a lot of scales, a large tail that fades with the clouds, and a mane… a mane that moved as if it had a will. Its fur was a sort of blue canary, and the scales were darker. The mane was white but with a black gradient on the end. Oh and did I mention the long almost ethereal gold mustache that Asian dragons also have? Yeah, Homelander was struggling to process what he saw.

The Beast was still staring down at Homelander, not moving. It looked almost like it was amused by the Supe. The Supe couldn't draw his eyes away, until he heard his heart beating faster, and felt some sweat on his neck and forehead. Oh dear, was he scared? The Beast felt it. Homelander was scared, so The Beast just approached him a bit closer. But it drew Homelander to the edge, and he fled as fast as he could.

Oh shit, Holy fucking fucking shit! He thought. He fled to the Seven Tower roof and stayed on for a few minutes. It felt like hours. Homelander knew that this… beast existed, but he never saw it from his own eyes. And now what? He was supposed to be the greatest American Superhero, and he fucking fled because that… thing scared him! He felt ridiculous. He ran his gloved hand into his hair, sighing. Compound V did incredible things, yes, but its range was so unpredictable. He knew that there was a person behind the Beast, the question was, did it talk? Did it even have a human form? It should have one because you can’t fucking hide a monster that big! 

But wait, was it really a monster? For Homelander, it was one for sure, but he was curious. Too curious. He quickly made his way into the Vought Tower and called for Madelyn. He stormed into The Seven’s Room and quickly took a seat, fidgeting with whatever he could find. Madelyn came a bit after, obviously in a rush. 

“I have work to do. I hope it’s important Homelander.”

He took a moment before answering.

“You wouldn’t leave your office If you knew it was not serious. I’m going to be straightforward, do you know anything about « The Cloud Beast »?” 

She froze. And Homelander saw it very clearly. He raised an eyebrow at her and waited for her to answer.

“We…” She cleared her throat. “We have barely any information on it. We just know that they call themselves «Qilin», Cloud Beast is just a name that people gave them because they’re scared each time it flies in the sky.” She paused, feeling the intense gaze of Homelander on her. 

“From what we know it’s a Supe that can shapeshift into this creature. Apparently, it’s a creature from Chinese mythology, that’s why they want to be called Qilin. Not a lot of people saw their actual human form but it seems that some sources describe them as a masked woman in a Chinese-inspired hero suit.”

The Supe clenched his fist, the more he listened, the more he was curious. He wanted to know who was behind this enormous creature. He wanted to know if it was powerful, he wanted to know everything. Homelander wasn’t the curious type, oh no, but this moment when Qilin and he were staring at each other made him feel so many different emotions.

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he felt weak, and powerless, in front of the Beast. It was the main reason why he ran away, but at the same time, he was drawn to the creature, he wanted to stay, observe it, follow its path. It was so conflicting for him, he never felt so… confused. Madelyn was still talking but he was lost in his thoughts.

He clenched his jaw, then looked back at Madelyn. His expression was unreadable and it threw Madelyn off. 

“Thank you for all of this important information.” He didn’t seem sincere, as usual, but it seemed he was thinking of doing something he shouldn’t do. He stood up pretty abruptly, which made Madelyn jump a bit. 

“Homelander, I hope you’re not thinking of doing anything irresponsible?” He snorted.

“I’m serious. We barely know anything about this woman, let the other supes and the Crime Analytics take care of this.”

He sighed as he headed towards the door. “Fine. But I’ll need reports! Every little thing, whatever saves or little apparition she makes I want to know.” His voice was firm. Madelyn didn’t feel like questioning any of his decisions when he was as stubborn as he was. So she just agreed without complaining.

He then left without saying a word, directing himself to his penthouse. He was tense, and a bit frustrated. The sun was already setting down. As he made his way inside his penthouse, he took off his gloves and let himself fall on the couch while running a hand into his blonde hair. Little did he know that this day was about to change his life. Little did he know that he would think of this first encounter every day until he would see her again. Little did he know that The Beast was so much more than just a mythical creature and that he would be the one that we call a Monster.

taglist: @sunshinetomioka

[jreads]

Unexpected Constellations (Part 15)

Rating: M (18+, Minors DNI)

Word Count: 9K

Warnings: Foul language, Fluff oh my god so much fluff can you believe it, Smut, Angst if you squint

A/N: The end. AAAAAHHHH?! I started this fic in the depths of my illness and it's been with me as I navigated my way through a horrible horrible time in my life. But good god does it hold such a special place in my heart, especially as my first piece of proper fic writing. Thank you and I love you to all the people who have joined the journey along the way and left comments and support, you guys are the best. I might go cry now, but please keep an eye out for more of my work in the future! 🩶🤍 masterlist.

“Entering the Adega system.” 

The navicomputer’s sudden robotic timbre jolted you from where you sat, straddling Din’s lap in the open cockpit. Contrary to your behaviour, he barely even flinched, licking a stripe up your neck before kissing back down and pulling the strap of your top off one shoulder. Things were not going according to plan. How fortunate.

“We should… We’re going to be… there soon… we should—oh, stars.” Your head lolled back, granting him easier access; he took it greedily. One palm had a handful of your hip, the other scaled up your back to cradle your neck.

“Need you,” he grunted into your chest. Animalistic almost.

Oh, fuck. Yes. 

You fumbled with his belt as he unhooked the button on your trousers. There was no time to undress, to do anything past the minimum. But neither of you cared much in the moment. You had come into the flight deck to ask him if he wanted caf; what the hell had happened? Not that you could find it in yourself to complain, especially as you raised your weight just a fraction so he could tug your pants down, pull your panties to the side, line himself up easier and—

Your moan was embarrassingly loud and he—ever the strategist—tried to silence it with a sloppy kiss. He bottomed out, hitting something unfathomably deep inside you.

“Quiet.” His eyes were squeezed in concentration. “We can’t wake Grogu.” 

Shit, Grogu. He was still asleep in a closed pram, but of course the cockpit door didn’t shut. You would both have to be very quiet. But as Din drove his hips upward, unable to keep still, you realised it might be more of a challenge than you had bargained for.

He drew back down before thrusting again. “I don’t think… I can’t… Din!” He slapped a hand over your mouth then, and something about it was so hot that you clenched around him, hard. It was his turn to make too much noise.

It turned into a game of reckless abandon, Din’s movements sharp, the circle of your hips deliberate, a test to see who could keep it together. And you were both losing.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. He had reprimanded you for being too loud, but he wasn’t faring much better. You were pulsing around him, eyes rolling back, and he could feel your mouth agape under his hand. You had liked it when he covered your mouth, he had felt it. He wondered if you would also like his hand around your throat, your hands tied behind your back. He wondered just how dirty you could get.

The green circle of Ossus loomed closer in his periphery, but what really mattered was the way your body jerked with each drive of his cock. The choked whines that managed to escape his muffling. Din gripped you by the waist, practically pulling you down onto him.

He had wanted you to himself—just for a little bit—before Skywalker inevitably stole you away. It wouldn’t be forever, he hoped it wouldn’t be for very long at all, but any minute spent far from your side suddenly felt unbearable. He’d stay inside you forever if it meant you never left him.

‘Learn to be selfish sometimes, Djarin. It’s the one thing you’ll never regret.’ Maybe the man had a point because holy shit this was amazing. You were amazing.

He was getting sloppy, nearing that dangerous edge that seemed to come all too quickly when he was with you. And you opened your eyes, refocusing on him, as if you could feel it too. You looked fucked out, drunk, eyes hooded and so dark he could see his own reflection in them. He hoped Luke Sykwalker was a merciful man.

You both came at the same time, and he struck deep, turning his own moan into a gasping exhale instead. You whispered a quiet ‘Oh’ beneath his palm before succumbing to the tremors of your orgasm. 

Moments passed, and when he finally uncovered your mouth, he realised that you were laughing. Breathless and giggling. 

“What just happened? I came in to ask if you wanted caf.” And then you were collapsing again into a fit.

He chuckled with you, suddenly sheepish. “Sorry.”

“No. Don’t say sorry. That was… fuck.” Another shaky giggle. Stars, it was so good to see you laugh. He brushed a stray hair back from your face, trailed a thumb over your cheekbone and your features cleared, going soft. “What is it?” you asked, as if his thoughts were written in the creases between his brows. Maybe they were.

He whispered. “Don’t leave me.”

Your eyes widened, mouth parting. “What?” Hands cupped his face. So smooth against the roughness of his stubble. “I’m not… Din, I’m not leaving.” 

He said nothing, afraid his words might betray him.

Understanding passed over your face. “You thought I wanted to go to Ossus to ask him to train me?”

He couldn’t look you in the eyes. Because yes, that’s exactly what he had thought. You lifted his chin.

“He won’t.” You said it with such surety, as if anyone wouldn’t kill to keep you close. “And even if he would…” You were shaking your head. “…I have something much more important right here.”

It was dizzying, this relief. 

“I just need some guidance… a few questions answered. That’s all.” You leaned in to kiss him, sweet and innocent and far too chaste. “I would never leave you.” 

The two of you sat there for a moment, the Razor Crest gaining steadily on the planet, his cock softening inside you. Your presence so permeating that he forgot, just for a moment, that he actually had to land the ship.

Luke was waiting for you as the Crest touched down, dressed in immaculate black, as if he was expecting you. Grass swayed in the ship’s wake, but you had little time to focus on the flora. He captivated your attention immediately; your preparation having done absolutely nothing to assuage your anxiety. In addition, the wisdom that emanated from him only served to remind you of your own training, your inferiority. But Din was just behind you, and Grogu, squealing at the sight of him, launched his small body down the ramp.

“Well, it’s very good to see you too, Grogu,” Luke addressed the child before regarding you. Grogu had already busied himself with a passing butterfly, easily distracted. He extended a hand. “I was wondering when I would get to meet you.” You were hyperaware of the clamminess of your palms when he clasped yours in his own. However, he only offered a smile. You were a bit starstruck.

“Mandalorian.” He inclined his head in greeting towards Din. Din returned the gesture. “When I saw the ship circling, I thought perhaps Grogu had reason to return. But I sense that I was wrong.”

For hours you had pondered over what to say, picked apart the small meanings of each specific word, but suddenly it seemed your entire vocabulary had emptied from your mind. You started to speak and then trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to word your reasons for coming. What if he couldn’t help? Was this stupid? Were you stupid to come here?

“It’s all right. Conversation is only a formality, really. I know why you’re here. I can feel it.” You noticed the lightsaber hilt at his side, the way it caught the light. He seemed to track your gaze. “I’m not sure if I can be of much more help, but I’ll certainly try my best.”

You hadn’t expected him to be so… kind? Willing? Maker, what a relief. “Thank you.”

But Luke only motioned to the treed hills behind him. “Walk with me.” To Din he said, “There’s a lagoon just beyond those saplings. Grogu is well acquainted with the aquatic life there. We will rejoin you soon.” There was little room left for discussion. But still, before you parted ways you cast Din a heavy look, one you could tell he returned. It said don’t worry and I love you and I’ll be back soon. You could imagine his eyes under the visor, firm and yet understanding. You loved him so much that the force of it might cleave you in half.

He angled his helmet toward where Skywalker was already walking, a way of saying get going. And so you turned, rushing to keep up with him, noting the calm posture of hands clasped behind his back. And the way the impending forest seemed to part and whisper around him.

You ambled for quite a while, in silence through the greenery. The air of the planet smelled sweet, buzzing and alive, quite like Rishi. But more powerful.

“What do you feel?” Luke’s voice broke the quiet, soothing although sudden.

“Life.”

He seemed satisfied with the vague answer. “Good. That’s the Force. It resides in all living things, and you recognize it. That’s why you connect the way you do.”

“It’s strong.”

He nodded. “Yes. Ossus has a rich history with the Jedi. The power of it resides in the very soil of the planet. That’s why I chose to stay here. To teach.”

So much power. Such potential. But pure, uncorrupted, all of it.

“Something troubles you.”

You hummed at the ground. “It’s hard to explain.”

It was silly of you to think that he might resent you, cast you out. Because he stopped you in your path, a look of real comprehension on his face. “I can imagine.” Luke gestured to the side, a pile of flat rocks arranged in a circle. “It may be easier not to talk.”

Nerves gripped at you again, sending pins and needles down your legs. “I… I’m not trained in Jedi meditation—”

He had already lowered himself and crossed his legs atop one of the makeshift seats. “That’s alright, I will guide you. Sit.”

He seemed so sure. Momentarily, you were glad for his assertiveness. Especially as you fumbled for words and picked at your fingernails, fumbled with your beskar vambraces. You followed his direction, mimicking his own body language. 

“Don’t dwell on what you were taught before. Listen to my direction and don’t try to force it… it should come naturally.” Luke’s posture was commanding, and you found your own spine straightening in self-consciousness.

He had already closed his eyes, seemingly oblivious to your inner dialogue. “Let yourself drift. Feel the nature around you. The leaves… the way they move. The animals, the insects. Don’t worry about me; I’ll find you.”

Connecting with the planet was easy enough. You had done it before on Sorgan. Though you felt you were the clunky, uncoordinated counterpart to Luke’s polished and refined technique. When you meditated with Grogu, sometimes you could see things, images, memories that belonged to him. Was Luke going to be able to see those things? You suddenly found yourself racking your brain for moments of guilt, embarrassment, things you would rather he didn’t witness—

“Focus,” he reprimanded, a hint of humor beneath his words.

You shrunk a little, mumbling a quick sorry under your breath. Okay. Whatever. You were here for guidance, and it could only be effective if he understood what he was dealing with. Who he was dealing with.

The sun was peeking through holes in the forest canopy, dappling your skin and the surrounding bamboo shoots with glowing warmth. The flowers, hidden within tall grasses, seemed to rise on tiptoes towards its light. A fat insect swooped low over their vibrant colours before shooting up, up, up. You went with it, feeling the ground fall out from beneath you. In the distance there were shimmers of light off the reflection of a calm pond. Ripples disturbed its surface, caused by a devious little green hand… a shriek of delight. Behind it, a gruff voice, shining silver, weapons laid in a pile on the ground. Love. Oh, such love. I radiated from them, so strong that it seemed to emanate from all around. So strong that it emanated from you.

You felt the moment that Luke joined you, distantly aware of his consciousness. He beckoned to you, and you turned from the scene, toward something much more serious. It was as if he opened himself to you, willing you to imitate his own action. The connection was so strong that it caused your pupils to flicker beneath closed eyelids. His life passed in flashing images.

Endless sands of the Tatooine desert, Jawa Sandcrawlers, an astromech unit, black smoke from a scorching fire. A hooded figure, the blur of hyperspace stars, a loud and affectionate Wookie, the cozy interior of a rounded ship. A beautiful woman with long brown hair. Headstrong and fearless. The Cloud City, dazzling in shades of white and gold. Memories began to overlap, and you gasped both in shock and familiarity. The Death Star, its ghostly halls, a black cape sweeping over them. The sound of heavy boots. Lightsabers, blue, green, red, yellow eyes and cracking skin. Explosions. Death and sorrow and jubilation and fear and loss and learning. Grogu. No, that couldn’t be right. An older Grogu, wrinkled and hunched over in a house of mud and sticks. A planet of brilliant white snow. War and hate and redemption and love and family. The legends, the stories you had read about on the web, they were nothing compared to this. You could feel what he felt, the complication of it all. You were barely aware of the cool slide of tears down your cheeks. Your physical body felt a whole planetary system away. Months could have passed, and you would have been none the wiser. Some time later, there was a phantom hand on your shoulder, Luke’s voice steady behind you. 

“Come back.” 

You tried, but it was impossible. Like grasping at clouds. At dispersing smoke. Who were you in comparison to this vast existence? Irrelevance. No one. Nothing. 

“Use my memories. Find yourself.”

You floated through his consciousness like a wraith, searching desperately for a sense of belonging, pulling at threads on a tapestry. There was a particularly strong one down a darkened hallway, littered with fallen droids. They were felled by lightsaber strokes, the melted metal still glowing from the heat of the blade. Shouldn’t you be afraid? 

But you weren’t, not at all. Because somehow, impossibly, you knew that at the end of this hall was home.

The door of the ship’s bridge slid open smoothly and you saw the back of Luke’s cloak, the dirty blonde of his hair. But then he stepped to the side and looked at you—really looked at you. But you weren’t there. This was his memory. 

In that moment, you understood why you were drawn to it.

Helmet held at his side, Din held Grogu, the beginnings of silvery tears lining his beautiful eyes. “It’s time to go,” he said softly, and the child’s ears drooped. “Don’t be afraid.”

You opened your eyes, lashes clotted with tears of your own.

Luke was smiling at you faintly. “Interesting… that out of all my memories you would choose that one. That should answer your question, shouldn’t it?”

“My question?” 

“You could have chosen a memory of the Empire… of the Death Star… of Palpatine… but you didn’t. You shied away from fear or anger as a tether and moved towards love.”

Huh. It had seemed such an obvious choice that you hadn’t even bothered to frame it that way. “But, I thought that attachment was forbidden for the Jedi.”

Luke looked pensive. “It’s been written that way in the texts, but I’ve been giving it much thought lately.” 

“How do you mean?”

“Well…” He clasped his hands in his lap. “I don’t think it’s so black and white. I think the volatility of attachment is what made the Jedi implement the rule and enforce it so vehemently, but that doesn’t mean it’s innately bad.” Luke seemed lost in thought for another moment. “My father… attachment to my mother is what drove him to the dark side of the Force.”

Oh. You hadn’t known that.

“…But attachment to me is what brought him back.” He lifted a pebble from the ground, spinning it. “It’s a complicated concept.” Then, he laughed lightly to himself. “I can’t train you.”

“I figured you would say that. I didn’t come to ask to be trained.”

“I know.” He nodded. “But I want you to know all the same. It’s not because of what you were taught, or how you were taught it. It’s not even really about attachment either. It’s only because, in a matter of time, I would lose you for the same reason I lost Grogu.”

To Din.

“He seems to attract force sensitives,” Luke said, a handsome smile gracing his features.

You shook your head. “No… No, he just attracts trouble.”

“I can feel how much you love them, and how much they love you. Something like that… it’s rare.” He stood, extending a hand to help you up as well. 

You took it, knees aching. How long had you been sitting there? Hours maybe? The sun was much lower.

“I understand you have a crystal in your possession.”

“Yes, I do.” You were surprised by how little it bothered you now. 

Walking with you, Luke offered: “I could help you with it, if you’d like?”

“Yes. I would like that.”

The walk back through the forest was one of renewed peace, Luke’s insights having soothed some long-jagged edge inside you. You could hear Grogu’s voice echo through the treeline as you finally approached the Crest. How you longed to go to them.

“Your apprehension has waned,” Luke noted as you climbed the ramp. 

You nodded. 

“I only told you what you already knew. What your family has already made clear.”

“It helps to hear it from someone like you.” The storage compartment opened easily, and you found the box that Din had referenced, the same old wood, the same paranormal feel. Though it wasn’t nearly as intimidating anymore. You reached in to retrieve it, standing and turning back to Luke.

“Don’t doubt yourself. Internal conflict can lead you down a darker path. No one decides who you are… only you.”

His words reminded you of similar ones heard only days before. They think they know who I am, but they won’t give me the chance to show them who I want to be. A Twi’lek surrounded by swirling fabrics.

He led you to a rounded stone hut atop a steep hill. The interior was cool, simple. He sat once more and you followed, placing the box on the soft ground beneath you. You flipped the lid.

The red of the crystal was angry, the fissured lines etched into its surface somehow impossibly deeper. It seemed so at odds with the soft green of this planet. But nestled beside it was that small piece of piping, bent in at one end from where you had clutched it. Din must have pried it from your grasp while you were unconscious.

Luke smiled at it. “Thoughtful,” he mused. “It will be useful.” Fingers fluttering through air, he lifted the crystal, turning it in the dim light of the den. “Did you know that no crystal is naturally created red?”

No, you hadn’t known that.

“In the presence of a Sith, particularly a powerful one, it becomes corrupted… it bleeds. That is why the blade becomes scarlet. Sometimes, because of the unstable nature of it, the saber will flicker, whereas those of the Jedi are often still and calm.”

“What about D— The Mandalorian’s saber?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about the creation of the darksaber. I feel that is a story better told by the Mandalorians.”

The kyber crystal came to rest back in its box, and Luke rose to retrieve a bundle from across the room. Within it were a number of strange pieces of metal, each of varying shapes and sizes. 

“Your piece will make most of the hilt, but you will need a power cell… stabilizers… an activation lever. Pick what speaks to you; I will supply the rest.”

You moved—comfortably quiet—in tandem, similar to the arts and crafts you had done with the children on Sorgan. I made you want to laugh, comparing the creation of a weapon to such innocent fun. But before long, you had a line-up of materials in front of you, springs and screws and things you couldn’t even name, spaced out and flat on the ground. In the center of it all was the crystal, glowing faintly as if in anticipation.

“When you’re ready…” Luke began, “…close your eyes and connect. You’ll feel all the components around it, the way they interact. It will feel a bit like a puzzle.” He looked wistful. “All you have to do is solve it.”

He said it as if it was easy. Maybe it was. Didn’t you want to find out? 

Your eyes fluttered shut, and the room around you faded to black.

It was similar to the dream you had had of the crystal before, a sort of limbo. Except it didn’t speak to you anymore. It beckoned as always, but seemed to heave with effort, giving the impression of being sick or injured. When you reached out to it, it sighed. 

The parts of the saber came into focus, making an odd sort of mental sense. Like trying to chart a hyperspace lane, careful of obstructions and aware of where all the stars fell. Clicks and twists. Overtop of it all, the casing of metal pipe fit into place. Like it was made for this. The surface puckered and folded, and you let it do as it pleased. The was a final pop, a miniscule hiss, and the work was done. A bead of sweat was traveling its way down your brow.

Luke was assessing you with a look of satisfaction. “Very good.” You took in your creation.

Interesting and perhaps symbolic, that a piece of your captivity would be used for this. Reclaimed. It had bent itself into creases as if it had been squeezed.

“It’s quite unique. Representative of its owner.” He cast a glance behind you.

Was it? 

“Ignite it.”

The command had you looking at Luke. The nervousness must have been evident in your eyes because he nodded once in encouragement.

You felt around for the activation lever. Felt, because your eyes had squeezed themselves closed. Each heartbeat reverberated through your bones; each breath was too loud. There was no doubt anymore, no fear, and yet a kernel of hesitation still crawled its way into your stomach.

Fuck it. You had what you wanted. This wouldn’t change anything.

The blade hummed to life.

Its searing light burned the backs of your eyelids. 

Luke was silent. 

Oh, stars.

But when you finally gathered the courage to look, what you saw stunned you to silence as well. Parted your lips and somehow forced an exhale from already empty lungs. 

It was white. Pure white, like starlight.

“How is this even possible?”

Skywalker was smiling in a way you hadn’t yet witnessed. “I’ve seen it once before. With a close friend. A great warrior, and a good person.”

Unbelievable.

You swung it experimentally, low and then high, angled perpendicular above your forehead. It was lighter than Din’s and the handling was different. It moved in smooth arcs, cutting through the resistance of air. The crystal within felt sated; it hummed in synchronicity with the blade… contented purrs. You laughed, carefree and airy.

“You’ve been given this to protect and defend. Use it wisely.” You wished there were words to convey your level of gratitude to Luke. As you extinguished the blade, all you could do was thank him and assure him that you would.

A squeak of excitement sounded from the archway behind you. Din was there, a fascinated Grogu in his arms. 

You felt like a child, running into his arms. “Did you see that?” Someone needed to clarify that you weren’t just hallucinating.

He smoothed your brow, the child clawing at the folds of your clothing. “I never doubted you, cyar’ika.”

He hadn’t, had he? Since the beginning, since bringing you aboard the ship, in matters of life or death, even since learning the truth about your past. What a magical thing it was to have someone see all of you, every dark and twisted crevice, every scar you tried so hard to hide away, and still find such beauty in it.

Luke had to clear his throat. “I won’t keep you. But I would like to thank you for gathering up the courage to come here. I know it was not an easy feat.” He surveyed Din. Despite being much shorter, Luke stood with a poise that exuded power. “I know that I’m in no position to ask you for anything, but I will ask that you take good care of them. Such power attracts attention… and danger. I hate to refer to your family as such, but in the eyes of many… they are weapons. It is imperative that they stay protected.”

“I’d sooner fall on my own blade then let anything happen to them.”

Luke’s seemed to share an unspoken thought with Din. “I know.”

Something about the way he said it was unnerving. Because you knew he meant every word.

The place Din had picked was shrouded in darkness by the time the Crest landed. Miles away from the closest tourist spot, it was secluded and quiet. Breathtakingly beautiful.

A sprawling lake sparkled with bright moonlight, stretching far into the distance, where it was lined by tall trees of the lushest green. The ship’s ramp descended just a few metres from the shoreline, soft sand and small pebbles that shifted with the light lapping of the water. Aside from the comforting noises of nature and the small ticks of the cooling Crest, all was quiet.

Grogu had drifted off hours ago and would likely sleep until morning. Din had tucked him in to the pram with gentle movements, smoothing the small bit of hair that was starting to appear on the top of his head. Such tender care. He was a good father. Though he’d likely never admit it.

“You’re staring,” he remarked as he closed the pram lid.

“Am I not allowed to?” You rose from where you leaned against the ladder, saber hilt hitting your thigh. Its weight would take some getting used to. “You get to see me all the time. I have to look at you far longer to read you beneath all the armour. It’s hardly fair.”

He motioned to the open ramp and the world that waited beyond it. “You want to even the playing field?” Din offered you his arm.

The night was clear and the air was warm, alive with a breeze that felt almost like a caress. There was no need for a fire, and so you sat on the sand, bare feet flirting with the fresh water of the lake. Din had removed his helmet, and you had helped him with the armour plates so he could lay back on the sandbank, stretching out, arms beneath his head.

“The stars look different from here,” he mused. You took in his features, bathed in cool light, and the sparkle of constellations in his eyes.

“How so?”

He dragged an arm through the sand and around your waist, pulling you down and into his side. Took your chin between his fingers and tilted it toward the sky. “Look.” 

Colours bled like a watercolour painting across the dark night, the auras of each star so bright that it reminded you fleetingly of the halo of your lightsaber blade. A rippling curtain of turquoise green floated from horizon to horizon, ghostlike in its movements.

“Woah.” You couldn’t help the breathless exclamation, the laugh, and the smile that it left behind. Never before had you seen anything like it. It was stunning. 

Naboo was everything you had hoped it would be. Otherworldly allure. A sanctuary in the midst of a dangerous galaxy. Somewhere the three of you could come to just relax for a moment. Be no one beyond yourselves. No responsibilities, no judgements.  

The wave of heartache was unavoidable. “He would have loved this.” Your father. Who talked of coming here over and over and over. An unreachable dream encased in four walls of dark durasteel. Who talked of wishes and magic and fairy tales of brave knights in impenetrable armour. He had been right about so many things. “I think he would have loved you.”

Din turned his eyes away from the sky, his shaky breath unmissable. “I wish I could have met him.” He pressed a kiss to your hair. “…thanked him for raising such a strong woman… wish I could tell him that I’ll take care of you now.”

Simple words… but a galaxy of meaning.

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmured again. 

Din kissed you, and it felt like a thousand words melded into one moment. Breaths mingled, hand wandered. There was sand in his hair, and probably in yours too. Once you broke away you said just that, brain short-circuiting.

He said it was easy enough to wash out. He wasn’t referring to the fresher.

“You’re kidding.”

“Am I?” His smiled turned to a stupid grin. “Want to go swimming?”

Drunk on him, you agreed. How would he feel in the cool stillness of the water? You wanted to find out. Stars, he was unbuttoning your shirt with talented fingers and your mind was going a pleasant sort of fuzzy. He pushed the sleeves off of your shoulders. Threw your top to the side. Unhooked your saber hilt. Dove into the soft part of your neck. 

“Not sure if your father would have approved of this,” he mumbled into your shoulder and you giggled, giggled, like a little girl. His hands were hot on your bare skin, sliding down to the waistband of your pants. You hadn’t even started on his flight suit yet.

“I do want to go swimming,” you admitted to him. “You’re distracting me.”

He continued his ministrations. “Focus then.”

Fine. His zipper slid down with little resistance. Every time you undressed him it felt so thrilling, erotic. A memory floated back, Omera’s whispered words on Sorgan, like some forbidden secret. 

‘He’s so hot.’

You had found such a sentiment silly at the time, especially in the face of such violent conflict. But even then—just a little, maybe a lot—you had agreed with her. And even more so now. He was.

Din had managed to work your trousers down just as you slid the top of his suit off. He was smiling at you, cheekily before standing, shucking the rest of it off and offering you a hand.

The water was cold. Not enough to change your mind about going in, but certainly enough to elicit a sharp squeal. Din seemed unfazed, wading a distance in before diving under the surface. 

“It’s nice,” he said upon emerging. Appalled, you could only gape at him. “Come on.” He splashed you once and you sent a loathing glare back. One which he only laughed at. “I’ll pull you in…”

“You wouldn’t dare.” You sent a flicker of Force outward, enough to make your eyes glow, just for theatrical effect.

Din smiled, wading up the shore to where you stood, dripping lake water. “I’m not scared of you.” He looked like a god.

When he lunged for you, you let him.

The water felt like sharp, cold silk. You were gasping down gulps of air to overcome the shock and he held you through it, chuckling lightly at your dramaticism. “See?” But after a few short-lived seconds of crisp panic, you began to adjust and found that—temperature aside—he was right. Though the night was dark, the moonlight only just enough to highlight the chiseled angles of Din’s face, you could feel that the water was clear. Fresh and glassy. But you weren’t letting the sudden assault go so easily. You splashed at him playfully and watched the water drip down the muscle of his jaw. The way he looked at you… it might as well have been a kiss.

It was your first time swimming, or at least fully submerged in water that wasn’t a tank. What a marvel, the way it made your body feel so light. You hadn’t even considered to be afraid of the lake, not with Din right beside you. “I’ve never done this before,” you confessed, suddenly giddy.

Din placed a hand under your back, tipping your legs up. “Watch this.” You were falling onto your back in slow motion, the water and Din’s arms supporting you to stay above the surface. As the sky became visible you realized that you were floating… like an idle ship in space. Suspended in midair, water tickling at your sides. You laughed, eyes full of multicoloured stars. Such a wonderful feeling. “They should make bacta tanks like this.”

You didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was smiling. Grinning. Again, that whispered utterance of Mando’a syllables that was becoming increasingly familiar yet still remained a mystery.

Curiosity got the best of you. Without looking him in the eyes, you dared to ask, “What does that mean?”

He didn’t hesitate. “It means beautiful… means you’re beautiful.” 

“Will you teach me?”

“Mando’a, or how to swim?”

“Both?”

“Of course.” He was supporting you lightly by the waist. “How about I teach you one right now.”

You smiled at the night sky. “Okay.”

“Close your eyes. Listen to the way the words sound.” His mouth was by your ear then, and the phrase he uttered sent goosebumps along your skin. 

“It sounds familiar.”

“That’s because I’ve said it to you once before.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means I love you. Literally, it means I will know you forever.” His fingertips tapped along the length of your spine, under the water. He was barely even touching you anymore and yet you were still afloat in serene stillness. 

You tried it out, tongue stumbling over some of the pronunciation. Despite what was probably a butchery of the sentence, Din leaned over your floating figure to press his lips to your forehead.

“I love you.” You righted yourself, moving closer to him. “I love swimming… I love the water.”

“I wanted to fuck you in that pool on Rishi,” he admitted.

Oh. Holy shit.

“I spent way too long in there thinking eventually you’d say ‘to hell with it’ and come and join me.” His hands were frictionless under the surface, sliding up your thighs. “Rishi was torture. Your fucking shirt, your hair…”

You thought back to it, the stifling weather, the meeting with Castann, the way he had fallen so sternly silent afterwards. Ah. “That’s why you were so quiet. In the cantina… you were jealous.” Your words had held a hint of humor, but when he dragged his eyes up to yours there was only dark seriousness there.

You softened. “Oh, Din.” The water rippled as he adjusted his hold on you, bringing your bodies impossibly closer.

“It wasn’t anything that you did, just…” He paused, and you brushed a wet curl back from his face. “…with him, with the Marshall, there’ve been others too… I could never touch you the way they could, I couldn’t connect with you that way. It just frustrated me.”

“That’s not true.” The sparkling glare off the lake lit up his skin, the broadness of his shoulders. “I didn’t need to touch you or kiss you to know how I felt. Maker knows I wanted to, but that wasn’t what did it. It was just you.”

“And if I couldn’t have given you anything more?” There was such vulnerability in his voice. In the question.

You cupped his face, drops of water falling from your wrists to his collarbones. “You’re enough. You’re so much more than enough.” When you kissed him, you could have sworn that a tear mixed with the lake water running down his face.

It was sweet. Sweet and soft and lazy and he smelled like the trees. You felt weightless in the water, cocooned in his arms and the warmth of his body heat. He took his time against your mouth, moving like the soft ripples of the lake before nipping lightly at your bottom lip. Hiking your legs up to wind around his hips.

It felt like fireworks every time he touched you. Like you had dared to move too close to a flame and caught alight. But you would be happy to burn like this. The water didn’t feel cold anymore.

“Can I?”

You nodded. He always asked. As if he expected the answer to suddenly change.

Din unclasped your wet undershirt with deft fingers, throwing it as far as he could onto the sandy shore. Your chest rose and fell against his own, lake water swirling in the space between.

You felt surreal under his palms. Powerful and alive and thrumming with energy. He wanted to make this good, really good. It was something he had discovered with you recently and was still learning to take advantage of. It drove him crazy to make you feel good. He had to see it, to hear your moans, to soak up your praises shamelessly. Stars, it made him hard.

And he was starting to learn what you liked. But there was such opportunity, so many doors he had yet to open. He couldn’t fucking wait. You were kissing along his jawline and he was trying to remember all the things he wanted to try but dank farrik it was difficult especially since he was kind of still staring at the way water trickled down the valley between your bare breasts.

“Stop thinking so hard,” you whispered against his neck. So you could read minds. “Just let go.” Your hands were roaming over his pecs, and he was forgetting which way was up and which way was down because the sky was reflected so perfectly in the water’s surface and all he could feel was you.

He strode up the sandbank, out of the water, the chill of the breeze making you shudder as you clung to him and lay you down on your pile of discarded clothes. Your skin was glistening and on impulse alone he licked up the center of your chest, tasting saltwater and desire. Gasping, you lifted your hips up, searching desperately for some sort of friction. Needy, always.

Din went to pull at your underwear, but the water had stuck them to you like a second skin. Usually he could take his time, but right now… 

He reached for his weapons belt, withdrawing the blade. Watched your eyes widen. Not with fear, though. Shit. He slid the edge under the fabric at your hip and sliced—hearing it come away with a clean rip. You hissed, arching needily toward the blade’s edge.

“Careful,” he chided.

Your eyes had darkened. “I trust you.” Oh, you liked it. You fucking liked it.

“Do you?” He was going to combust. Because as he pressed the flat length of the blade to your neck, you bared it to him. “You know I would never hurt you.”

“Not unless I asked you to?” The innocent tone of the question made his cock twitch. For just a moment, he was robbed of the ability to speak. “Or not unless I begged you to,” you urged him. Buffering, reloading, knife still at your neck. 

“Come on, Mando.”

Mando. You lay your hand over his own, tilting the angle of the blade until its sharpest edge rested over your skin. You were breathing heavy, but he was breathing heavier. You arched further into him, a desperate sound escaping you, and something in him snapped.

He had your hips pinned in an instant, trailing the knife over the rise and fall of your chest and down, down, down, through your breasts, past your navel and back to where your underwear sat, half torn off your body. “This what you want?” He cut the fabric around your other hip and pulled the ruined garment free. You gasped. “I was going to be gentle tonight.” Farrik, he could see the sheen of your arousal and it was making some primal part of him go a little feral. 

Your hands were wandering, grasping aimlessly at him. But a hunter’s instinct had taken over, a strange combination of a need to capture with a desire to please. He had your wrists trapped in one palm, winding the wet material of your panties around them, and tying them off before raising them up above your head. There was a rock to the side of him and he retrieved it, placing it in between your hands, over the knot of your bindings digging into the sand. It would hold if you didn’t strain too hard. He pulled back once the work was done just to look at you, completely bare before him, writhing and completely at his mercy. And stars, he was focused. So hyperaware. On the clench of your trapped fists, the peaks of your nipples, the softness of your skin, the way your scars seemed to glow in the light, the way your thighs clenched together.

“You want me to fuck you, pretty girl?” A broad palm travelled up from your waist to cup your breast. He rolled a nipple between his fingers and watched the way you panted. Would you like it if he put his mouth there?

You did like it. You liked it a lot. 

“Oh. Fuck.” Your moans were music to his ears, and he alternated sides, keen to keep them going.

“I should tie you up like a bounty…” He was blabbering, almost incoherent, drunk off the feel of you. “…let you loose in the forest and hunt you down. Would you like that?” Judging by the mess he found between your legs, he figured the answer was yes. “Lucky for you, I’m not feeling very patient.”

You choked when he slid two fingers inside of you. How fast could he make you come? He was getting awfully good at it. The movements of his hand were sharp, deliberate, the heel of his palm brushing up against your clit with each repetition. You started to tug at your makeshift binding but it held, mercifully. You were getting loud, trying to muffle the pleasured cries in the flesh of your shoulder. Oh, this was fucking addicting.

Sliding his free hand up your torso, he tested a flex of his fingers around your throat and felt you tighten around him in response. “You’re mine.” Tighter. “Only mine.” Faster. You were seconds away, bucking your hips up into his hand, chanting in agreement.

“I’m yours. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” Din slid his hands free at the last moment. “No.” It felt evil to laugh at your groan of anguish, but he couldn’t help it.

Your hands had come free, but it didn’t matter. He flipped you by your waist to lay on your stomach, arching your hips up and flattening himself over your spine. Reaching down to line himself up and pausing… just long enough for you let out another desperate whine. “Didn’t you say something about begging?”

You pushed your ass back against him and he almost lost it. Almost. But you were just as stubborn, refusing to give him the satisfaction. That wouldn’t do. “Beg me, cyare.”

You caved so easily that it broke his character, made him smile. “Please… Din please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, fuck me. Please.”

“My wife. So polite.” He pushed in, all the way, in one powerful motion, stealing the air from both of your lungs. It’s like you were made for him, greedily taking everything he was willing to give. He was punching sobs out of you with each thrust and your bound hands were grasping for purchase on the beach, handfuls of wet sand. “Never going to get enough of you.”

Din snaked both hands around your body, one up to circle around your neck and one down, past your stomach where he could feel the blunt head of him poking through, all the way to your clit. The vibrations in your throat traveled through his palm as you moaned and cried out, and each circle of his fingers had you clenching down on him, so tight that the pleasure was burning hot.

He had used to fist his own dick thinking of taking you from behind, yet his imagination had done it no justice. Every arch of your spine, every tremble, every kriffing pulse of your cunt had him reeling, desperately trying to keep a hold on the brutal pace he had set. He wanted to mold you to the shape of him, selfishly, so that you fit him—and only him—for the rest of time. Imprint his name down your spine, leave purple marks on your neck that would last for days. This sort of love was brutal, possessive, like a wild animal. Oh, he wanted you to be able to feel the ghost of him between your legs when you walked.

You met him, thrust for thrust, mumbling words between every sharp breath. “Feels… so… fucking… good…” It felt better than good. It was the most blinding sensation he had ever experienced. “So… close… don’t stop.” He could tell. From the way every muscle in you was tensing, from the way you were gripping him. And thank the stars for it because he certainly wasn’t going to last much longer. “Want you to… come inside and… watch it leak out… then… fuck it back… into me.”

Din collapsed, spilling into you with a low groan. It felt never ending, wave after wave after wave and just as he thought he was coming down, you clamped down on him like a vise, whimpering and shuddering through your own orgasm and only prolonging his own. It was all he could do to prop his weight up and keep from crushing you.

For a long moment, the only sound was lapping water and the uneven heaves of breath as you both fought to recover. He released your neck, watched your head slump forward, trailed a palm over the dips in your back. Did as you asked, leaned back and watched pearls of his own come drip into the sand. With two fingers he swiped up the excess and pushed it back into you, soaking up your weakened whimper like music.

“You okay?” Because he had been hard, unforgiving. If he had hurt you…

“Am I oka—” You huffed an exhausted laugh. Din flipped you over onto your back and drank in the disarray of your hair, the softness of your eyes, the satisfied smile. “That was… wow.” You lifted your hands to him, bashfully. “Can you untie me?”

It was his turn to laugh as he reached for the panties around your wrists, still damp and now coated with sand. You were watching him as he worked, eyes trailing from his face down his chest and stomach, lower. He stared back and you looked away sharply, as if you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Adorable.

“Don’t get shy on me.” The knot on your wrists came free.

“M’not.”

He leaned down to whisper at your ear. “Especially not after you told me to fuck my c—”

“Okay!” You slapped him playfully on the chest. He liked to tease you, if only to see you flustered and melting. Din was suddenly overcome by the urge to hold you. And in doing so, was struck dumb just by the fact that he could.

Under the stars, in the sand, between a copse of trees and the expanse of lake, you curled into each other.

“I might fall asleep,” you warned.

He traced the vertebrae of your spine with a fingertip. “I can carry you.”

“Kay.” When your lips met his shoulder, he smiled. “Do you think Grogu will want to swim? Tomorrow?”

The idea was laughable. “He’d probably much prefer to terrorize the tadpoles.”

“Poor things.”

You stayed along that lake for 5 days, adventuring and playing with the kid during the day and fucking like wild creatures at night. One evening, skin still slick with sweat from riding him for what had felt like hours, you asked what he wanted to do next. Never before had the galaxy felt so open, so full of possibility. And never before had you had someone to explore it with. A family.

“We need to visit the covert. Thank the Armourer and…” Din trailed off.

“You want to go back to Mandalore.” He had spoken of a plan to redeem himself, to rediscover the mines below his people’s home world. You refrained from recalling what the Imp had said, he did too. But the curiosity, the need to know, it was palpable. 

His fingers threaded through your hair. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

“Of course. I know it’s important to you and I want to help. In any way that I can.” 

Din struggled to ask you for help, or for favours, and that was something that only got slightly better over time. But you were by his side anyways, as he wielded the darksaber as a symbol, united long-estranged factions of Mandalorians, and eventually retook the planet.

It hadn’t been easy; in fact, it had been terrifying. Moments when you had been separated were torturous, so much more frightening because now you knew the depth of what you stood to lose. But against all odds, and yet another run-in with the Empire, you and Din and Grogu had mercifully made it out unscathed. 

Victorious and now hidden away on a small parcel of land just outside of Nevarro City, a generous gift from Greef Karga. Or rather, a piece offering after Din threatened to kill him for sending you into the jaws of your captor. He had claimed to have no knowledge of the supposed ‘buyer’ and you believed him. But Din had not been so quick to forgive.

The Clan Mudhorn cabin was a quaint place, small, but somehow the perfect size for your peculiar little family. There were frogs for Grogu to play with, and the sun rose and set every day. And thank the maker, there was finally a proper bed. Just the one, but the three of you had made it work. A hammock had been fashioned just beside the kitchen for Grogu to sleep in, though more often than not, you would wake to find him snoozing happily between you and Din. On those nights, neither of you would have the heart to move him back.

It was so easy to fall into domesticity with them; to hide away the weapons for a time and just be. But the past was not so easily forgotten. And the future was imminent.

You woke from the dream with a choking sob, hand covering your mouth on instinct to keep from waking them. But it was too late. Din brushed a lock of hair back from your face, brown eyes concerned. “I thought they were getting better.” You hadn’t found your voice just yet. “It’s okay, take deep breaths.” He breathed with you until the muscles in your body slowly started to release. “That’s it. Good girl.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Shh. Don’t apologize.” Having his arms around you was easing the lingering panic better than any medicine. “You want to talk about it? One of the usuals?”

The usuals referred to dreams of captivity, of your father’s death, of the buried traumatic memories associated with your upbringing. But this… this had been different. It came trickling back in bits and pieces.

“No, I… I saw Skywalker. But he was older, much older.” How strange. “His hair was turning grey. There was a boy, young, with raven black hair.” Din was rubbing comforting circles on your curved spine. “I don’t understand, it was all just disjointed images.” But you knew what had roused you from the dream with such urgency. 

The master needs an apprentice.

Din knew better than to discount your visons. Even so, part of you wished he would. Wished he would tell you it was just a dream and to go back to sleep.

“You’re safe. We’re here.” As if he sensed himself being referred to, Grogu’s green claws fought their way up the bedspread. “We can stay up if—”

“No, no, it’s alright. It’s probably nothing.” Din’s eyes looked sad. “Just… can you… hold me?”

“Come here.” He pulled you down and tucked your head under his chin, arms winding securely around your back. The child managed to wriggle his way under Din’s elbow, collapsing with a satisfied sight between your chests. You kissed him on the head.

An ex-Sith, a Mandalorian, and a very small, basically Jedi. The stars must have a sense of humour. But perhaps they were also merciful. You clung to that hope, almost as hard as you clung to Din, Grogu sandwiched between the two of you.

The galaxy was loud, but Nevarro was quiet. People were suffering but now, for this fleeting moment you could be ignorantly happy. 

In your secluded constellation, safe from the rest of the supernovas, you could breathe and succumb once more to a peaceful slumber. If only for just a while longer.

THE END

thank you for reading ❤️‍🩹

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I added some tags that slipped through the cracks too (totally my bad)

[friendlyneighborhoodsynthezoid]

Pirate Batch- Halloween Edition

Want to hear a story?

___

The night was dark, the sea was calm. The inky water lapped against the sides of the Havoc Marauder as below a red moon the ship drifted. The sea was silent. No land, no birds, no ships in sight. Within the belly of the pirate ship all was quiet as well. The crew adjourned to sleeping or quiet, solitary activities. Until a soft hiss broke the still air.

“Want to hear a story?”

Crosshair whispered into the quiet of the crew quarters. Omega, his target, looked up from where she was drawing on the floor.

“What sort of story?”

“Cross,” a sleepy voice interjected, “she really should be getting to bed-”

“Oh, come off it, Hunter. She can stay up a bit longer. It’s a good story.”

“Pleeeeeease Huntah?” Omega wheedled, “I promise I’ll go straight to my room when its done.”

With some more grumbling, Hunter relented. “Fine then. Make it quick, Crosshair.”

The lanky gunner looked offended. “You cannot rush good storytelling,” he admonished. He took a seat on the floor across from Omega and drew her lantern to him. Holding it up to his face, his sharp grin was ghoulishly cast in stark light and shadows. “And this calls for some very good storytelling.”

The others began to take interest in his odd display. Echo watched Crosshair with open puzzlement, for he considered himself lucky if to get any more than a sentence out of the skulking sniper. Was he about to speak for actual minutes? Tech found his curiosity piqued as well, and Wrecker was edging a little closer to the group on the floor- he seemed afraid to come to near to Crosshair.

Casting Wrecker an amused glance, Crosshair began. “This is the story of a girl who lived many hundreds of years ago. She was very sweet and kind, with golden ringlets of hair and big brown eyes-” Omega blinked hers in surprise at the familiar description.

“She was called Arla. She was a polite and kind girl, but she was also a very curious little girl. She lived with her stepmother and her old dog. Her stepmother was a strange old lady, who kept little Arla very close. She always told the girl it was to keep her safe. One day, Arla asked, ‘why mustn’t I stray beyond the courtyard? Why can’t I go to the water with my friends?’

The answer was always the same. ‘It isn’t safe by the water. There are dark things about the shore at night.’ Arla was a good child, and so she listened. But as she grew older, her curiosity grew too. What was so terrible that haunted the sea at night? Arla decided she would be bad. She decided she would go down to the shore when the moon was high and bright. After all, Arla thought, if it is bright enough to see, it couldn’t be so dangerous.

Arla had a plan. She packed up a bag with candles and rope and a sharp letter opener she took from her stepmother’s writing desk. She was all ready for any danger she could think of. But she could never have prepared for what happened next…”

Crosshair trailed off mysteriously. He let the silence remain, dramatically. Tech, who had found himself being drawn from his reading into the story, broke in and snapped, “oh come on, Cross! Get over yourself and tell the story.”

Crosshair snorted. “Fine. Heathen. If you’ll let me continue…”

“One night, under a bright red moon, Arla patted her dog goodbye and slipped out her bedroom window and tiptoed barefooted and silently out through the courtyard. When she came to the gate, she paused. Her stepmother’s warning echoed through her mind. Don’t go out. Stay away from the water. But Arla made up her mind and eased the gate open just enough to squeeze through. Under the red moonlight and distant stars, she hurried towards the shore.

She found her way to the beach. The sand was cool between her toes and the water looked like the blood of titans slowly drowning the world. Arla crept toward the sea. She wanted to know what she was missing for so long…

Trepidatiously, she touched a toe to the water. The surface rippled around her foot. But the ripples didn’t stop. They spread out and out and got bigger and bigger and Arla was so frightened she pulled her foot out of the water and hid her face behind her hands. She heard the waves crashing louder, louder.

She was scared, but she wanted to look. She peered between her fingers and saw a towering shape lurching across the water towards her. She scrambled away but it was upon her.

A great old ship. The sails were rotten and torn, the hull was in no way seaworthy. It looked like it had already seen shipwreck and yet here it was, running aground on this little strip of beach before her eyes.

it crashed to a halt, throwing up fountains of sand and seawater. Arla watched with horror as shadows began to writhe and erupt from the deck of the dead ship. The shadows congealed and became creatures. They scuttled down the sides of the ship and swarmed up the sand. Within moments, Arla was surrounded.

There was a creature in front of her. It was bigger than the others. It was not made of shadows anymore. Where it had been dark it now shone with blue iridescence. It had a face of sorts. Not human, and not like anything Arla had seen in her books. It reminded her of a painting she had once seen in Stepmother’s study. The painting had disappeared when Stepmother found her snooping about through Stepmother’s study for things to read. She had been put in her room with a few choice books. Stepmother told her not to go looking again. Arla had listened. Mostly.

The creature opened an incorporeal mouth. Its voice was not a sound so much as a feeling in her head. She heard it as if it were her own thoughts.

‘You are ours at last, child. We have need of you. Arla opened her mouth to scream or cry, or perhaps to ask ‘why,’ but her voice was stolen before she could utter a sound. The glowing creature grinned needle-sharp teeth and Arla was swept up by creatures of sea mist and shadow. For a time, she knew no more.

She woke up again in a dark room that swayed with the sea.

She found herself again staring into the there-and-yet-not eyes of the mist creature. This time, she found her voice. ‘Where am I? What are you? Where are we going?’ She was scared, but she wanted to know.

The mist creature twined tendril limbs around her arms and pulled her to her feet. ‘You are coming home with us. You will make everything well again.’ Arla did not understand, but she didn’t resist as she was swept along through cramped corridors and up a ladder to the deck of the dead ship.

She looked around. There was no land in sight, there was no wind, and the red moon painted everything in blood and darkness. She was frightened, but she was also excited to finally see what lay beyond her little world. She felt alive among the waves and the stars. But the feeling was fleeting, and she was soon consumed by worry as the mist creatures swirled around her.

The creatures all spoke in one voice as they swept about and nearly knocked her off her feet. ‘You will be one of us now… you will be the best of us… you will make the bleeding cease and stop the hurting of our homeland…’

The mist solidified into spikes, and she found herself surrounded by whirling blades of light. With a rush of air, a spear of mist shot towards her and sunk into her chest. She screamed, her voice joining the rushing wind. Another struck her in the back. A third shot into her head and her screaming stop. No sound came from her gaping mouth, but her eyes and mouth cast light out from her skull in radiant beams. Her skin began cracking and more fissures of light erupted out from her. She couldn’t see, could speak. She had the strength left for one more thought before the world dissolved into whiteness. ‘Why didn’t I listen?’

“WHAT?!” Wrecker barked. He’d been listening with horrified intensity as Crosshair told his tale. “She’s dead? Is that the end of your stupid story?”

“Stop interrupting me!” Crosshair snarled. “I’m not done yet. If you’d just let me finish…”

Arla’s body was lost, but her spirit remained. Somehow, Arla woke up again. She was in a whole new place that was as alien and mysterious to her as the red sea and the dead ship had been. The land was all reddish rock.

She felt floaty. She looked down at herself and saw only iridescent blue mist. Like the creatures that brought her here.

There was a pull in her mind. She turned her head and began to walk. Or at least to drift. As she went the reddish rock grew redder still. Streams of blood traced her path, growing wider and more numerous as she approached the source of the pull.

A great crater in the rock, the sides casting deep shadows, the whole thing glistening with dark blood. She drifted to the very edge, beside the largest of the red rivers. She knelt beside the stream and considered her own glowing hands.

‘You will make the bleeding cease…’

Arla did not want to be here. She did not want to help the mist creatures that took her here. But Arla was a good and kind child, and she was very good at helping those in need. And so, she put her hands into the blood and thought very hard.

Not about going home.

Not about how she was scared.

Only a little about how she missed her dog.

She thought about making it better.

The river began to glow around her hand. It spread quickly through the stream and into the crater and soon it was a blinding well of misty light. Before her eyes the very rocks that surrounded her lost their red color and lightened to clean grey.

And Arla found she could not move her hands.

‘you will make everything well again….’

Forever.

Arla never returned to Earth. Her stepmother never got to know what it was she had failed to protect her child from. Her dog never again licked her face and lounged with her while reading. Instead, they simply watched the white moon and knew it was Arla who kept the blood from flowing and held the mist spirits away from the shores.

Except for the couple times a year when under a red moon she returns to Earth. She comes down from the moon to find another to take her place. She searches for inquisitive souls that might stray too close to the sea when the mists and the blood are abound.

Sometimes she wanders in a shape like the one she wore in life. Sometimes she is simply the mist on the sea. Other times she appears in people heads. She slips into the minds of curious little girls and draws them to her…

And they are never seen again.”

Crosshair stifled the light, and Omega gave a little yelp as the room became lit only by the red moonlight filtering through the porthole.

“Is it true Crosshair?” Omega whispered, “is Arla really out there somewhere tonight?”

Crosshair chuckled darkly. “Oh yes. And you are certainly a perfect target.”

Wrecker gasped loudly and folded Omega into a crushing embrace, as if to stop her from dissipating into nothingness and leaving them. “No! She can’t take ‘Mega from us!”

Tech rolled his eyes and sighed, “it’s just a story Wrecker.”

“Or is it…” Crosshair whispered with a wicked grin. He got a pillow to the face, courtesy of Hunter.

“Yes, it is.” Their captain grumbled. “Now everybody shut up and go to sleep.”

“But Huntah… I’m scared…” Omega said in a very small voice.

“Fine. Omega, you can stay with me. Crosshair, we will be having WORDS about this.”

Tech and Wrecker both attempted to add their own two cents, but they were swiftly cut off but more flying pillows- Hunter tended to keep a lot of them around for just this purpose.

Eventually, sleepy silence descended. Omega cuddled close to Hunter’s chest; the others all burrowed into their respective refuges. The last sound that was heard was a muttered growl from the lump of blankets that presumably contained the ship’s captain. “Honestly, why can’t you all be more like Echo? He fell asleep ages ago.”

___

I haven't edited this or anything. But Halloween, y'know?

I haven't written pirate AU Omega's introduction yet, but here she is.

[nomoreusername]

Lily of The Valley (Part 7)

Pairing:Aris x female reader

Summary:As Aris and you sit under the stars, you remember parts of your past.

We didn't find where the tracks end, but we did find something a lot better. An actual train.

“It’s kind of weird. Seeing them again,”He said, pointing at the night sky.

“It’s also weird that we chose the roof of the train instead of being inside it.”

“We don't get to see them from inside,”He defended.

“I didn't say it was bad. It's just that it's probably not the most conventional route.”

“Well, I can't kiss you under the stars from there, can I?”

“Because that's definitely what's happening right now,”I drew out.

“It could be, if you let me?”He asked in a way where he actually sounded serious. Leaning over, he got really close. Rolling my eyes at his antics, I looked at him as he made those stupid puppy dog eyes. Pushing his face away, I sat up before carefully putting my legs over the edge. Getting beside me, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. Doing the same, I leaned against him back as he rested his head on mine.

“Hey Y/N?”

“What's up?”

“What would you do if I actually kissed you?”He almost whispered.

“Why are you asking?”

“I’m just curious.”

Staying silent, I genuinely thought about it. I took a moment and imagined what I would do if my only friend, my best friend, leaned over and pressed his lips against mine. I thought about what the way they would be slightly chapped, just like mine. Then I realized how soft they looked. How the way his gentle touch would probably mean he was just as gentle of a kisser. As if I knew all about it.

× ~ × ~ × ~ ×

“You're going to actually hurt yourself one day,”I scolded, stopping him from running before he tripped. Trying his shoes as if we weren't both teenagers, I made it a tight knot, doing bunny ears before being satisfied.

“Now the other one-”

“Isn't as tight. I already know,”I sighed, undoing his other lace before redoing it to the same way I did his other.

“I was going to do it,”He insisted as I stood up.

“Well, if you did it, it wouldn't match.”

“How’d you even know that mattered to me?”He pointed out.

“I’m your best friend. I know everything that matters to you,”I grinned.

“Really? Like what?”

“For starters, the most important thing of all, me,”I announced, putting my hands in the air and quickly spinning around. Grabbing them, he spun me once more before almost stepping on my toes. Pulling away from him, I rolled my eyes the way I usually did.

“Hey. I need to become a good dancer,”He complained.

“For what?”

“For the most important thing to me. You,”He said, wearing a cheeky grin.

“I love being right.”

“I know you do. That's why I tell you when you are,”He admitted.

“That sounds like something you would do, but you know what sounds even better?”I asked.

“What?”

“Tag!”I said quickly, sprinting off before he could catch me. After a moment of shock he chased after me. Holding in a laugh, I turned a corner to find our way to the roof. Pushing the door open, I started to open the hatch when he went in before it could shut. Touching my shoulder, he tried to leave only for me to touch his head and shout no tag backs while getting out the door. Going after me, he pulled me into him, his fingertips tickling my sides. Slapping his hands away, I kicked out of his grip before landing on the floor.

“Are you okay?”He asked quickly, kneeling beside me.

“No. I’m dying,”I groaned, lying on the ground while putting my arm in the air.

“Oh no,”He played along, forcing tears. “I shall mourn you forever.”

“As you should.”

“That's not your line.”

“Then what is it?”

“A love confession to make this scene hurt more to our imaginary audience,”He sighed, clicking his tongue as he gestured for me to do so.

“How dare I forget,”I said, clearing my throat before starting. “Aris Jones, before it's too late, before I never see the light of day, I need you to know how much you have always meant to me. So I will now. While it didn't start at the beginning, I still felt a draw to you. I felt pulled in so I let myself go to you. And it was the only good times I’ve had in my life. Was with you. Whether it was on the roof, studying in our rooms, helping you when you're too close to the edge, chasing you like our lives our nothing but each other, holding in laughs when we glance at each other during serious discussions, or when you try to dance with me, the only time life has purpose is when it has you. So that night when I broke for the first time, when I wondered if I was even good enough to be a worker, when I wondered if I was doing the right thing, I ended up at your door. Because there will never be anywhere else to go. And you let me in. You let me cry on your shoulder and promised to always be there. And you have always kept that promise. And you held me too. You promised everything would be okay. And even though I didn't have answers, I believed you. But I was too tired to go, too drained to move. So I slept next to you. And when you laid under the covers with me, still holding me and swearing to never leave me alone, I knew that the reason my heart always went to you wasn't because of how close we were. It was because I wanted us to be even closer. I wanted us as lovers.”

Opening my eyes, I saw how close he was to me. So close that our noses almost touched as his lips were almost connected to mine. Looking up at his eyes, I realized that his gaze was softer than it had ever been, almost as if he was sure the world truly was nothing but us. With him completely fixated on me, his expression could almost be described as blank. His heart though, I could hear it beating too fast. Or maybe that was mine.

And I took in all of this for only a second before he leaned in and brushed his lips against mine, his hand on my jaw as he kissed me.

I could kiss back. I mean this wasn't something I hadn't thought of. That I hadn't dreamed of only to wake up too cold with my skin yearning for him to touch me.

But I knew what this could do to us. That our friendship could fall to nothing if I let this happen.

Pushing him off, I lost all words as I stared at him. With his expression dropping in a fraction of a second, he mumbled an apology as he removed his hands from me, leaving me with that itching sensation that could only be fixed by him.

“I don't think of you that way,”I convinced both of us.

“I’m sorry. I just got kind of carried away with the speech, and it just seemed really real. I’m sorry. I didn't think before I did that,”He apologized.

“It's fine. It’s not like it meant anything. We're just friends,”I smiled, sitting up.

“Yeah, yeah. We're just friends,”He uttered, his voice quiet.

“Exactly. So come on. Let's head to bed before you injure me again,”I suggested, standing up and holding out my hand. Accepting it, he didn't let go as we walked back to our rooms, pretending that hadn't happened.

And as I shut my door, I scrubbed my skin raw in the shower to get rid of that uncomfortable feeling without him. I showered until I was sure I had erased that type of touch from him. Then I stepped out and forced it out of my head so that way when I woke up everything could stay normal. Stay the way it has to.

And the tears from my eyes were just because my ankle hurt from when I fell. Not because I kept wondering if I had screwed up by not giving in and kissing him back. Not because I was sure that I had messed up by not touching him, not holding him, not allowing us to be more.

No. I didn't even think about that as I cried myself to sleep, sobbing into my pillow as my body, mind, and heart filled with regret.

Because that would have been really, really stupid.

× ~ × ~ × ~ ×

“Probably push you away and vomit,”I shrugged.

“Oh,”He said quietly, his arm falling from around me as he placed it in his lap. Doing the same, I still kept my head on his shoulder to make sure nothing changed. And he still let me because he knew just as well as I did how important not messing up every wonderful thing that we are is. I mean what was there to even mess up with a silly question?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

All Parts

Because his question meant nothing. So I’ll just go to sleep until we wake up as the same thing we were before that moment.

Next Chapter

[copiousloverofcopia]

🎄Hey there ghesties for some late Yuletide fun here is a little something!!! 🎄

We are back again for another story featuring the adorable Sister Saccharine and her beloved Copia! A little Yuletide story for my ghestie @sistersaccharine

Thank you so much for letting me continue creating Saccharine's story with you! I hope you and everyone else enjoys!!!!

Commissions are OPEN, please see pinned post for Carrd info!

The Dysfunctional Emeritus Christmas

Sister Saccharine takes a winter stroll when her fellow Sisters of Sin invite her to her first Yule celebration with the Emeritus family since her and Copia were wed. Shenanigans ensues when the family comes together in a way only an Emeritus dysfunctional Christmas could.

Also available HERE on AO3!

Read below!

The snow was glistening over the fields that once held flowers. Icicles firmly established along the branches of all the trees. And wicked chill took hold in the wind as Sister Saccharine walked along the path sitting along the edge of the grounds. The western woods, just beyond, like bare bones in the cold. Not a leaf to speak of as she heard the crows cawing in the air and noticed the family of little ruby-eyed rabbits. Their white fur barely visible as they huddled together beneath the root of a tree.

Saccharine bent down to greet them. Lifting the smallest one up in her soft mittens. Watching them warming their little body asked the yarn like a hug. Her own breath, visible in the blistering cold as she spoke.

“Oh, my little one. This must be your first winter here…poor thing. You must be so cold.” she cooed, holding him gently in her hands. Saccharine, taking a moment to think before being struck with a brilliant idea. “Here... hopefully this will help.” she told him, placing the bunny back with its family. Now covered by her sacrificed mittens, help to insulate the heat of their bodies from the bitter cold. 

It made her smile to see them warmed by her gift. Despite the winter solstice having taken hold, Saccharine didn’t mind the cold. Managing somewhere to be warmed from within. Her heart, so full and her pink-tinted nose, kissed by winter, nestled against the fabric of her favorite coat. Saccharine contentedly took in a deep inhale. Breathing in the scent of Copia’s cologne, still lingering there from their shopping trip from the day before, as she continued her walk. 

Nothing made her happier than to think of him. Her beloved husband, for only a few short months, but already a lifetime lived between them. Her thoughts were never far from him. The dear sister, unable to control the smile that reached her lips. His voice echoing sweet nothings in the forefront of her mind. 

She had often thought of him when she was alone. Even in the times when only moments had passed since they’d been together. Today was a bit different, with her thoughts occupied by the weight of Yule this year. It was to be her first Yuletide with Copia as husband and wife. Her first time as a true part of the Emeritus family, and the thought of it filled her with so much joy—and weary. 

She wanted to make a good impression on them. Hoping to consult with Ren, Secondo’s Prime Mover, and her friend for many years. She had been a great mentor to Saccharine since she first arrived at the Abbey. Surely, she would be able to empathize with her, guide Saccharine as to how she could settle the nervousness in the pit of her stomach. She knew that her friend would have the exact right thing to say to calm her. It wasn’t too long after that Saccharine swore she heard her name being called. Stopping a moment to shake off her confusion before hearing it once again. 

“What are you doing out here in the cold, we’ve been looking all over for you?” Prime Mover Ren called over to her. Saccharine turned to see her friends approaching her in the snow. The lot of them, bundled up in their winter best and carrying cups of hot chocolate in their hands. The rich smell, catching Saccharine’s attention as they drew closer. She instantly perked up. Ren, quick to hand her the extra cup she was carrying as Nova and Knell sipped away from their own.

“I am sorry, I must have lost track of time.” she laughed nervously, taking her first sip from her cup. The taste of the warm chocolate with a hint of cinnamon, glorious on her tongue as it filled her mouth. 

“I’m honestly shocked you’re not frozen solid.” remarked Sister Knell. “You…ah…not own a pair of gloves?” she continued, noticing Saccharine’s bare cold scorched hands. 

“Oh I do…well did.” she laughed.

“Never mind that Saccharine, come to Yule tonight with us!” Nova beamed, so excited to be the one to invite her. The ghoulette’s tail, swishing happily from side to side as she awaited her answer.

“You mean the ministry gathering? Isn’t that tomorrow night?” she asked her.

“What she means…” Ren continued shaking her head, “that you and Copia need to come to Secondo and I’s suite this evening for Yule celebrations. You’re an Emeritus now. This time is just for the family. Plenty of Ministry celebrations for later.” 

“Oh well of course, I am sure Copia would be thrilled.”

“Indeed, now let's get you back inside before you become a snowman.” Ren laughed, wrapping her arm around Saccharine as the four of them walked back to the Abbey. 

Saccharine spent the rest of the day getting ready. Outfits tossed to every inch of her and Copia’s bedroom as she searched for the perfect thing to wear. Settling on an adorable black dress with matching shawl, similar to her husband’s former cassock. Sheer tights and the most adorable black boots with matching bows. The focus of her outfit, a new blue sapphire encrusted necklace. Carefully draped over her decolletage—-a gift that Copia couldn't resist giving her early. 

He watched her from the doorway. A smile, pulling at the corners of his mouth as she turned back to face him. Holding out her arms and twisting around so he would get the idea of the flow of her dress.  

“What do you think?” 

“You look incredible dolcezza. Most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” he replied, his words sending a blush of pink over Saccharine’s cheeks. He quickly took her in his arms, hugging her close before planting a small kiss on her forehead. 

“Think they’ll like it?” she asked him, the worry unable to be fully hidden within the tone of her voice. Copia tilted her chin up to face him. 

“Saccharine, they are our best friends and family…they will love you even if you wore a potato sack to dinner.” he laughed, his wife giving him a playful tap to the chest. 

“I know, I know. I just want to make a good impression; you know what I mean?”

“I know. This is perfect…you are perfect. I promise.” he assured her. Saccharine, hugging him once again. Gripping him so tight, never truly wanting to let him go. This lovable, silly man who always knew the right thing to say. 

Finally, hours later, they had made it. The two of them standing in wait before the door of Secondo and Ren’s Papal suite after ringing the bell.  “Are you ready amore?” Copia asked her, feeling her uneasily squeezing his hand.

“Ready.” she told him, taking a deep breath. Her nerves, on edge for what may come next. When the door opened, Saccharine was awestruck. The suite was lavishly decorated. All of the Yuletide trimmings on full display. Garland lining every surface, with bright warm lights that twinkled a delicate glow. Ornate holly wreaths, hung carefully on the walls and a sprig of mistletoe in every doorway. The beautiful glow of candles, serving to fill the room with a warm ambiance which complemented the scent of poinsettias, cinnamon, and pine.  

It was clear to Saccharine that Prime Mover Ren had spared no expense when it came to Yule. After all, an Emeritus celebration was always a bit of a show, but somehow, she had managed to make it still feel cozy and quaint. The warmth and inviting nature of it, reminding Saccharine of the Christmases she had back at home. A bittersweet smile sweeping across her face just as Ren spoke.

“You know the party's ALL the way inside, right?” She laughed, catching Saccharine’s attention before Copia and her finally breached the threshold of the door. “Would you both be a dear and put these candies in the stockings for the children. I have been meaning too, but I am swamped in the kitchen with dinner. Primo has taken over and has been shooing everyone but me and Knell out all afternoon." Ren told them, handing over the sack of candies to Saccharine.

“Oh…why yes of course.” Saccharine smiled. The two of them took to the mantle located in the main parlor, placing little chocolates and peppermints in each of the little ones' stockings as they carried on.

“They are so small.” Copia remarked, sending a sweet glance her way. They were, and charming just as everything else and the look on her husband’s face made Saccharine wonder if their own mantle would be home to small stockings someday. It was a small moment between them that made her heart soar as she filled the stockings. When she went to open the last of them her eyes widened in surprise. There, all curled up together and sleeping peacefully in the bottom was little Gnocchi and Rigatoni. Copia took a look for himself, placing a finger over his lips, hushing the both of them before waking the mice.

“Sweet Lucifer Secondo the sweater looks just fine, stop fussing about it already.” Ren said as she reappeared to check on them. Secondo huffed and crossed his arms as Ren went on, rolling her eyes as she tapped Copia’s shoulder. “Papa, do you think you can help us with reaching for something in the kitchen?”

“Oh course, I will be right back.” he told Saccharine as they headed into the kitchen. It made Saccharine a bit nervous to be left on her own, especially since Secondo. She never was quite sure how to approach him. It was moments like this Saccharine knew having Copia by her side always made everything seem more pleasant and comfortable. 

It was the first time she had been to any gathering as an official member of the Emeritus family. Trying her best to hide her anxiety behind a soft smile, she turned to face out into the belly of the room. Immediately taking note of Secondo sitting quietly in the middle of the sofa. The former Papa was serving as both a jungle gym and lion tamer for his many children as they chased each other around the room. 

All of them were brimming with excitement at the sight of their gifts, devastated that they would have to wait until after dinner to open them. It was then she noticed that Secondo and Ren wore matching sweaters, both black with sparkling holly wreaths and pentagrams. Saccharine immediately went to cover her mouth. Hiding her giggle at his grumpy, yet proud papa disposition. 

The two youngest of the children were playing with Nova on the floor beside the tree. The ghoulette tangled up in the tinsel like a kitten as little Lucian clapped away. Nova was always so good with the children. Her heart was so pure, one of the best friends Saccharine had ever had.

Maybe I can relax a bit after all, Saccharine thought to herself as she took a seat opposite the bunch. Secondo, sending her a knowing nod and a welcoming smile as they both watched Nova and the children play.  Suddenly from the corner of her eye, Saccharine caught sight of Sister Knell peering out from behind the door frame, leading from the kitchen. The sister’s eyes, shifting around as she snuck Nova and the children some cookies. 

It was amusing to see everyone together like this. The joy of the season, reminding Saccharine just how much she loved all her friends. When she felt she wouldn't be missed, she took her leave. Deciding to check on Copia as she politely dismissed herself. “I’m gonna go see how Copia is holding up.” she smiled as she headed to the kitchen.

Immediately as she walked inside, she saw Primo shooing Knell away from the counter. “Sorella go—go. I told you I can do it myself.” he respectfully snipped, stirring the gravy in the pot as Sister Ren began making the final touches to the pies. 

“Just trying to help out Peepaw…don’t get your panties in a bunch.” Knell winked. Saccharine smiled softly at her. Knell was quite the character and even though they had become fast friends, Saccharine was sometimes unsure of how to read her. Primo must have sensed this. He, better than anyone able to pick up on Saccharine’s mood. Caring for her, as her own father would have in his stead. 

“It’s alright piccola…you know she won’t bite. Well maybe?” Primo laughed as Knell shrugged, handing Nova another cookie, before the two of them disappeared into the dining room to help set up the table at Ren’s request.

“Agh…it's been like this all afternoon…” Ren began as she passed by Saccharine to grab the cinnamon, “...but at least Sec and her are no longer going at it.”

“We will celebrate small favors.” Primo laughed before taking a moment to pull the turkey from the oven. Filling the air with the most mouthwatering scent of thyme, rosemary, and sage.  

“I personally find it rather amusing myself—-ow!” Terzo howled, getting his hand swatted for swiping a bit of the gravy on his fingers. 

“Tieni le tue mani sporche fuori da quello stronzo, non è ancora finita.” Primo hissed, furrowing his brows and shaking his wooden spoon in his brother’s direction. 

“We are ready for the food!” Nova announced as she and Knell walked back into the room. Nova, taking Terzo’s hand to kiss the sore spot before he continued.

“Best part is the sweaters.” Terzo snickered under his breath, both him and Nova trying to contain their amusement. 

“Alright, alright that's enough…” Ren began, motioning for her and Primo to bring the rest of the food into the dinning room. “...I’m lucky I got him dressed at all this morning. I swear the man is determined to make his own Ministry little league.” she continued sending a playful wink to Saccharine. 

“Dinner children, fratello!” Primo called out as they all began making their way to the dining room. Saccharine watched as the family all filed in, each of them taking their seats. Happy faces and rumbling tummies ready for a delectable meal. As she watched them, she felt the familiar weight of arms around her waist. 

“While everything for dinner smells delicious…what I am most looking forward to is dessert.” Copia purred, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. Saccharine turned to face him, her cheeks flushed by his words. “Do you see what I see?” he asked her. His eyes, calling hers to follow as they both looked up above them in the archway to see the mistletoe hanging there.  

“Oh Copia, I love you so much.” She told him, waiting for him to make the first move. Her lips anticipating the sweet press of his against her. 

“Amore, there is no one I would rather kiss for the rest of my life than you. Sei la mia vita, mio mondo, mio tutto. ” he confessed, closing his eyes before kissing her passionately in the archway.

“Come on now you too, dinner is getting cold.” Laughed Terzo from across the room. Both Copia and Saccharine pulled apart, playfully smiling as they approached the table. Both of their hearts, pounding. Their hands still locked together as they took their seats.

The table was a sight to behold. Its length, filled with a delightful spread of savories and sweets. It was clear that Ren and Papa Primo had worked so very hard on it. Everything made their mouths water as they all began filling their plates with the bounty of food. Just as the last roll was passed and the rest of the turkey was carved, Primo began tapping at his glass of punch. Announcing a toast for the occasion. 

“May I have all your attention please.” He began, waiting for all eyes to be upon him. Even the children stopped their chatter to heed Primo’s request. Himself, more of a grandfather to them than Nihil ever could be. They loved him so very much and listened to his every word as if it were gospel. “I want to take this moment to thank our beloved Prime Mover…and Secondo, for hosting us this Yule. Such a fine spread and bountiful celebration we have here indeed.” 

“Oh It’s nothing.” Ren smiled coyly as the group all lifted their glasses of wine and punch in the air.

“I want you all to know that this year we have so much to be grateful for. Lucifer has bestowed upon us a multitude of dark blessings. It is at this time we remember that through him, we find what is truly the most important in life…and most of all this year he has blessed us with a new member to the Emeritus family—-Sister Saccharine.” Primo smiled, his eyes doing their best to conceal his tears, “We welcome you to this family with open arms and wish for you and Copia nothing but all the happiness the Morning Star can provide. Nema!”

“Nema!” Everyone cheered. Saccharine immediately felt the tears rolling down her cheeks. Copia, sending a squeeze of her hand before the two of them began staring into each other’s eyes. Saccharine, feeling so in love and loved by those around her. 

“Here, Here! Now let's eat.” Secondo called out. All of them holding their glasses out to cheers before taking a drink. Just as the swig entered his mouth, Primo immediately spit out the punch in a comical spray to his left. Nova and Terzo, erupting with laughter at the other end of the table. 

“Now that I think of it…maybe that second bottle was a bit too much.” Nova chuckled, knowing they had spiked the punch with a bit of Ghoulish rum. The whole of the room, even Primo, joined them in their amusement.

After dinner they had all gathered in the parlor. All of the children had unwrapped their presents so fast that the air filled with the sparkle of wrapping paper and ribbon. Terzo trying his best to assemble the dolls house he and Nova got little Marianna, only to have him snap the stairway while forcing the peg into the slot. 

“They don't make these things to last, you know?” he nervously laughed. 

“Well not when un pagliaccio such as yourself is in charge of building it.” Secondo barked, Terzo raising from the floor to meet his gaze. The two of them, quarreling like small children themselves while the real kids played, ignorant to their father and uncle’s antics, alongside them. 

The night had been filled with so much charm and love. Of course Nova had gotten everyone the best gifts. Something she had a talent for, even making Secondo get choked up by his pair of platinum and emerald cufflinks. Surprised that she had remembered he'd lost his old ones quite some time ago. 

After all the presents had been opened and everyone's stomachs settled, Prime Mover Ren and Sister Knell offered everyone a cup of hot chocolate. Ren, making sure she offered one to her husband, lest it find its way to his lap. Sister Saccharine had settled herself alongside Copia on the chaise. The two of them cuddled up as they listened to the crackling of the fire. The sound, just audible beyond the children's laughter.

Saccharine sighed. I don't believe I have ever had a Christmas as wonderful as this before, she thought. So excited that this would be the first of many wonderful Christmases spent at her husband's side. She sat quietly, her smile beginning to spread across her face without her realizing. 

Copia took note, watching her as she took in the scene before them. Now more than ever, feeling like a true part of the Emeritus family. With all its dysfunction and chaos, but also its love and compassion. Wondering to herself how she could have ever felt nervous before as they continued to watch the children gleefully playing with their gifts. Copia took her hand in his, inspiring her to glance up at him. Tears, filling her eyes once more as they desperately tried to balance themselves along her lashes.

“Is everything alright principessa?” he asked her. Saccharine smiled, nuzzling her face against his warm chest as they cuddled together on the sofa.

“Everything is perfect…just perfect.”

Notes:

Tieni le tue mani sporche fuori da quello stronzo, non è ancora finita.- You keep your filthy mitts out of it stronzo, it's not done yet.

Sei la mia vita, mio mondo, mio tutto.- You are my life, my world, my everything. 

un pagliaccio- clown

[muttkaa]

For prompts, could I please request some domestic MegAnna fluff? Pls & ty 🙏🏼

But of course!

------

It had been a long while since the Entity had awoken. At first it was slow, people noticing they were getting pulled into fewer and fewer trials. Then it all just...stopped. Gone. No trials. Not for a loooong time.

It was almost like a miracle.

Maybe it died. Maybe it finally choked on its own food and finally died from these repeated games. Whatever happened, they were happy and it can stay dead.

---

Deep and heavy breathing rose from a large woman in bed. Her dark brown hair messy and cowlicked from the wondrous sleep she was getting. No longer living in fear. No longer working to serve some malicious force. Her body stirred a moment, feeling fingertips dance across her scalp. Instinctively she pressed deeper into the touch, only to have a melodic giggle pull her from her sleep.

She blinked away the blur spots, letting the room came back into focus. And the first thing she was greeted with was a beautiful redhead, that only gave her a gentle smile as she continued to massage her fingers through the other's hair.

"Good morning"

Anna stared at her a moment, a delicate smile touching her lips as she closed her eyes again, melting into the other's touch.

"Good morning" she repeated. "When did you wake up?"

"Just a little bit ago. But you were so cute, I couldn't leave"

A small laugh escaped the Russian, pushing herself off the bed to sit up. The blanket slowly dropped from her body; the runner unable to not steal a glance at the tightly muscled skin below.

"What would you like to eat? I think we still have a lot of vegetables from the garden"

Anna slowly maneuvered her way to the edge of the bed, placing firm feet against the wooden for to raise into a stand. Meg followed her action, standing as well.

"Hm... Maybe some bread and jam? I can take out the dried venison too, we can experiment with it. Oh! And some green onion over it~"

The Huntress kept her eyes on her lover as she dressed herself for the day. Her mind and heart captivated day by day as she gets to spend the rest of her life with this woman. Even here, in the Entity's realm, an eternity with her little fox felt like paradise on earth.

The coarse white shirt slipped over her body, then came the worn leather belt and suspenders to keep her pants up. However, as went to go and clasp them, small dainty hands snaked their way around her waist from behind, fastening the clasp easily.

"I am always surprised by how quiet you can be" the older woman turned around, facing her smiling fox with her own charming face. A face the redhead could never resist.

Her small arms wrapped around the others waist, keeping her close as they swayed in place.

"That's why I'm the best~"

A laughed escaped the Huntress, leaning down to press a kiss to the other woman's forehead.

"Always the best."

---

"What game did you say this was again?" her brows furrowed, staring at the bit of parchment between them.

"Tic tac toe. A game from my time"

"Teec tac tooe" the woman chewed over the words in her thick accent, only illiciting a giggle that strummed her heart so wonderfully.

She watched as Meg drew four lines into the paper, and placing an 'X' in the upper right hand corner.

"Now you draw an 'O' in one of the other boxes. The first one to get three in a row wins.

"Ah, strategy game?" she loved strategy games.

"Sure~ a small one"

Brown eyes found the paper once more, her large hand taking the pencil from Meg's to draw an 'O' in the opposite corner. They sat together on the wooden table The Huntress has built in another life. Daylight pouring in from the windows as the two sipped on tea and munched on the delicacies in front of them.

It was easier to find and make food now, now that they weren't fighting for their lives. And with the Entity gone, it seemed that life also breathed into the land. The forest no longer showered in a constant downpour of rain. It saw all four seasons, awakening from a deep sleep.

Today, the sun was bright, the breeze was cool, and the two savored the jam they spent the winter making together.

After a bit of back and forth, Anna tilted her head a moment, circling another O under her other two.

"Ah nice! You won"

"I did?"

"Yes, see? Three in a row~"

Oh, she did see now. It made her smile. She liked this game. Her hands roughly drew another battlespace for them, drawing the same four lines she saw Meg do earlier as the two played again.

---

It was quiet the lazy afternoon. With such beautiful weather, there was no need for the constant hauling and cutting of wood. When the weather got like this, the couple found themselves with idle time just for them. And often times, they used it exactly the way it needed to be, after so long of pain and torment.

Meg rested her body against the larger one of her lover as the two swung delicately in a hammock between two trees. The breeze tickled her hair. She reached up, drawing invisible shapes against the Russian's chest, eyes half lidded in a content and cozy smile.

Anna slowly opened her eyes from their rest, turning her attention to the redhead. Seeing the smile made her crack one of her own.

"What?"

"You're beautiful" Meg reached her hands up, gently letting her fingertips drag against her lover's defined jawline.

Anna closed her eyes once more, leaning into the touch.

"Not as beautiful as you"

The runner only rolled her eyes, shimmying up further to nuzzle her neck into her beautiful lover, and to drink her scent.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm"

It was Anna's turn to raise her hand now. Callouses that once adorned her palm from the hardship of life slowly fading away. She cupped Meg's cheek, rubbing a scarred thumb across the soft and smooth skin.

"So beautiful."

The Huntress' gaze softened, her thumb slowly running over the other's lips, parting them slightly. She watched at her lover closed her eyes, pressing further into her.

"I love your lips. So pink" her thumb traveled across her jawline.

"I love your face, and the spots they have. Like leopard." the softened thumb slowly dragged down her neck and jugular, making Meg shiver against her.

"I love the shape of you, the way your neck connects here to your shoulder. To the collarbone, to here" she placed her large place in the center of Meg's chest plate, feeling her heart beat against the ribcage. Anna also took note of its rapid pace, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Dark eyes lowered, resting them against the face of the woman she loved so much. She was met with bright blue eyes, staring up at her fascinated, and a soft pink blush that decorated along the spotted face she loved dearly.

The blue gaze made her freeze in place. Like a deer. Not many things could captivate her, but her lover's eyes was one of them. So bright. So alluring. So memorizing. She couldn't have looked away even if her life depended on it.

Meg was the one to break the spell, shyly tucking her face against the Russian's neck. Her heart rattled in her ribcage from the sweet nothings she was given. No one had ever made her feel this special. And it was funny to think. She would have never met Anna, two people separated by 100 years, had it not been for the Entity.

Her fingers entertwined with larger ones.

"I love you too" the fox mumbled against the skin of her lover.

It made the Huntress hum in response, idle fingers playing with smaller ones.

She was interrupted when said fingers pulled away, resting on her cheek instead. Anna looked down with a lidded gaze, feeling the lips she went mad over softly place against her own. She kissed her again and again, meeting soft plush lips against her own as the sound of the forest rustled around them.

Slowly, they pulled apart, chest rising and falling as bright shivers illuminated them. It didn't matter how long they'd been together now. Anna could never get tired of the way Meg had control over her heart and body, and how easy it was to send her to the heavens with just a single kiss.

Her arms wrapped tightly around the smaller woman, keeping her close.

"Lisichka" she said absentmindedly.

"Mh?" Meg inquired, eyes still closed as she resumed drawing shapes over her lovers chest.

"Will you stay with me forever?"

A smile encroached on Meg's face.

"Forever and even after that"

The answer had the Huntress' stomach sing and flip.

"Be mine and only mine forever. Until the world collapses and the last star falls from the sky"

To be together like this is one thing. But Anna wanted more. Something she couldn't put into words. She wanted this fox by her side until the sky fell.

At first she was silent, mulling what the other was truly asking her. The soft blush on her face deepened, facing her Huntress once more.

"Anna"

"Mhm?"

"Are you asking me to marry you?"

Marry. The word made the others head tilt. She wasn't sure of this word, but if it meant that the two would be together until the end of time, then yes. She was.

"Will you?"

The color on her fox's face deepened, and she was met with a surprising, passionate kiss. Her body responding on its own, reaching up to cup her face. Her lips parted, feeling her lovers tongue brush against it, allowing herself to be consumed by her little fox.

The two broke the kiss, the need for oxygen over powering their desire. Meg rested her forehead against the Russian's, shakey breaths leaving her as her eyes became glassy with tears.

"Yes, Anna. I want to be yours and only yours forever. Please marry me."

Her delicate fingers held either side of Anna's head, and the Huntress was putty in her hands. She couldn't resist, taking her beloved in for another kiss as her heart sang the melody of her name across the Huntress' body.

---------

MMMMMMM I cannot STAND these two. They are adorable and make my heart sing. I hope you enjoyed this!! What a beautiful way to start my day, with some MegAnna ♥️♥️

[zerolostwalks]

 “your cheeks are really soft.” “stop squishing them!” for Peterpatter?

Also for @innytoes who asked for the same prompt  "for Reggie/anyone because CHEEKS."

Reggie groaned as the sounds of someone hammering echoed reverberated through the apartment walls and pounded straight into his head. Damn, whoever was doing that at this time of day. Nevermind that it was mid afternoon on a Friday. 

As far as he was aware it was a nice day out. Whoever this was should go be outside and have more consideration for those bedridden due to pain. 

“Reggie, you home?” 

Speaking of loud. 

That wasn’t fair. Reggie groaned as he rolled over adjusting his position from under his blankets. Immediately feeling guilty for the impulsive judgement. 

“Reggie, man?” Luke called out again, after Reggie didn’t answer the first time. Footsteps drew closer and Reggie curled into a tighter ball as another wave of pain hit him. He really didn’t have the energy or patience to deal with Luke’s antics today. 

The bedroom door creaked open. He’d have to try and remember to put some WD-40 on it or something.

“Reg?”

“Go away.” Reggie hoped that for once Luke would actually listen. He really didn’t want to accidentally snap at him. 

The dip in the bed behind him told him otherwise. “You need anything?”

“No.” Reggie tried to suppress his groan of pain as his lower abdomen uncomfortably throbbed. “I’m fine.”

Luke’s weight shifted on the bed, the blankets pulled back letting in some much needed refreshing cool air that felt good on Reggie’s face. The blinding light which pierced through his skull and made him wince was less nice.

“Shit.” Luke said before his silhouette disappeared, the lights dimming significantly shortly after. “Better?”

Reggie could only groan in response. His curtains were too thin to be much defense against a bright afternoon sun. Which is why he had cocooned himself in his blankets to begin with, and fully intended to do so again.

Luke’s hand stopped him. “Wait. Have you eaten today?”

Another groan from Reggie as he shook his head as far as he could without feeling nauseous, soon echoed by a disappointed groan from Luke. 

“You know your migraines only get worse if you don’t eat.”

“I know.” Reggie managed to grit out, squinting open an eye to see, only to close it against the overwhelming worry written all over Luke’s face.

“So why-?”

Reggie whined as another wave of double pain rolled over him, radiating from his head and his abdomen. “Cramps.”

“Oh…well, shit.” Luke said, as he gently pushed Reggie’s hair out of his face. “That’s gotta be some shit timing.”

Reggie huffed out a laugh, enjoying the feel of Luke’s hand against his face. Humming, when he felt a fleeting kiss to his temple. 

“I’ll go find you something to eat, and some meds. Wait here.”

Another huff of laughter escaped Reggie’s chest with that. As if he’d go anywhere right now. 

It didn’t take long for Luke to come back with some extra strength tylenol and a pack of pop tarts. Probably not the best thing to eat, though it was better than nothing even if Reggie couldn’t recall what flavor they were. Most of his focus was on trying to sit up and keep the medicine down. 

“Better?” Luke asked, a hand cupping one of Reggie’s cheeks once he’d finished eating. 

He hummed in response, leaning against the wall his bed was pressed against, closing his eyes. The medicine really hadn't kicked in yet. But the pop tarts must have helped take the edge off of everything. He always forgot just how much being hungry impacted his cramps and migraines.

Reggie cracked his eyes open again when Luke's other hand came up to cup his other cheek. Though, that wasn’t quite the right description. It was more like Luke was pressing his palms in Reggie’s face like he was trying to massage it or treat it like playdough.

“wh-re-ou-oing” Reggie asked as best as he could with Luke squishing his face the way he was.

Luke’s smile broadened as he beamed down at him. “Your cheeks are really soft.”

Soft. Soft and quickly burning up. Reggie swatted Luke’s hands away and flopped onto his side so he could try and hide his quickly developing blush. “Stop squishing them!” His whine came out as more of a growl. 

“D’aaw. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” A finger poked Reggie’s cheek.

“I said stop.”

“Ok. Ok.” Luke said but something about his tone made Reggie certain he was merely tabling the teasing for another time. “You wanna take a nap?”

“Yeah.” Reggie said, fatigue slowly creeping over him as the medicine began to work. 

“Cool. Move your butt so I’ve got space.” 

Reggie chuckled as he barely needed to shift his weight. Luke did most of the work moving him himself. Once he was satisfied, his arm lightly draped over Reggie’s middle while his warm chest pressed into Reggie’s back.

“Thanks, man.” Reggie sleepily said with a small smile. The extra warmth helped him drift off. 

“Anytime. Sleep well Reg.”

[brahkest-fr]

do you have any tips on making fandragons? yours are really good in a way i cant quite quantify

oh why thank you! I love my dumb fandergs so much kldjkldd

I'm not sure if I have tips per se, but I can explain how my thought process works when I do make fandergs so maybe that can be helpful 👀

when it comes to making them, the way I do it is first deciding what breed to make em. I consider what details I want to bring out of the fandom character so for example, I made my Johnny Bravo dragon a pearlcatcher cuz I wanted the dragon to have hair but not so much like a tundra. I also had an outfit in mind (to match Johnny's t shirt and jeans) so that ruled out ancients since you can't dress em and I didn't feel like making a skin lol.

and behold: a man™. when I drew him, I thought it'd be funny to actually match the style of the show so he's all angular and disproportionate. I only included features that I wanted from the pearlcatcher like the horn, ears, and tail and tbh he looks like a rhino lol but I decided stuff like the hair tufts on the face and limbs was too much for my taste.

same thing went for my Samurai Jack dragon. however, this guy's actual dragon sprite is a lot more complex just cuz I felt like making him fancy and giving him armor.

but when I drew him, he's just very much like Jack in the show, including the style. and I'm not saying fandergs have to match the style of whatever, I just think it's a fun nod. you can also notice here I didn't draw the smoke gene on him. that's just a personal decision I wanted to keep only on the sprite, in reference to Japanese ink paintings.

my design philosophy in general is "how would x person look like if they were a dragon." but if it's like an animal/creature fanderg (like for example my bazelgeuse derg from monster hunter) then I just kinda combine both elements together.

so for Tasha here, laced and edged look like chonky scales which for me was close enough to the egg-like scales of bazel and I got a skin for the fire theming. no clothes cuz I didn't wanna cover up the skin so sometimes I don't even dress em up if I prefer seeing their bodies.

when I drew her, you can see the combined bits of both the monster and wildclaw - bazel's wings, the chonk claws, egg scales, facial features - wc tail feathers, the multigaze, feather hair. there's a lot of "use your imagination" in my designs so like, I don't usually take things at immediate face value. so some people might see laced/edged as just flat scales or maybe even feathers but my brain went oh those are fat fuck egg bombs kjldfkldkl.

sometimes my fandergs are just inspired from colors like Baja who's a taco bell fan dragon lol. I saw this hat and was like yeah I can do something with that. another example of a derg I didn't really dress cuz I wanna see the baja blast™ capsule. Baja would prolly be one of the more thematically standard flight rising dergs of my fandom ones cuz she's just a spiral without anything fancy pancy going on like the previous ones.

and sometimes it's just fun to make things kinda funky. for my Jacket fanderg, I was like, what if the chicken mask was literally a part of him and badabing it worked out really well with scales. his other colors are like red and white cuz I wanted a sort of basic bitch rooster color scheme. most of the fandom bits come from the skin I made him so he's a bit more involved on the artsy side of things. the art of him afterwards became a literal interpretation of the sprite.

I have a lot more fandergs of course but that's more or less my thought process on designing them! I don't usually have any sort of standard for designs, it really ends up being how much I feel like putting in and how much do I directly want to interpret from a fandom source. sometimes it's very literal and other times it's like a lil nod or so. tbh, you can really make a fanderg out of anything since what you wanna see is entirely up to you. I personally think it's pretty fun to see how close I can get with just what the site has to offer.

I have two more fandergs I'm actually working on rn and am very excited to share when I get to it hohohehe

[fletchervanhall]

A Flavier Father's Day

Featuring: Xavier Mitchell & Fletcher Van Hall with Winter & Henry Mitchell, and Phoebe & Drew Van Hall Location: The Mitchell Home; San Francisco, CA Time Frame: Morning, Father's Day 2024 Notes: Plenty of feels, funnies, and whole lotta family!

FLETCHER

Fletcher had fallen asleep spooning Xavier and woke up the same way. In addition to being a very light sleeper, he was a relatively still sleeper in that he didn't toss and turn much when he slept well. But over the months, even with most of that time being Phoebe's infancy and not sleeping fully through the night, he found he slept very well when Xavier was in bed with him. For Father's Day weekend, they'd been at the Mitchell home. The night before, he and Xavier harmlessly argued over who would make breakfast in the morning. Fletcher was determined to be up before him and so far, it seemed like that had been the case. It was relatively quiet from what he could tell and since there was no sounds coming from the baby monitor to indicate Phoebe was awake yet, he'd had a triumphant feeling surge through him as he carefully lifted his arm from around Xavier and slowly rolled to the edge of the bed to get out of it. When he stood, he stretched his arms far apart and quietly yawned before padding around the foot of the bed. But as he reached the door, he felt and then sensed that he no longer was the only one awake in the room and stilled. Eyes narrowing a bit, he turned around and looked at his boyfriend. "Good morning sweetheart. And before you pick up where we left off last night...well, words-wise, I'm already up so I'm making breakfast for us. So there. Stay there and I'll be back soonish with food. And maybe a morning delight if the kids aren't already up and about too."

XAVIER

Sleeping in or sleeping for longer than four hours at a time was a foreign thing to Xavier. He didn't have a newborn that kept him up like Fletcher but he did suffer from bouts of insomnia from time to time. He had tried different alternatives to try to get him to sleep from anxiety meds to melatonin to cherry juice to warm drinks at night to CBD oil but nothing seemed to do the trick. His mind was always awake and while he was still young and actively working on new projects, it suited him well but in the back of his mind he knew that sleep was important and he didn't want to spend his later years burnt out. After meeting his boyfriend, he'd often joke that Fletcher would wear him out and while some of that was true, it was more than just the intimacy getting him to sleep peacefully, it was their closeness. The nights they spent together were the best ones and Xavier would always find himself missing Fletcher's presence and his warmth. With his boyfriend's arm draped around him, he'd favor holding the older man's hand until they both drifted and Xavier was starting to realize why sleep was so damn important. Xavier wasn't one to let go of anything and in the back of his head, before falling asleep the night prior, he reminded himself he'd have to beat Fletcher to the clock to make breakfast for Father's Day. It was an important day for obvious reasons but it was also their first Father's Day together and separately. There was something very special about that. When he felt Fletcher moving beside him, he kept his eyes closed to give off the illusion that he was still asleep. Xavier tucked his lips in as soon as he felt Fletcher roll off the best, trying his best not to snicker and with his boyfriend's back turned to him, he quickly and very quietly climbed out of bed, slowly creeping up behind him. And that's when he was caught. "Oh hiii, baby." He grinned widely. "look, I love it when you're so demanding but I fear that I will be winning this round." Xavier leaned and tip-toed to kiss Fletcher on the lips. "Morning delight included. I already have a menu in my head." He tapped his temple and smirked.

FLETCHER

Fletcher laughed, "It’s cute you think you're gonna win." He dipped his head to meet Xavier's lips and then smiled as he listened to Xavier. "Good. In that case," and he bent his knees, wrapped his arms around Xavier's thighs and lifted him off the ground, walking back to the bed where he deposited him. He climbed onto his boyfriend and pinned Xavier's hands over his head, looking down at the man with a smile. "Now stay here, sugar," Fletcher insisted, his voice low and demanding. He lowered his face enough to kiss Xavier's full lips, thoroughly and deeply and hadn't parted until they needed air. He brushed his nose across Xavier's as he sweetly murmured, "Let me make you breakfast, X."

XAVIER

"It is really cute, right?" Xavier replied with a mischievous grin before kissing his Fletcher. The night before had been amazing as always and he wouldn't mind a repeat as everyone slept as long as Xavier could make everyone breakfast and spoil the shit out of Fletcher. When they broke their kiss and Fletcher bent his knees, Xavier watched with a puzzled expression. "What are you--oh my God. How're you so insanely strong?!" He laughed when he fell back onto the bed, an amused smile spreading against his lips. "You're man-handling me." His smile only widened when Fletcher pinned his hands. "Not fair..." Before he could say anything else, Xavier was kissing his boyfriend, already giving up on this battle. When they broke their kiss, he chased another quick one and grinned at his boyfriend's antics. "I hate you." He stole one more kiss. "No, no kidding. I love you. Okay, you can make breakfast. I'll clean the dishes." Xavier looked up at Fletcher. "Happy Father's Day, baby."

FLETCHER

Fletcher chuckled, "I mean I know I'm not built like The Rock but you make it sound like you weigh a metric ton or something." He smiled and gazed down at Xavier as he climbed on him. "Mmhm, sure am," he confirmed of man-handling his boyfriend. "Completely fair," he casually argued, an impish smirk appearing on his face before he'd started kissing Xavier. He gladly accepted the stolen kiss and grinned back. "If this is your brand of hating me, I could live with it." He kissed him back again and then kissed his nose and forehead. "Happy Father's Day, sweetheart." And as he sat up, releasing Xavier's hands to tug his ribbed tank off and toss aside, he asked, "We might've worked up our appetites a little last night but how about a little sampling of what's to come later?" He reached to trace a thumb along his lips and then glided his fingers down Xavier's chest. While slowly scooting down Xavier's legs, Fletcher leaned forward and stamped kisses across his chest, giving plenty of attention to each pec. His fingers roamed to the elastic waistband of his boyfriend's pajama pants, all the while keep his eyes locked on the man before him. Just as he was about to climb off of Xavier and rid him of his pants at the same time, he heard eager knocking on the front door. Completely caught off guard, Fletcher jolted, lost his balance and fell backwards off the bed with a solid thud, accompanied with a loud, "Shit!" from him.

XAVIER

“Still pretty strong.” He grinned, looking up at his boyfriend, completely amused and turned on at the same time. Breakfast did sound nice and he was plenty hungry but Xavier was enjoying Fletcher’s attention and when the question of sampling what they’d be doing later was posed, he used his now free hands and arms to prop himself up and watch his boyfriend. “That sounds like a good idea.” Xavier’s teeth raked across his bottom lip as the anticipation grew along with other things. “Only a sample?” His grin pulled at the corner of his lips and as he was going to lift his ass to assist Fletcher, he heard the door and his gaze snapped in that direction. He could have sworn everyone was still sleeping. And that’s when he realized Fletcher had lost his balance and as he was about to reach for him, Xavier missed and his boyfriend fell back. “Oh no.” He whispered, sliding down to the floor to help Fletcher. “One minute!” He called out toward the door and then let out a small laugh as he rubbed Fletcher’s arm. “Are you alright?” He asked him and made sure that he wasn’t hurt. As he got up and helped lift Fletcher up, Xavier noticed his other problem in his pants and turned around. “Dammit uhhh…” he closed his eyes and began thinking of all the unsexy things he could. The 96 year old crossing guard at the kids school completely naked with the exception of whipped cream anything. “Come in!” He sat at the edge of the bed and placed a pillow on his lap, pulling Fletcher down beside him. “It’s about time! Are you guys okay?! We heard a crash.” Henry came in with a platter of breakfast foods and Winter followed with another platter. “Henry, I told you not to ask questions. We made you both breakfast! We made some for grandad Drew but he’s still asleep sooooo once everyone eats and is ready, we’d like you to join us and Phoebe in the living room for presents!” Winter smiled at both the men sitting beside each other. “No seriously are you guys okay?”

FLETCHER

Fletcher was flat on his bare back at the foot of the bed, eyes squeezed shut as he slowly rolled to one side, rubbing the back of his head. “Ugh, goddammit,” he hissed. He was sure he wasn’t seriously injured but he certainly didn’t want to repeat this again. As he accepted Xavier’s help and they got to their feet, his back stung a little but he momentarily ignored it as he noticed the tent pitched in his boyfriend’s pants. Nothing and everything about their situation had been funny and, oh how he wanted to take care of that ‘problem’ for Xavier. But the kids were just on the other side of the door and likely weren’t going to wait too long for them to get themselves together. He considered sitting in front of Xavier between his legs but thought it would probably make matters worse for his boyfriend. He’d been pondering this with a hand still on the back of his head and his eyes on Xavier’s crotch until the younger man pulled a pillow there. Fletcher was momentarily taken by surprise from Xavier’ pulling him down beside him on the bed but he was trying to put the turn-ons out of his head for the time being and not work himself into the same problem his boyfriend was currently concealing. Looking to the door, Fletcher watched Henry and Winter enter the bedroom, brows lifting at the platters that each of them carried in. “Wow, guys. Yeah, everything’s okay, but wow. You two must’ve been up really early. What time is it?” He looked around for a clock or one of their phones to find out but listened to Winter. “Presents, huh? Well thanks, both of you. We’ll eat our breakfast, get some clothes on and meet you downstairs. Is Phoebe already up? I can get her diaper changed and I’ve got a bottle ready for her in the fridge. It just needs to be warmed up.” Hearing Winter check up on them again, Fletcher said, “Yeah, we’re okay. Promise, kid.”

XAVIER

Xavier began rubbing the back of Fletcher's head and then moved to his back, pouting a bit as he did so. "That sounded so rough, baby. Happy Father's Day, you have a goose egg." Xavier watched as Fletcher's gaze settled on his problem and then pointed to his eyes. "Hey! eyes up here!" He shook his head and grinned at Fletcher. "Stop looking at it like it's a meal! We have to behave. For a little bit." He then smiled as the children walked in, bearing all his teeth like he didn't just chastise his boyfriend for staring at his boner. Their gesture touched Xavier and he watched as the kids placed both platters on the dresser. "This all looks amazing! Wow! And it smells great! Thank you." "Happy Father's Day!" Henry chimed in and then glanced at his watch for Fletcher. "It's 7:22 a.m. Winter woke me up at 6:30 a.m. and we started. We even made the French Toast from scratch. You will be pleasantly surprised at the lack of egg shells." Winter smacked her brother on the arm and smiled when he rubbed it. "Don't listen to him. He makes fun of my cooking skills but he knows he loves it so...enjoy, guys! Phoebe is not up yet but once she is, I'll get her ready and give her the bottle! And then you can snuggle her on the couch and spend some very important daddy/daughter time while we set up the presents!" Winter was so excited about the surprises. "I'm really glad you're okay! Now eat up! We'll see you two in a little bit!" She was about to lead Henry out but then rushed to hug Fletcher tightly and then her father. "Love you, bye." "Peace out, fathers!" Henry threw up the peace sign and exited with his sister. "Peace out, children..." Xavier laughed and glanced over to Fletcher. "They love you."

FLETCHER

Fletcher softly snorted, "God, I hope it won't be that bad. My back hit the floor before my head did..." His comment trailed off as his eyes stared in the direction of Xavier's crotch. But he quickly snapped his gaze up to his boyfriend's face and cast him an unabashed grin. "But it was supposed to be my morning snack." He let out a dramatic sigh and then took a seat beside Xavier at the food of the bed. Henry and Winter's appearance with 2 trays of food really had surprised Fletcher but he was also warmed by their gesture and thoughtfulness. He smiled at them and listened to Henry, chuckling a little. "French toast without eggshells is the best way to have them. Thanks, Henry. Thanks, Winter." He was about to open his mouth again to protest Winter and Henry taking care of Phoebe when she first woke up but reminded himself that it was Father's Day and the kids were wanting to do some nice things for them and Drew. Drew was likely to be the last one up in the house but that was typical. He stood up, partly in front of Xavier to help it not look odd that he was resting a pillow across his lap, and shortly after he'd done so, he received Winter's hug. "Thanks, kid. Love you too. You too, Henry." Henry's departure made him chuckle a bit and after the door was shut again, he went to the dresser and plucked a strip of bacon from one of the trays. "Nice to know since I love 'em too," Fletcher said while munching on the bacon. He strode to the bedroom door and quietly locked it before going back over to the trays of food. "They really outdid themselves with all this. Come look."

XAVIER

You're welcome, dad--and Fletcher!" Winter added quickly, catching herself before saying the D word plurally. Would Fletcher even like that? Would Dad get mad at her considering it took her so long to call him the D word? It was different with her dad. Winter didn't understand why a celebrity would want to adopt her and Henry. Why would he want to add more pressure to his already crazy life? Was he trying to be another Daddy Warbucks? Were they just an Instagram post? Were they just meant to make Xavier look good? It didn't take long for those concerns to disappear and while Henry was convinced a week into being fostered, Winter knew she had to keep her guard up. She never imagined a life like this one in a million years and since Fletcher came a few months after they did, it was easier to include him into their unique family. In fact, Winter was thrilled that her father had found someone and that welcoming two kids into his life didn't keep him from falling in love. Everything that came after, meeting Drew, Phobe, and Emiliana cemented the feeling of family that she had yearned for. Even though she was only a few years older than Henry, it was a big enough gap for her to see herself as his sole caretaker. She couldn't believe her luck. "Come on, let's get Phoebe and you can finish setting up the living room, okay?" She messed Henry's hair and smiled as he skipped away to place everyone's gifts on the couch. Meanwhile, Winter quietly entered the nursery they had set up for Phoebe and she chuckled softly when she noticed Phoebe stretching. "Hey, Wiggleworm! Good morning!" She reached into the crib and picked the baby up. "Henry warmed up your bottle so we're going to change you into your Father's Day outfit and then get some food, ok?" Winter went to work, tickling the baby's toes every chance she got.

Xavier stood up, tossing his pillow to admire his kid's work. He smiled as he took in their gesture before plucking a grape off the vine. Xavier tossed the fruit into his mouth and snaked an arm around his boyfriend. "They really did outdo themselves." He reached for a fork with his free hand and gathered some scrambled eggs onto his utensils. The syrup from the French Toast had trickled down onto the eggs a bit and it tasted delightful. "Oh my God, try the eggs. They remembered the trick I taught them that keeps them fluffy." He gathered some more onto his fork and raised it to Fletcher's lips so that he could have a taste. "Mm before we get ready and go out there, let me give you my gift." He tiptoed for a kiss and then opened his closet to pull out a large-sized gift with various objects inside. He opened his top drawer and pulled out an envelope with two Father's Day cards and handed that to Fletcher first. "Okay, first gif is in there and the resttt...in here." He placed the bag on the dresser before reaching for more fruit.

FLETCHER

When the kids left the bedroom and Fletcher got to munching on some bacon, he leaned against the dresser to watch Xavier ditch the pillow and chuckled. He leaned over to drop a kiss on his boyfriend's shoulder and then hummed a little before accepting the offered bite of eggs. He licked his lips and nodded, "Mhm, those are great," and then he raised his brows. "Gift, huh?" Initially, he'd folded his arms and watched Xavier make his way to the closet. "Uh. That looks like gifts as in plural, sweetheart." He stuck the remainder of bacon into his mouth and dusted his fingertips along his pajama pants before taking hold of the envelope. As he chewed, he opened it and read the card, a soft smile appearing on his face. When he flipped the card open, however, he saw two strips flutter out and bent to retrieve them. "Holy shit, the Foo Fighters? I haven't seen them live before." Playfully, he tapped the corners of the tickets to his bare chest and stared up at the ceiling. "Now to just figure out who the hell I'm gonna go with..."

XAVIER

“I haven’t seen them either but I hear they’re amazing live and I figured you’d really like the show. We’re right at the front so the seats are incredible.” He heard what Fletcher said and raised a brow. “No sexy short kings come to mind? None? Damn, just when I thought we were getting hella serious.” Xavier sighed dramatically as he started cutting up his French Toast and then took a bite. Henry was right about Winter getting the recipe right. Everything tasted delicious. “Mmm Phoebe got you a present and a card too by the way.” A gentle smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “And I got a couple of gifts. Plural, yes but I can’t help myself and I wanted to spoil you.”

FLETCHER

"This is incredible, babe," Fletcher said, staring at the tickets in awe. He was already looking forward to going to the concert with Xavier but easily joked, "Mm. Do you know James McAvoy? He seems like he might enjoy Foo Fighters." He glanced up from the tickets and smirked before kissing Xavier's cheek. And then he moved from leaning on the dresser to standing behind Xavier and sliding his bare arms around Xavier's waist. He kissed the groove of his neck a few times and then reached around Xavier for some grapes and some bacon. "Are you compensating for not getting to be my sugar daddy before?" he teased in between bites and then shifted to his boyfriend's side to open the card from Phoebe. "I know you had to have had a lot of fun picking all this out," he commented, eyes lowering to read the card. His smile returned when he finished reading it, and then he propped both cards on the dresser. Setting the tickets down, he reached into the gift bag. Before taking the items out, he asked, "Do you want your gifts now or later? Fletcher had flowers being delivered after remembering how much Xavier liked getting them for Valentine's Day but he didn't know the exact time the bouquet would be delivered. The matching outfit with Phoebe made him chuckle. "This is cute. Maybe we'll rock these today." He had his and Phoebe's clothes for the week in his duffle still but thought it would be nice for them to wear the new attire. He grinned at the Foo Fighters shirt, as well as the tumbler, commenting, "New favorite cup." But when he took out the framed image, Fletcher's expression softened completely. "X... this is more meaningful than you know." He lifted his gaze to his boyfriend and after placing everything back in the gift bag, he gathered his boyfriend in his arms and kissed him full on the lips. Taking his time, he put as much of his appreciation into it as possible, tasting vanilla, cinnamon & syrup from Xavier by the time he pulled away. "Thank you, sweetheart."

XAVIER

Xavier loved seeing Fletcher so happy. There was something wonderful about how his face lit up when it did. He saw it often when he was with Phoebe, making him fall in love with his boyfriend repeatedly. At the question about James McAvoy, Xavier pretended to be in deep thought. "He does seem like the type, you're right. I could give him a ring tonight? See if he's available?" He grinned and looked back up at Fletcher when he situated himself behind him. Xavier enjoyed every kiss and let out a soft chuckle as Fletcher's facial hair moved against his neck and tickled him. He reached behind him, his fingers walking up his boyfriend's neck and they settled at the nape, gently caressing the skin as they buried themselves into his hair. "I am. Just wait until your birthday. Took everything in my power NOT to give that present to you today. But I'll behave." He wasn't lying. Xavier had ideas and since he preplanned most things, he was already getting that prepared as well. "Oh! before I forget, I got us tickets for the Deadpool and Wolverine grand opening fan event next month on the 25th. I actually got those last month because I wanted to make sure we had tickets to go see the movie. As soon as I heard about Fan events and presales, I knew it had to be done." When Fletcher moved to the side, Xavier's arm dropped and he leaned against the dresser to continue eating, stopping after having a healthy portion to wipe his hands and mouth. "That's completely up to you. You can give them to me when we all do presents or now. I did have a lot of fun picking them out. I got Drew a few things too and that was so much fun. One's back at his house and set up. I hope he likes it. " Xavier smiled as Fletcher admired the matching outfit, happy to hear they'd wear them today. "I'd like to see that." He was enjoying each and every reaction to his gifts, grinning at the favorite cup mention.

When Fletcher stopped at the frame, Xavier leaned in, biting his bottom lip as he stared at it too. "Yeah? I wanted you to have something special. Your first Father's Day and I wanted you to have something from when she was born. That's so important, those memories." It's why he had put together an album for Fletcher and the Sip N See. Xavier wanted those moments available for Fletcher always to look back on. He reached to wrap his arms around Fletcher's neck once Xavier was in his arms and looked up at him lovingly before their lips locked. Xavier closed his eyes, taking in the feeling and keeping Fletcher as close as possible. When his boyfriend pulled away, Xavier sighed. "You're very welcome, baby."

FLETCHER

"Yeah, maybe you can pull some strings. Get me a hot date for that night." He grinned and playfully squeezed Xavier's butt before wrapping his arms around him from behind. He'd closed his eyes while affectionately tending to his boyfriend's neck and shoulder, simultaneously enjoying the feel of the other man's s fingers wandering into his hair. He grinned and chuckled, "Are you sure you're gonna be able to wait another couple of months?" He couldn't even imagine what Xavier had in store for him for his birthday but he was sure it was going to be both thoughtful and plentiful. Gift giving and acts of service really were love languages Xavier most often expressed. And throughout their relationship, Fletcher adapted to understanding that about him and loving him for all his sincerity. He kissed his neck and shoulder a few times before halting abruptly, the moment he heard Xavier mention tickets for the premiere of Deadpool & Wolverine. "Shut the fuck up," Fletcher blurted out in amazement. "Jesus, X, this is too much." He'd never been this spoiled in his life before; Drew gifted him things from time to time but like Fletcher, there typically weren't many or too extravagant, with the exception of The Ink Tank. Fletcher knew Xavier enjoyed doing things like this. He was about to answer Xavier but then asked, "Set up? What'd you get him?" And after finishing with the gifts and kissing Xavier, he said, "You are my sweetheart." Once he gave a few more tender pecks, Fletcher turned to the platter while remaining in Xavier's arms to take a few bites of the French toast. After licking his lips, he agreed, "Mhm, you were right. Winter killed it with the French toast." He enjoyed some more of the breakfast with Xavier before going to his duffle and taking out the card he'd gotten for him, along with a square gift box. "I've got a couple other things but they're supposed to be delivered sometime today."

XAVIER

“I’ll do my best. I just hope McAvoy can do that thing I do with my tongue you like so much.” He loved being in Fletcher’s arms. His smile remained on his face as he felt his boyfriend’s lips brush against his skin and he laughed when he was asked if he would be able to hold on to the surprise he had planned for Fletcher’s birthday. “I’ll definitely try my best.” Xavier would be the first to admit that spoiling others was his favorite thing to do. He didn’t feel like he needed to do that to buy anyone’s affection, it just came naturally. Coming from nothing, it meant a lot to him to be able to do big gestures for others especially those he loved. When he felt Fletcher stop his kisses and he told him to shut up, Xavier laughed again and shook his head. “Not shutting up but that’s not even a Father’s Day present. It was honestly something I meant to do anyway and had forgotten to mention to you. I already knew I wanted you to go to the premiere and the fan event is going to be so sick with the popcorn buckets and the giveaways and with it being in laser IMAX 3D, well, I really wanted to go with you. I know Deadpool is your favorite so…” he shrugged a little and then kissed Fletcher’s cheek. “It’s a garden bed!” He smiled so widely that his teeth shined. “Baby, it’s so beautiful and it has a little set up for his tools and for extra pots. I got pots and soils too and I figured I’d take him to the nursery when he has time so he could pick out the seeds for it. He won’t have to bend too much to tend to it and I could help him paint it if he doesn’t want the wood finish. And if he likes it, I can get him another. I’m not saying he can’t tend to his garden but I figured something more accessible would make him feel good about it.” Xavier knew that the garden meant a lot to Drew and he had done a lot of research on Parkinson’s by now to know that he didn’t want to Drew to feel less than by taking away his hobbies. What he needed was accessibility.

He chuckled at all the kissed and his cheeks warmed up from Fletcher calling him his sweetheart. Being someone’s anything, being his something made Xavier feel so complete. He reached for the last piece of his French toast. “Right? She’s a good kid. “ he already knew what Winter and Henry had gotten both Drew and Fletcher and was looking forward to see both their faces. When Fletcher walked off and came back with a card and gift, Xavier, very excitedly, opened the card with a giant smile. His first Father’s Day. He really couldn’t believe those were words used to describe today. Xavier was a dad. A dad to the most incredible children. He pressed the card against his chest and looked up at Fletcher with a thankful expression. “Love you.” He was so genuinely touched that he had a partner to share this day with, one that was also celebrating his first. He then set the card beside the others before opening the box, his eyes twinkling at the sight of the bracelet with the names of both his kids. “This means so much to me. It’s gorgeous. Here, help me put it on, then.” He smiled, removing the bracket from the box before handing it to his boyfriend. “Ya know, you’ve made me so happy today. And you’ve made my kids happy too. I don’t know if you realize how much I love you. It’s bloody amazing. you’re bloody amazing.”!

FLETCHER

"Hm... but is that appropriate concert-going decorum?" Fletcher pretended to ponder before grinning at Xavier. He chuckled at Fletcher planning to try his best at keeping whatever plans were being made for his birthday under wraps for the next month and a half, and then relished the moment of the two of them being physically affectionate towards each other. He then plucked a few grapes and after giving Xavier the gift and card, he moved to the bed where he sat and watched him open the card and then the bracelet. "Love you too, he said back and took in Xavier's reaction to the bracelet. He smiled and then held his hand out to take the item, undoing the latch and holding it out before guiding it around Xavier's wrist and hooking it shut again. "Thank god it fits," he smiled, glad he'd chosen the right size range for the bracelet. "I feel like you could be standing in front of a mirror saying that." He smiled warmly and twined his fingers with Xavier's before pulling him onto his lap and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. "You, Henry and Winter have added so much light to my life. Mine, Drew's and Phoebe's lives are worlds better with you three in it." He kissed Xavier's chest and then rested his cheek there. "And now it's damn near impossible to even try to imagine not having you and the kids as a part of it." His fingers ran slowly up and down Xavier's back "Thank you for loving us, sweetheart."

XAVIER

"For me it is." Xavier teased. He looked over to the monitor, smiling as Winter was getting Phoebe ready. He was glad that the kids had really grown to love Fletcher's family like their own. There was something really special about how well everyone gelled together and how much they all cared for one another. Sometimes it felt like it's always been like this. Xavier smiled as Fletcher hooked the bracelet on. He turned it around so that he could admire the names on it again and then tapped the empty spot beside Henry's name. "And that spot is for my munchkin." He smiled even wider, letting that thought set in. If things continued going in such a positive direction for Fletcher and him, he hoped that they'd become a unit, a little family. "It fits perfectly." Xavier joined Fletcher, sitting on his lap, and wrapped his arms around his neck. He listened to his boyfriend's words and he swore he felt his heart swell at that moment. "We feel the same about all of you. Henry is obsessed with Drew. Winter thinks we were all connected in a past life somehow and she thinks Phoebe is like her little doll." He chuckled softly, dropping his arms when Fletcher moved to rest his head against his chest. Xavier began massaging his boyfriend's hair and he kissed the top of his head. "Thank you for making it so easy." They remained close in that position for a while longer with Xavier picking up his boyfriend's chin, framing his face gently so he could capture his lips. When he heard a few knocks, he smiled and looked up at the door. "Come in!" He didn't get up from Fletcher's lap but waited to see who was there. Henry poked his little head in and waved. "Uh, sorry dads--dad. Dad and Fletcher? I'm working on it. Drew is up and ready and Phoebe is finishing up her bottle. We have some light tunes on Spotify and presents galore! I'll see you lovebirds in the living room!" Xavier could hear Henry's giggle and shook his head. "Let me throw on a shirt."

Xavier got up but not before kissing his boyfriend again. "If you behave, I'll show you some of that concert decorum a little later."

FLETCHER

Fletcher glanced down at the space on the bracelet Xavier tapped at and smiled a bit. He'd considered a charm for Phoebe but he and Xavier hadn't yet talked about the blending of their families or if he'd felt like a second father to Phoebe, the way he was surprised to find himself already feeling like a stepfather to Winter and Henry. But Fletcher had saved the name of the business he'd ordered the bracelet from and would be able to add to it someday. His arms stayed wrapped around Xavier's lower back while they talked and kissed. It wasn't until there were knocks at the door again that his lips parted from his boyfriend's. He looked to see who was there and then let out a low chuckle from Henry's greeting. "Thanks, Henry. I'll get my shirt on too and we'll be down in a sec." He'd have to grab Drew's meds on the way down but appreciated the kids giving him and Xavier a somewhat later start to their morning than usual. Fletcher met Xavier's lips and spanked his ass shortly after he'd gotten off of his lap. "Behave like that? Or behave like a monk?" He smirked standing up and looking around the floor for the shirt he'd discarded the night before. He picked up the ribbed tank and pulled it on over his head. As he consolidated the few bits of food onto one tray and then stacked them, Fletcher added, "I'll keep Phoebe in my hands so I won't be tempted. How about that?" He smirked, carried the trays out on his way to brush his teeth and then stopped by Drew's room in the Mitchell home so that he could check his daily medicine container. The Sunday A.M. medication was already emptied out and out of habit, Fletcher looked at each spot to make sure the correct ones were either empty or still filled. And then he made his way to the living room to join his uncle, boyfriend and then kids.

XAVIER

“Somewhere in between both?” Xavier chuckled, getting his shirt on and plucking Drew’s card from his dresser. He knew his kids had the sunglasses case wrapped in the living room and the garden bed would be a surprise in the form of a photo inside the card so that Drew would know what was waiting for him back home. Xavier quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth before stopping in the kitchen to get the Brita filter and some glasses out for everyone. He started a fresh pot of coffee in case Drew or Fletcher wanted more and then helped put away some of the perishable items that had been used to make breakfast. “We made grandpa Drew breakfast too.” Henry appeared like a ninja, giving Xavier a fright that made him chuckle. “You gotta teach me how to do that.” Henry smiled at his father and then gave him a hug. “Happy Father’s Day, dad. Did you like breakfast? Did Fletcher?” “Mm hmm. We loved it. That French toast was to die for and by the looks of it, you two made bacon just the way Fletcher likes it.” “Good!” Henry led his father into the living room and Xavier trailed behind carrying the Brita Filter and a few cups. “Good morning! There’s a fresh pot if you want more coffee, Drew. Or I can make you some tea. Whatever you’re in the mood for.” He went up to the older man and hugged him. “Happy Father’s Day. Sleep good?” Winter was sitting on the floor with Phoebe, showing her a couple of toys. “Don’t do any dishes! Fletcher! I can hear you!” She smirked and chuckled when Xavier messed with her hair as he passed her to sit down on the couch. “Okay! There are presents that I will now hand to you. These ones are from Winter and I” he went up to Drew and hugged him, Winter handed Phoebe to Xavier so he could hug him too. Xavier smiled when Phoebe was in his arms and he blew a few raspberries onto her tummy before he let Fletcher take her. “Check out her outfit.” The kids then handed Fletcher his bags and Xavier his. “Okay! Open them!!” Winter beamed

FLETCHER

“Hm… I don’t think I’ve ever actively tried to be monk-like. In fact I don’t even know why I asked. But I’ll give it a try. I guess,” Fletcher sighed, pretending to be disappointed that he wasn’t given the go-ahead to give more smacks to Xavier’s ass while they were downstairs. After the two of them finished getting ready and going downstairs, Fletcher was rinsing off some of the dishes but paused when Winter called him out. He chuckled a little and shook his head. “Alright, alright, Oh Pyschic One,” he called back, turning off the faucet and drying his hands. He made his way into the living room and took a seat beside his uncle. “Happy Father’s Day, old man,” he said with an affectionate jostling of Drew’s knee. “Thanks,” Drew replied and a beat later, he nudged his nephew and nodded in Henry and Winter’s direction. “These’re some great kids."

“Yeah, they are,” he murmured back, already knowing that Xavier hit the jackpot when he and the foster agency arranged for Henry and Winter to come live with him. He then watched Phoebe be passed from Xavir to him; Fletcher extended his arms and accepted his daughter, immediately holding her up high and looking up into her face. “Good morning, tree frog,” he said with a warm smile and then glanced down at the tutu onesie she had on. With a grin, he brought her close so that he could repeatedly kiss her cheek, “My first one thanks to you,” he whispered to her, sitting his daughter in his lap. He looked at Xavier, “Did you get her this outfit?” He wouldn’t put it past his boyfriend, but he also wouldn’t put it past Winter and Henry either. Or Drew for that matter, but he started with asking Xavier. And then the gifts came. “Wow, guys,” he started, brows shooting up without having opened them yet. With one arm secured around Phoebe, he started with the gift bag that held temporary ‘dad’ tattoos and a bracelet. The tattoos made him chuckle, “I can rock a couple of these today.” And the bracelet was on that he started to put on but paused and read the tag with it, instructing him to look inside the stand-out charm. Squeezing on y shut, Fletcher held up the bracelet and looked, only to find himself gazing at an image of him and Phoebe. She’d been scrunched up to his chest, fast asleep and he was staring down at her, serenely watching her sleep. The bracelet immediately went on his right wrist. “Thanks, you two. This is…” He gestured to the bracelet and then gave a few shallow nods, unsure of how best to say how meaningful it was. “Yeah…” was all he could manage before reaching for the wrapped square. In truth, he didn’t know what he was looking at but surmised enough that it would get hung up somewhere. “This looks pretty cool… are those sound waves?” he asked, looking from Henry to Winter.

XAVIER

Xavier chuckled at Fletcher's words and shook his head as they both got ready. Once they were downstairs and reprimanded by Winter, he moved into the living room to take his appointed seat. He smiled at the gentle interaction between Drew and Fletcher and also at how much Henry enjoyed having Drew around. He knew Winter loved him too but Henry had already grown an attachment. Once Phoebe was in Fletcher's arms, Xavier looked on with admiration and he smiled at his boyfriend's words to his daughter. "I sure did. That tutu had her name on it." He tickled Phoebe's side a little and then let Henry sit beside him. "You two did such a good job with all of this." "Winter would have gotten the black tutu but dad was like, red suits her well too. We wanted everyone to have a great day. It's our first Father's Day with like, a real dad and all." He smiled at his dad and Xavier wrapped his arm around the younger boy. "Well, it's all very special." Xavier winked at his teenage daughter who smiled back. She was busy waiting to see everyone's reactions. Xavier had opened his gifts, feeling very touched by all the details. He promised his kids he'd hang the family frame and tell them how much he loved his mug and personalized Pokemon cards. When he was finished, Xavier handed Drew the card which contained the photo of his new garden bed and the leather Gucci case for his new aviators. While Fletcher tried to come up with something to say after placing the bracelet he got from his kids on his wrist, Xavier massaged his back affectionately. Winter stood up and walked to Fletcher, turning the sound waves around to reveal the QR code. "Yeah. take a picture, it'll take you to a Spotify....you'll see!" Winter explained as Xavier took in his daughter's excited expression. She was beaming and it wasn't hard to notice. "Go ahead, Fletcher!" Henry smiled widely, waiting for the older man to follow the directions.

FLETCHER

Fletcher smiled, knowing his boyfriend well enough to have correctly guessed that he was behind Phoebe's outfit. "The red looks good on her." And when Xavier tickled her side, she squirmed a little and made her gasping laughs that Fletcher loved so much. She'd only recently been responding to being tickled but she'd been laughing at things for the past few months. His smile softened at the information Henry supplied about the black versus the red and Fletcher nodded in agreement about the red suiting her. "The day's early but I think you two already did a great job with making today special for all of us." "Damn right," Drew agreed. "You kids are very thoughtful. All of you," he said, shifting a pointed gaze to Xavier and Fletcher. He was content watching the two men open gifts from the kids and was happy seeing his nephew not only touched by the gifts that were given but that he was in love with someone who clearly loved him back and had a couple of kids who loved him and his family as well.

He hadn't expected to be gifted anything but when Xavier handed over a card and a glasses case, he gave the young man a harmless look of reproach, "I shoulda known better than to think you saying 'Happy Father's Day' would be enough." He saw the Gucci label and shook his head before setting the container in his lap to open the card. Chuckling at the card's front, he then opened it and just barely caught the picture that slipped out into his lap. He finished reading the card first and then picked up the picture. "What in the...?" He recognized the garden bed right away and said, "Thanks, Xavier. This is gonna be great on the old knees." He chuckled a little while patting one of his kneecaps and then he flipped open the sunglasses case. "And you're gonna have me looking like I should be in some kinda gardening magazine with these bad boys on." Though his hands were unsteady, he took out the sunglasses and decided to slide them on his face before sitting back in his seat and going back to watching the happenings in front of him. His son had texted him before he'd woken up, and his daughter was likely to call later, but the present company held his full attention. Fletcher was looking at the framed sound waves and listened to what Winter explained after turning it around. Keeping am arm around Phoebe, he shifted to take out his phone from his pajama pant pocket and tapped for the camera. Scanning the QR code, he was immediately taken to Spotify. His brows furrowed until he tapped the "play" button and heard a series of Phoebe's very young laughter. While the bracelet rendered him mostly speechless, this present very nearly made him cry.

His eyes misted up and while no tears spilled over, he was deeply touched by how priceless this gift was. Phoebe would continue to grow. Her laugh would change as she did. And now Fletcher would have this memory to cherish. Setting his phone back on the couch, he stood up with Phoebe still in his arm and moved to hug Winter tightly in his free arm, and then he did the same to Henry. "You guys are the best. Hands down."

XAVIER

"It really does. And it's not pink!" Xavier looked over to Drew and laughed, enjoying that they both were on the pink train when it came to Phoebe but Xavier did try to include other colors. He adored hearing the baby laugh and it made him melt. Xavier always loved children and knew that someday, someway, he'd end up with a house full of them. It was nice to see some of that happening already. Henry felt a sense of pride at Fletcher's words. They felt important to him. He really wanted to impress Fletcher and Drew and he wanted to have a big family so badly that this most felt like a dream to him. "You're welcome." When Drew spoke, Xavier grinned, his gaze shifting from one man to the other. He continued rubbing Fletcher's back, feeling how emotional he was getting and he felt lucky to have such incredible kids who had quickly grown to love his boyfriend and his family. When Drew opened the card, Xavier watched eagerly, glad that he liked the content of the card and that he seemed to like the gift. "You're welcome! If you like it, we can add more here and there. And looking stylish there, Drew! Gotta get you on a gardening dating app or something." He winked at Drew and chuckled. Henry and Winter quickly placed the giant box and gift bag that belonged to Drew at his feet and hugged him again. "Happy Father's Day!!" They said it in unison. Once Fletcher figured out the QR code, the two of them beamed. Xavier, unaware of the contents of these gifts, watched his boyfriend in anticipation, curious as to what would play for Fletcher. When he heard Phoebe's laugh, he smiled, looking up at a smiling Winter and Henry, and watched as Fletcher stood up to hug them both. "You guys...that's very special." He felt his own tears forming but he wiped them away. His kids hugged Fletcher tightly and Xavier welcomed his boyfriend back to his spot, gently massaging his knee. "Alright, Drew! Let's see what you've got!"

FLETCHER

"That's the biggest surprise," Fletcher dryly quipped, a soft smirk on his lips. He saw his uncle shake his head at him but he gladly shared a look with Xavier who knew of his fondness for pink. The gifts from Henry and Winter had been deeply meaningful to Fletcher. The bracelet was something he was going to wear as often as possible, and he already decided that the soundwave frame was going to go in his bedroom. Henry and Winter were true treasures of children, that much Fletcher was sure of. Xavier had been the perfect person to have been chosen to foster them. And the day that the children legally became his, Fletcher truly was happy for all 3 of them. Winter and Henry had constant and unconditional love from Xavier. And Xavier had his compass in the two of them, guiding him back home any and every time he needed it. For Fletcher,.it was a sight to witness and a pleasure to be enfolded into,l their family, along with Drew and Phoebe. After Drew learned that Xavier purchased him a new gardening bed, he listened and then laughed, "Hell no. I'm not looking to date anybody." "You sound like me now," Fletcher teased. "Now look at me."

"Yeah well you're still plenty young for all that and had the love to give. Any love I've got to gives for you guys and your kids." It went without saying that Drew included Rodrigo and Jade with that, and to a lesser extent, his own children and his son’s children. He'd then looked at the gifts the kids placed at his feet and looked at them in disbelief while returning their hugs. "Alright, Mitchells, this is the last time you get to spoil me without any fussing, you got it?" He got to opening the gifts, slowly, while Fletcher learned about the audio that went with the soundwave frame. The sound of Phoebe's innocent, sweet laugh seemed to have touched everyone who hadn't already known about the audio. And after Fletcher stood and hugged the kids with gratitude, Drew agreed with Xavier. "Yeah, you kids really knocked it outta the park with that one." He enjoyed the moment a little while longer, and then finished opening his gifts from Henry and Winter. The shirt with Phoebe's face all over made him laugh and the whiskey glass had him smiling from seeing the 3 kids' names engraved beneath handprints. When he finally reached the large box and unwrapped it, he gave an astounded chuckle, "This is gonna be a gamechanger for my old ass. Thanks for this." His smile was genuine as he looked between Winter and Henry. "Between thie anr the flower bed your dad got me, I'm gonna be growing the hell outta my herbs, veggies, fruits and flowers."

XAVIER

"Last time spoiling you without any fussing? Hard ask." Xavier chimed in and the kids laughed a bit. Phoebe had been reaching for Xavier's face and pretended to gobble her little hand up. As she grew, he was starting to see more of Fletcher in her, and Xavier couldn't help but adore her little features. He couldn't believe he had the privilege to witness a lot of her development already. Xavier continued playing with her as the kids looked on to watch Drew open his gifts. "You got your little teef coming in? Daddy told me!" He whispered in sing-song, trying to get the baby to smile as much as possible. "Mm, I don't know. Dad may be on to something with a dating app." Winter grinned as she watched Drew admire the gifts, gently pushing in the aviators on the older man's face. She was so proud of Henry for budgeting his allowance and getting some sincere gifts and Winter felt so much pride in herself for doing the same. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so full of love for so many people. She and Henry stayed silent after their gift-giving abilities were complimented. Once Drew was done, Henry beamed and said "You're welcome." Xavier smiled at Drew's words and then added, "Just let me know when and we'll get some seeds. I got a call that they want to do some comedy special back in New York City next week so I'll be there for that just for a week but once I'm back, we're all spending a lot of time together. I have some ideas. It's going to be a great summer. " He sighed contently, "Thank you so much for letting us into your lives. We love you guys so much." He then glanced over to his boyfriend. "You're gonna get sick and tired of me." He chuckled and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

FLETCHER

"I think you're up for the challenge," Drew told him with a deadpanned expression. He then shook his head when the kids laughed. "Don't encourage him you two. I mean it," he added with a wag of his finger. "If it helps," Fletcher said to his uncle as he passed Phoebe to Xavier, "I can try to rein him in. I'm not attached to his hip so there's no guarantees but I can try." He smirked to his boyfriend and found himself gazing a while longer at him and Phoebe--a sight he wouldn't ever get tired of. He loved them both and knew Phoebe loved Xavier. And as much as Xavier praised him as a father, Fletcher felt equally about Xavier whenever he witnessed it with Henry and Winter as well as the way he was with Phoebe. He listened to Xavier and Drew and while he was mildly bummed about Xavier's upcoming trip to New York, Fletcher wasn't one to express it or say anything unless asked. Settling down next to Xavier again, he glanced about at the family, their family and let his eyes linger on Xavier's face. "We love you too. All of you." He shut his eyes when Xavier's lips pressed to his cheek but when he opened them again, he dead-eyed his boyfriend. "I will not get sick or tired of you. Not seriously anyway." He cupped the back of Xavier's head and kissed him full on the lips for a few seconds and then told him, "Put that outta your mind today," while offering Phoebe his index finger to grip and shake. After a moment, he asked Winter and Henry, "Did you two eat breakfast?"

XAVIER

"Always, sir." Xavier chuckled but then let the moment pass between Drew and the kids. They were so drawn to him. He had learned it had a lot to do with them never having a family. They didn't know what a grandfather was or an aunt or a cousin. They survived together without the kind of exposure. Henry had stories to tell and awards to show off. Winter just needed a nudge, a protective figure, someone to talk to when teenage life got to be exhausting. "Okay. No app." Henry giggled and Xavier felt his eyes well up. It's not like the kids didn't have his parents, it was just that he had also been a kid that wished for a big family. Xavier happily accepted Phoebe into his arms and she smiled, stuck her tongue out, and squirmed and giggled; he enjoyed every part of it. "He can try but I'm so cute..." Xavier continued playing with Phoebe , cherishing every coo and giggle. The kids were helping with cleaning up and Winter had gotten quiet as she text someone which made Xavier's brows shoot up. He watched from the corner of his eye but knew Fletcher would soon get him to well, reign it in. Xavier let the tears fall from his eyes, making sure only Fletcher saw them and he smiled at him, pressing a finger against his lips before letting his boyfriend kiss him. "Good. Feeling is mutual." At Fletcher's question, Winter pocketed her phone and nodded. "Why don't you tell Fletcher, Hen?" Winter smirked and Henry rolled his eyes. "I ate 10 slices of bacon and two pancakes. I kept eating it like a snack until it was too late to realize I had gone through half a package." Xavier's eyes widened. "Son, you better be kidding." "Meh, he'll be fine." Winter laughed. "But yes, we ate but it won't be long before lunchtime rolls around so everyone figure out what we're ordering and go get dressed or whatever adults do on a day off. We meet back here in 1200 hours."

FLETCHER

Their family dynamic was relatively new, and it was unique but it was beautiful and it was theirs. Fletcher was truly happy about that fact, especially given his own upbringing and how, for a large part of his life, it ended up feeling like him and Drew as their own family unit. Drew's kids separated themselves as swiftly as possible thanks to Fletcher. Drew never told him as much but his cousins certainly did. And while he used to have bouts of guilt for Drew about this, he'd since gotten over it and kept himself out of their dysfunction unless it was something directly affecting Drew. Rodrigo and Emiliana entered their lives in an unexpected way and were now family just as much as Phoebe was his blood. And now, they had Xavier, Winter and Henry whom he hoped would forever be in their lives. He chuckled at Xavier commenting on his own cuteness and then quickly said, "I want all of you to remember this moment with Xavier calling himself cute." He grinned to his boyfriend and their occasional "cute" battles with each other in private. And a few moments later he saw the tears form and spill over Xavier's eyes. While a bit curious and concerned, he hadn't fussed and just quietly wiped his tears away following the kiss on Xavier's lips, he gently kissed each eyelid and then slipped an arm around Xavier's back. He briefly Winter's expression but hadn't called her on it, thinking that he or Xavier could ask her about it later. His brows raised upon hearing how many strips of bacon Henry had eaten. "Maybe cut back to four next time, huh, kid?" He chuckled a little and then said, "But I'm glad you two ate. And hey, thanks for cleaning things up." He listened to Winter and quietly muttered so only Xavier could hear, "Not sure they wanna know what these adults do on a day off." Quickly though, he spoke normally and asked, "1200 hours? Are you prepping to join the military?"

He checked the time on his phone and leaned into Xavier's side for a moment. "Phoebe's gotta go down for her first nap in a little while, probably by the time we're done showering and getting dressed for the day." And by that time, she would also likely need her diaper changed again. Still wearing the aviators, Drew told the bunch, "I was thinking of taking a little walk around the neighborhood after I got dressed if either of you kids wanna join me." While he napped about as much as Phoebe did throughout the day, Drew knew that staying active was important. He raised from his chair and reached for his cane. "We can all figure out something for lunch later on, yeah?" Fletcher suggested, gathering the gifts to consolidate in the gift bags. It would be easier to figure out where to put certain things once he was back at Drew's house. For the time being, he left them at the center of the coffee table and went over to his uncle. "You need anything?" Drew knew he was asking if he needed any help and waved him off, "No, no. I can dress myself. If I come back out with underwear on my head and my shirt hanging off my arms, then I might need something." Fletcher rolled his eyes at his uncle, "Smartass," and then watched after the older man taking to the stairs with one hand on the railing and the other holding his cane. Drew going up and down stairs always made him a little apprehensive but he knew that giving his uncle some independence where possible was important. As soon as Drew was out of sight though, Fletcher asked Xavier, "You ready to go up and get ready for the day?" He hadn't forgotten about his morning delight promise to Xavier but figured if the kids ended up going on a walk with Drew, that they could take advantage of that moment.

XAVIER

“Yeah yeah. Remember it because it’s not often.” Xavier laughed and his expression softened at his boyfriend’s gentle gestures. He smiled, nuzzling Fletcher’s neck for a few seconds and leaving a kiss against the inked skin there before pulling back. When Fletcher leaned into him and made the comment about what they do on their day off, he chuckled softly and shook his head. “Don’t think so,no.” Winter rolled her eyes playfully and shrugged. “Can you imagine me in the military ? The school has a this junior ROTC and while the uniform is nice I doubt I’d survive.” She grinned and stood up in case Drew needed help. She noticed that Henry did the same thing. They both volunteered to go on the walk with Drew and agreed to meet back in the living room once they were ready. Xavier stood up as well, swaying Phoebe gently in his arms and noticing that she was already trying to doze off. “Okay.” He kissed her cheek and handed her to her daddy. “Let’s get the munchkin ready for her nap and we can sort our morning out then. Winter, Henry listen to Drew please.” They both nodded and Xavier pointed to his eyes and then up the stairs indicating that Winter also keep an eye on Drew to which she silently nodded. Once upstairs, he yelled out a ‘Have Fun!’ To Drew, Henry, and Winter once they yelled that they were leaving. He turned around to face his boyfriend and grinned. “Want to take a shower with me after the baby falls asleep? I’ll make it worth you while.”

FLETCHER

"Reminders like that don't need to be made often. Just as long as you know it like the rest of us," Fletcher replied with a cheeky wink to Xavier. He did his best to dry his boyfriend's eyes and then shut his own when eyes upon feeling the kiss against his neck. When muttering about their day off, he grinned, and then Winter's response made him chuckle. "Who knows? You could've and some secret ambition just now coming to light." He was glad that Henry and Winter were going to join Drew on his walk, not liking the idea of his uncle going out alone. If anything happened, he knew Winter and Henry would call or one of them would come back to get him and Xavier. When he glanced over to Phoebe, he saw her resting her head against Xavier's shoulder and her small lips part for a yawn. He smiled softly when Xavier handed her back to him and once he had his arms around her, Phoebe rested against him in a similar fashion, head tucked under his chin. He caught the exchange between Xavier and Winter and gave his boyfriend a grateful smile. After a little bit or swaying and dropping a couple of kisses to the top of Phoebe's head, Fletcher followed Xavier upstairs and went in the direction of the nursery Xavier set up for her. He quietly began to sing Rascal Flatts' "My Wish" to her and took slow strides around the room, all the help further lull her to sleep. When he heard Xavier's question, he nodded and then grinned at his boyfriend's last remark as he continued softly singing Phoebe to sleep. It had been a good ten minutes before he felt his daughter was in a deep enough sleep to lay her down in her crib. Once he felt assured she wasn't going to wake right up again, he kissed her forehead, laid her in the middle of her crib and pulled a light blanket over her, up to her chest.

With the monitor on, Fletcher left the room with Xavier, twining his fingers with his boyfriend. "Now about that shower. I'm pretty sure I'm the one who promised morning delights first. You and the kids gave me a lot this morning. I'd like to return a little of that to you while we have some time to ourselves." Passing the bathroom, he led Xavier back to the bedroom saying, "We'll shower. Later." And when he pulled Xavier past the threshold and into his arms for a passionate kiss, Fletcher reached over his boyfriend's head to shut the door, intending to pick up where they left off earlier that morning.

[object-obsession]

| NLRP #12 | All-time legends

Now I want to make a personal list of my favourite media that include sentient inanimate objects, because these media deserve some love.

1. Movie: The Brave Little Toaster (1987)

This movie may have created my entire childhood. Everything was perfect about it. LITERALLY EVERYTHING. The characters were amazing, the storyline was the best, the song were bangers and just... just... wow. There will not be another one like this. I'm sure of it.

I feel like it was fate when I found this movie sitting randomly in the library one day. It drew my attention right away. I never borrowed a movie from the library, but thank God I took this movie with me.

I've seen this movie countless times. I remember one time, I felt sick, I watched this movie and my sickness was gone just like that.

What I particularly love about this movie, is its dark moments. And to be honest, the movie was almost solely dark moments. From the moment the movie started. I mean, SERIOUSLY, which part was NOT dark?! But I love the fact that directors still dared to make such dark kids movies back then. Movies that would be enjoyable for all ages and would have you on the edge of your seat despite looking silly.

[SPOILER ALERT]

My favourite part of the movie was with the cutting edge appliances. It featured my first favourite character of the movie, too: the entertainment complex (which I for years referred to as "het grote, donkerblauwe ding", which is Dutch for "the big, dark blue thing", because I didn't know what it was supposed to be). But now he's my second favourite character, because my most favourite character is the stove from the junk shop, which is ironic, because he didn't have even a single voiceline outside of the song. But it's just the way it is. Speaking of the junk shop, B Movie is my most favourite song of the movie, closely followed by both Cutting Edge (because of the purpose it served in the storyline and the characters) and Worthless (because it just sounded so fricking good). My third favourite character is one of the main crew, Lampy. He's an idiot... like me!

2. Movies: Cars (2006) & Cars 2 (2011)

Before The Brave Little Toaster, I had Cars to be a huge fan of. The first movie along with The Brave Little Toaster definitely made up for the majority of my early childhood. I'm so glad I got to grow up with the both of them. Even not so long ago, I had a whole Cars phase again. And my room is still full of Cars merch to this day. Like, for example, I occasionally still use my Cars bedsheets (got four in total now: two from the first movie, two from the second), my old Cars curtains still sway, I hang up a Cars 2 poster on the wall a while back and put Cars 3 window stickers on the window's glass. Because I didn't get much toys when I was young, I bought all my favourite characters' diecasts at a later age - because I still desired so. Mostly from Cars 2, by the way, because whereas Cars was my childhood, Cars 2 is my all-time favourite from the franchise. I know it has its flaws and it may be complicated for a little kid to follow, but that's once again a thing I particularly loved about this movie. I enjoyed it not one, not two, no, THREE TIMES; finding out new things about the movie with every watch. Cars and Cars 2 are just really different and have their own, unique aspects. For me, a dark story lover, Cars 2 was closer to my interests (and I also often adore bad guy characters, which the second movie had a lot of), but I give both movies equal credit for making up different segments of my childhood, no, my life.

My love for these two movies is definitely big and I will forever be grateful that they exist. I've seen them both multiple times as well.

Oh yes, I almost forgot: The director of the first two Cars movies is John Lasseter and when I found out he also worked on the making of The Brave Little Toaster I was completely astounded and flabbergasted! This man basically created my entire childhood! What!

Ain't no way he doesn't have the same obsession as me. Hahahaha.

Thank you, John Lasseter.

3. Movie: The Lift (1983)

I still remember the exact conversation I had with my dad years back when he first mentioned this movie. We talked about certain sound effects used in horror movies and I asked for the name of the scene's movie - to find out it starred the elevator as the main antagonist. Absolutely beautiful. I had loved elevators before it (I used to go to the hospital for an illness occassionally and always enjoyed using the elevator - it was like a mini adventure to me), but after discovering this movie, I loved the machines even more. Mechanical machines are cool in general, but elevators are definitely one of my favourites.

Always has been that way. Always will be that way.

It's in my top 3 favourite horror movies of all time for sure as well.

But yeah, this movie is just SO GOOD. HOW DID THEY EVEN COME UP WITH THIS IDEA?! BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, IT WORKS SO WELL. Look, I just love it when people make movies that are set in a confined space. Examples of this are Exam (2009), Devil (2010), Room (2015) and Oxygen (2019). I love such movies and they quickly become favourites, because - if done correctly - the creators use limited resources and yet, they are able to take EVERYTHING out of it and make a SPECTACULAR story. Limitations often lead to better stories, I feel like, because you can't just do any random thing and ruin everything. You have to think to make it work. Think hard, think a lot and then you come up with the most clever solution and then you have a good story. The Lift gives me similar vibes. An elevator IS a confined, stuck-in-place contraption. It can't be moved. Even with Christine, you have more options, because a car CAN move. And still, the director made it work. AND REALISTICALLY, TOO.

That's the major reason why I also prefer the original to the remake. Every death is a (near) plausible death an elevator can cause. And I found it extremely smart that one death was off-screen, not disclosing there to be an unrealistic kill, while still adding another unique kill. Another way in which the movie was realistic, was the way the elevator came to life. Not some ghoul, like a deceased person or a demon. Nah, the director made a movie too good for such a cheesy entity to be the antagonist. [SPOILER ALERT] The elevator came to life because of a biochip, which makes the movie kind of science-fiction-like, but in a fantasy-like way. Nowadays, we often speak about AI turning their back on us and taking over the world, right? Well, it seems like Dick Maas was ahead of his time! Awesome.

My favourite scenes where the beheading scene (most graphic scene) and the scene with the little girl (most ominous scene).

I've been to the building in which this was filmed just a while ago, by the way. It's a building called Kronenstede in Amstelveen. A company named Nest is established there now and the interior changed completely. Heck, they even painted the elevators grey now and there's two elevators opposite two other elevators. I was not exactly sure which one was the middle one, but one of them must have been the middle one from the movie, so I made sure I used the ones that were possibly the right elevator. The most surreal part was the building itself, though, because the outer looked remained the same. It was a truly amazing experience for me to stand in front of it at last.

4. TV series: Chalkzone (2002-2009)

It was difficult to choose between The Lift and Chalkzone which one was MOST DESERVING of third place, but because I have been a fan of the Lift more intensely for a longer period of time, unfortunately, Chalkzone had to take fourth spot. HOWEVER, if someone were to ask me "what was your most favourite TV series ever" it would be CHALKZONE (and Spongebob, but I used to be a fan of Chalkzone more fiercely - especially when I was still a kid). This series was just SO FUN to me. It resonated with me in the way that it was all about drawing (my oldest hobby) and all about fantasy worlds (which I've created plenty of) AND SOMEONE'S CHARACTERS COMING TO LIFE (which I have dreamed of ever since I can remember). The characters were adorable, too, and the adventures were incredible.

I think it was only later on that I actively realized the characters I love most are inanimate object characters specifically, but yeah, even then, the episodes which I kept remembering until I found the show again (because for a long time, I had no place to revisit the show again), were the ones about the singing toilet and the hamburger. And somehow, even that window character (recall from the Chalkzone post I posted prior to this one) - I had remembered him the entire time as well despite being the most minor character ever.

Now I don't know if I got to know Cars first or Chalkzone, but regardless of the answer, my object obsession had clearly always been there. It's also an unsolved mystery to me myself, really.

5. TV series: Jammers (2005-2011)

Now I simply HAD TO put Jammers as the final shout-out of this favourites list, because it proably was my first ever show featuring inanimate object characters. That drum's line (Dutch: "Je mag me slaan, ik ben je moeder niet" & English translation: "You may hit me, I'm not your mother") had kind of remained a meme among me and my family members, so I had never completely forgot about the series, but I did forget what the series was called for years, until about four years ago, I found it again. The toddler nostalgia was real.

--

HONOURABLE MENTIONS:

Planes 2 (2014), because it's related to Cars and also splendid. So much better than the first Planes movie. And I absolutely love how it was dedicated to real firemen. Such an exciting, cool movie.

Spongebob Squarepants: Krusty Kleaners (2018) appliances/hardware & Paper Mario: The Origami King (2020) Legion of Stationary members, because I felt like those characters were explicitely made for my eyes to see. (I also have had a whole LoS phase, even though to this day, haven't played the game yet.)

Solarballs (2022-), because I currently follow the series still. And again, I felt like it was made explicitely for me, because I always wished there was a series about the planets (space is fascinating to me) and suddenly, there was one. One that's good in every way.

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

For the relationship prompt, which interactions or friendship do you think affected Robin the most ?

Send my muse anons about their relationships. ANON ASK

Oh man, I'm going to have to answer this one as a mun because this changes a lot depending on where in the timeline you're asking. There's also A LOT of muses that Robin has interacted with! Please note that for this I will be mostly sticking to threads/interactions that have been developed in writing, almost all of Robin's relations have had an influence on him, but as for MOST--It'll be things me and the mun have developed/written together. I assume you mean in general but even that is a loaded question, so I'll be breaking this up into specific parts of his life or AUs because I do consider those quintessential for helping me as a mun develop him. (I will NOT be discussing Abel or Bel in this post as it is WAY too much and I could write a novel on their relationship. If you all would want this explained in a separate post, just let me know because it is extremely extensive).This is going to be LONG FYI, there's no way I could condense all of the wonderful relations Robin has made. So! Lets get this long post GOING!

POST-DEATH CANON VERSE:

Who would have thought being a revived corpse wandering for 2 straight years within Ionia would bring so many people into his life? One of the first and immensely influential relationships he had was when he left Ionia to travel to Bilgewater during the Harrowing, where he met Akio (@aquatic-hybrid) by coincidence, and the two worked together to clear the docks of the lost souls traveling from the Shadow Isles. Their relationships started off suspicious and unsure, but has led to one of the warmest, sweetest friendships Robin has had in a long time. It's a little stupid, but Akio gets hurt a lot and Robin has really been able to reconnect with the magic he's actually good at by healing him. Akio has pushed him over and over to be a better person, he hasn't asked too much about his past...and he just...accepts him. Robin really loves Akio as if he were his own brother, one of the people he truly feels at home with.

Another relationship that has humanized Robin is his friendship with Noelle (@songofsilentechoes), something about her kind nature just immediately drew him in and sparked his urge to protect her. This is one of those relationships that started off quite well and only got better as time passed; there was no judgement between the two of them and Noelle, like Akio, simply accepted him as he is. They meet together often for tea and a weekly book club where they read together and chit chat about life, Noelle's travels, any advice she might need in regards to magic etc. She is an extremely sympathetic and nice person--genuine to the point that Robin lowered his walls quite quickly with her, and now considers her close to his heart. This influence was much more passive on her end, as her own curiosity in terms of magic has reignited Robin's love of learning. He wants to be someone she can depend on, and be better. Side note: Bel actually finds Noelle VERY charming, it knows she won't harm Robin and has decided that she's worth protecting to keep its food happy.

Something more recent in terms of interactions falls to Lee SIn (@ionianelder), where Robin's fears and lies for himself have just melted away. Where Akio and Noelle fall into friends, equals and even students of magic, Lee Sin falls into a category that Robin has desperately needed since he was younger; a mentor. His memories of other figures like this are jumbled at best and lost at worst, but Lee Sin is one of the first to truly connect with him emotionally and tell him, from the heart, that he will be okay and get through this torment. Robin sort of...broke when he met Lee, granted he was already on his way to the edge of the plateau but the monk really pushed him over the edge and now he's hanging on desperately--when in reality he needs to just...let go. Lee Sin, although it hasn't happened yet, is going to really help Robin drop the past pain he's carried with him. It'll be a very good change, Robin may even learn to forgive himself.

Another one, man this is really never ending Robin stop meeting people, is Sett...Oh Sett, angry, traumatized, pained Sett (@pitgritted). This interaction definitely takes place a bit more in the future once Robin has left his burrow and is ready to speak with people again, and he found himself working as the chief medical staff for the pit fighters. This is another case of "he can practice healing magic for its original intended purpose" and has become a mentor figure to the younger, less experienced staff members. Not only this but his actual connection to Sett himself is an immensely interesting study into how people suffer the consequences of causing trauma, not just experiencing it themselves. Jojo and I have spoken in length about how they both have toxic qualities that bleed into their everyday lives, but they are trying so hard to dampen the harshness of these affects. Sett who can't use physical intimidation on Robin, and Robin who can't use emotional manipulation on Sett--because they do genuinely care for the other and don't want to scare/hurt them. There is, well, a certain peace I think that they feel with eachother--there is no antipathy for what the other has done, no need to "fix" the other, after all what hypocrisy would that be? It is an equally terrifying and comforting feeling to see a reflected inversion of yourself within another person, to want to be there for them but also knowing that they are acutely aware of your shortcomings because they, too, experience them. Robin has remarked, not outloud of course, that Sett's heart is fragile, I'm not sure Sett would ever be able to defend that from Robin; how could he when he sees the same fragility within the mage? They're very sweet. It'll be a very confounding, yet satisfying, arc in their lives, I'm sure.

In another timeline, something I call the bad ending (where Robin does heal but ends up falling into bad habits again), he actually has a quite captivating relationship with Jhin (@curtain-cxll). This also takes place moreso in the future, but where Robin has stayed in his burrow and has not abandoned it yet. Although the thread is just taking its first steps, Raven and I have plotted that it will fall into a game of cat and mouse that is intellectually stimulating for both Jhin and Robin. And also...something else happened by accident. Once again these two do not try to "fix" one another, but rather nurture what life has molded them into. From their first meeting there was a strange predilection that invaded both of them, I honestly think this is what made them want to burrow inside of the other one--its rare to find someone you instantly spark with (romantically or otherwise). Jhin really allows Robin to open up in terms of accepting the darker parts of himself, a part of him he will never fully get rid of, a specific toxicity Jhin can play off of, he just...accepts this part of him, and continues to encourage Robin's interests and it is shockingly quite sweet. This isn't to say Jhin is immune either, how he has craved someone who will not mock his ideas and actually listen to what he has to say, he is still human after all--and holds all of the insecurities of one. Even though the beginning is majority manipulation, Robin's reverence and appreciation of Jhin's thoughts is just intoxicating. "It isnt time yet, after all, I'd prefer my performance to be a duet." has me by the throat, the one person that has ever valued him in the same light that he values them. As art, as beauty despite all of his faults. Hell we've even discussed them living and traveling together. It's very much crafted around the poem of "Life and Death are lovers", and as a mun I really wasn't expecting to plot such a...weirdly pleasant story about self love with these two, both souls lost in solitude finding solace in one another. With a lot of murder on the side, of course. Side note: Bel and Jhin actually get along quite well too--it's very very funny to me. Bel legit gives him advice--best wingman. The demon will eventually also decide to protect Jhin as a way to keep its food safe--lord have mercy upon Runeterra.

MODERN VERSE

Oh Miss Evelynn (@agonizedembrace) do you even know how much you've shifted the course of his life? Modern verse is a...weird one, I originally wasn't planning on having Robin be a reincarnation but it led to so much deliciousness I can't imagine it any other way. For Evelynn, this is the second time their souls have met, but now she truly understands what it means to care and even love, and what she was not able to recognize within the long ago past. As such, when she meets Robin again, she makes the rather emotional instantaneous decision to pseudo-adopt him into KDA and her other nefarious activities. She wants to keep him safe, perhaps due to past guilt of not being able to save his life before, and actively funds not only his life, but is emotionally invested in him, even if he doesn't remember her. Robin's family is still alive in this verse, and he can't deny that Evelynn has become part of his family within his own heart, he adores her and considers her one of his closest friends, despite the fact that she is his boss. He feels an exceptional depth of emotion towards her that he cannot explain, perhaps he will never be able to explain why he trusts her so much, why he knows almost instantly that he loves her, and that she, despite not showing it, loves him. I think this relationship captures the essence of how love transcends time and never truly leaves our souls, it is like a stain--impossible to scrub away no matter how roughly we scrub and bleach and try to erase. It is apart of us-- forever, even if we did not categorize it as love at the time, and affects us from that moment onward. Their interactions in Modern verse show what could have been if life had been kinder, if they had understood how to feel properly when they first met, a second chance to embrace and love and cry and feel so much more than they ever thought possible within their own lives. I think they are two souls that will continue to find eachother over and over again, they are sure to follow one another...maybe even after the sun burns out.

There are certain relationships that just...help one shed the stresses of life and expectations, and Robin finds that relaxation within Danny (@bells-of-black-sunday). In this timeline Robin has less so fallen into a dark pit, and moreso walked into it willingly, and this allows him to fall for someone who is by no means a good person--but makes him laugh and smile and is healthy for him. In all verses, but specifically Modern, Robin is stressed out beyond belief, he is constantly working, constantly trying to be the best WITHIN his work, and has a very difficult time accepting himself as he is. He's a very lonely mind often plagued with delusions of imposter syndrome and never feeling very good about himself--and Danny has this uncanny ability to just make him feel at ease and help wipe that all away. Perhaps it is his casual nature, his ability to just...speak how he feels and be honest with Robin about things, but coming home feels like letting 50lbs off of his shoulders. He can enjoy a quiet, simple little life with his boyfriend who, unknowingly, erases the thoughts of "never being enough" by confirming and showing how much he loves him, as he is, and that he actively wants him in his life. They know what the other does, what evil deeds they perform, and openly communicate that it doesn't matter--their desire for the other doesn't have an expiration date. Danny shows Robin how to enjoy life's simple pleasures, and Robin returns that in the affection Danny craves. Their communication methods have also influenced Robin immensely, he doesn't have to worry about arguing with Danny or being imperfect, since they tackle disagreements as a team. It's really healthy for Robin, and has taught him a lot of self love.

PRE-DEATH ROBIN: ACADEMIA DAYS

I've left this one for last because where it is heading is still a huge coin toss and it is exceedingly exciting to divert from Robin's pre-established canon. While the thread is also in its baby steps, I already know that Viktor, Silco, and Jinx (@misstantabismuses) are going to steer Robin's storyline in a completely different direction than was previously explored. It's a blank slate with a version of Robin that hasn't full let himself descend into wickedness. I've often stated that Robin just needed one person to walk beside him in his darkest hours, and maybe he would have actually healed when he needed to, and Abel is pushing him to open up to Viktor. He feels comfortable around the surgeon, and wants to bond with him since he does admire him quite a bit. Who knows if this will be good for him? Who knows if he won't follow the Machine Herald down into Zaun's depths? How will this jump into darkness be different? I can't help but feel that Viktor's own empathy for people will rub off on Robin, he may fall into using "good" magic way sooner than anticipated. I'm rubbing my evil little fly hands in anticipation. Silco and Jinx will most likely affect him in a negative way, although I can't say for certain because there's so much to explore. It's been revealed that Robin has an accidental saviour complex towards Jinx as well since he sees himself in her, so that's a whole other can of worms to dive into and explore. While not much has happened in terms of threads, I KNOW this is going to drastically influence him in this timeline, and man oh man is it going to be a FUN exploration since Miss T is exceptional at writing and plotting. A "what if" timeline that will probably end up affecting his timeline with specific parts.

If your muse wasn't mentioned here, and you want to know more about how they've affected Robin, feel free to drop into my inbox and ask! I had to forcibly stop myself from writing more since this was already getting exceptionally long, LOL. He has had MANY interactions and it would be impossible to list them all here, so feel free to pop in if you want more info!

[tathrin]

🎨 + 🤲

From this ask meme. (I know you asked these last night, I'm sorry for running out of time to answer them before. I hope you didn't worry that you'd been forgotten!)

These are the last asks in my inbox so if I haven't answered yours yet, then they have been lost/forgotten sorry please resend.

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

I WOULD ASCEND BODILY INTO A HEAVEN I DON'T EVEN BELIEVE IN IF SOMEONE DREW FANART BASED ON ONE OF MY STORIES OH MY GODS. Ahem I'm fine, very chill, nbd. Fanart is awesome.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

I'm going to combine this with another ask and answer them both together since they touch on the same topic:

So @katajainen has gotten me thinking about zombies in Middle-earth courtesy these amazingly awful fics here, and now I find myself lost deep down a world building rabbit hole (inspired also by @roselightfairy and @deheerkonijn's incredible Modern LotR AU) for a Modernized High Fantasy Zombie Apocalypse story and setting. Here's a bit of it.

The sound of the engine, which has been their steady accompaniment for so many hours now that it feels like the rumble of it must be baked all the way into their bones, finally fades. The silence that follows is so strong that it almost rings, feeling somehow louder than the engine for a moment.

Then it is broken by two car doors opening and closing, and the heavy stomp of dwarven boots across rough ground.

"Ahhh!" Gimli says, holding his arms up over his head and stretching all the way up onto his toes before bending over and grabbing for his ankles. His spine crackles in relief. "That feels good!"

"Don't go tumbling head-over-heels and rolling back down the mountain, now," Glóin chides him teasingly.

Gimli rolls his eyes and stomps off into the brush that lines the overgrown road for a few moments of very specific privacy. Behind him, his father snorts into his beard and then goes groping for a handkerchief. Dwarves are not people of sunlight and trees, and the pollen of so many plants is making his nose drip.

That doesn't mean that Glóin can't appreciate the view a little, as he turns to look back down over the land behind them. From this point of the High Pass, he can see great fields of green and brown stretching out behind him. Sunlight sparkles off the curve of distant rivers, and birds that he cannot name twitter in the sparse trees that dot the steep mountain earth around him. This is not a place for dwarves, outside in the sun with nothing around but green plants and feathered, flying things; but it is still a mountain, even if they stand on the outside of it rather than within. It is still a good place, in its own way, even if it is not a dwarven one, and Glóin takes a few minutes to appreciate the sights around him.

Also it is nice simply to be out of the car for a little. Glóin always thought the seats of the [DWARVEN CAR MAKE] to be the epitome of comfort, but after three days of being crammed into one as the car jolts and bounces its way up an unpaved mountain road, he is beginning to revise that opinion. Like Gimli, Glóin stretches out his stiff muscles a little, but he does not have his son's enthusiasm—nor his youthful flexibility. He contents himself with smaller motions, working the bones and joints as much as anything. Even dwarven bodies, which are stiff and stony by nature, can become uncomfortably rigid after too long confined in one tight space, and it feels good to ease that stillness and get the blood flowing again.

Glóin groans happily as he sinks down onto the warm bumper of the car, luxuriating in the feeling of stretching his legs out before him without pedals to interfere or the press of a belt across his chest to draw him back. He listens to the crackling sounds of Gimli stomping through the brush, at this point finished with his moment of privacy and now just giving his blood a chance to wake up too. Glóin glances over and sees his son shooting glances over the edge of the mountain, clearly also taking a moment to enjoy the view, and he smiles and ducks his head before Gimli sees him watching and accuses him of getting sappy.

Gimli is too young to understand, but he will someday. Sappiness is an inevitable side-effect of fatherhood, and not something that any dwarf stands much chance of resisting in the end.

He scratches absently at the bandage that sticks out past the end of his rolled-up sleeve and lets himself wonder what being a grandfather will be like. The day is many years away of course, if it should come at all; but out here in the warm sun with the air blowing past crisp and clean on the side of a high mountain, it is a nice thing to contemplate. Certainly better than the ugly plague they left behind in Erebor, the grim knowledge that cannot be forgotten and which drives the urgency of their travel.

Glóin catches himself scratching harder and makes a face into his beard. The itching is a good sign, he knows, a sign that the wound below is healing; still, that knowledge does not make the itching pleasant. With a sigh, he pulls his hand away before he can dislodge the soft white cotton or do some damage to the oozing scabs that lie concealed beneath.

He still can't believe Kili bit him when he went to hug his poor, feverish nephew goodbye.

Glóin sniffles and curses the pollen all around them. He wipes his nose again as he hears Gimli laugh. "You all right, da?" his son calls from the other side of the car.

Glóin looks down at the handkerchief in his hand and feels a chill run up his bones suddenly, despite the warmth of the sun overhead. "Fine," Glóin barks, staring at the spots of blood on the pale cloth. "Just a bit stuffy from all this damned greenery."

Gimli chuckles and returns to whatever he was doing before—more stretching, Glóin thinks absently, from the sounds of soft grunting and shifting cloth—and Glóin shoves the bloody handkerchief deep into the pocket of his jacket. He shivers, despite the warmth of the day.

"All right, time's wasting," he declares, taking care to make his voice as cheery and boisterous as though he were calling a crowd in for a feast. He shoves himself to his feet and unrolls the sleeves of his jacket against the sudden chill. "We aren't out here to sight-see, after all," Glóin says, and is abruptly reminded of the sight of Dori coughing into that bloody handkerchief of his back in the dim and empty council chambers. Is he well again by now, or has he succumbed like so many have to the disease, to be lying even now in a feverish stupor in a bed lined with chains in the increasingly-crowded hospital rooms? Are the dwarves they have left behind getting better on their own, or are they still getting worse?

Has anyone died yet?

Glóin shivers again and pulls his jacket tighter, buttoning it up high beneath his beard. As anxious as their hurried trip has been so far, he feels more than ever now that they are running out of time. "Back in the car," he orders.

Gimli grumbles good-naturedly, but he doesn't hesitate. He understands the urgency of their journey too, after all. He walks back to the car, taking the chance to stretch his arms up over his head and tug at them one last time before climbing back inside. His shoulders protest the movement but they revel in it, too, and some of the ache of travel lifts from his muscles.

Glóin's aches do not lessen. The stone of his bones is too old, the boulder of his heart too heavy. "In fact," he says slowly, "why don't you take the wheel for a while."

Gimli freezes with his hand on the door. "Da," he says, "are you talking pyrite?"

"No." Glóin shakes his head. He tosses the keys to Gimli. "Go on, if you're going to."

"But you hate my driving," Gimli says, even as he hurries to the other side of the car and slides into the driver's seat before his father can change his mind.

"Eh, well," Glóin shrugs. "Nobody else on the road all the way out here, is there? What better time for you to drive."

"Da," Gimli groans, "that was one time and I was barely sixty. I'm not going to hit anything now."

"Certainly not if you don't get moving," Glóin says mildly.

Gimli curses him affectionately and starts the engine. As the car rumbles off up the mountain pass, Glóin turns his face to the window and discreetly wipes his nose again.

His hand comes away bloody.

[demonscantgothere]

I dont know if you are still doing this but for the question game

3, 4 Litost, 6 Litost, 17, 24 Litost, 26, 34, 41, 47 Litost, 49, and 50.

In case it wasn't obvious, I love Litost. Thank you so much for the absolute gift from the heavens that is that fic.

Oh wow, you have really made my day with that! Thank you so much!!! I don't think anyone's ever called Litost a gift from the heavens yet, so oh my God, I think this one is gonna stick with me for a minute!!! 😭❤️

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

. . . Alternate Universe, preferably canon divergence. Sharing a bed. Lots of hand touching. Face touching with hands. Hand porn is a thing. Angst. Lots of angst. Kidnapping tropes. Hate to love or Love/Hate being two sides of the same coin. The opposite of love is apathy, Galadriel, and you are not good at it.

4. What detail in [Litost] are you really proud of?

“I would comfort you,” he whispered, such sorrow in his own voice. “But it would only repulse you.”

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [Litost] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

So, Theo and Valandil have rings of power, but . . . there are others who have had them much, much longer. 😈

24. Are there any easter eggs in [Litost], and if so, what are they?

I don't think so unless callbacks to canon count. Galadriel's circlet that Halbrand makes her is the one from The Hobbit movies. The description of Theo's ring is based on one of the Dwarven rings from the original trilogy. In a future chapter there will be canonical name drops and inclusions of characters from Tolkien's works that haven't shown up yet. Also more callbacks to the original trilogy.

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

No dialogue. If I read something with only dialogue, I'd lose my mind, haha. I'd rather read action with silence.

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?

Occasional experiences here or there.

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

With every update to The Lesser of Two Evils, I often feel this way about Thrill of Hope's fic, though she is going to think I am pulling her chain by saying that. Her writing is exquisite to me.

47. If [Litost] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes.

Lol, I have no idea!

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

A sequel to The Greatest Slavery.

The golden leaves on the edge of Lothlórien faded away to a world of green as the carriage bumbled along the path. Celebrían cast her gaze upward to the top of the canopy of mingling shades, her own eyes a reflection of them—green but golden amber in the center. Her eyes drew forth much attention in Lothlórien, for Elves were known to have grey eyes or blue, but never green or amber. Often, it caused her to cast her gaze downward to avoid the stares. Too many of them, so many eyes, and all of them blue or grey.

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

Trying to pick what to write tonight! I have multiple projects and no idea where I want to start! I've got the next chapter of Litost, of course, continuations of The Greatest Slavery and Eyes Closed, unnamed one shots sitting on the backburner, the next chapter of Beasts (which I think I'm waiting for Litost to be finished first, anyway), and then the finale installment for Dark, Dark My Light.

. . . I have no idea where to start.

[dyrewrites]

Pale Blood - Five

&lt;- <<

Delmas was right about the bed not being big enough for two but, to his surprise, Den didn’t want to be two when the fun had ended. When Delmas pulled away and made to stand, to collect the clothes scattered on the floor, Den set those strong hands on him. He yanked him back to the mattress, wriggling with him tight in his arms until they were both beneath the sheets.

“Oh no, I’m not done with you yet,” Den explained as he climbed over and settled into the small space in front of Delmas. “It would be a crime to waste such a cuddly physique.”

Delmas stared at the mess of hair splayed across his chest and into the smiling face it belonged to but the words and the actions refused to connect, “you want to cuddle?”

“You make a perfect big spoon,” Den said, pulling away enough to gather his hair into a more convenient position.

“Oh, do I,” Delmas stated more than asked and Den laughed, short and quiet as he wriggled closer. It was an intimate gesture, which wasn’t something that happened, at least not to Delmas. When he sought the distraction of another it was rough, anonymous and detached. It was an unspoken agreement for a one time engagement. That was the whole point. To forget the day, to let go of the worries carried, not pick up more. What Den suggested with his tone, with his body language—with his soft cooing and the gentle way he snuggled closer and arranged Delmas’ arms around his shoulders—was a desire for more. A desire he did not reflect but the closeness was comforting. “Alright,” He conceded, “I guess we can cuddle.”

Den giggled, pressing closer and sending shivers through them both. The heat of his skin, and the steady pulse beneath it, bubbled the next into a hungry wave and Delmas wrapped his arms tighter and edged closer.

“Cuddle,” Den repeated, but there was a purr beneath it and a wiggle in his hips.

Delmas considered chasing that wiggle with one of his own, of whispering for more but he hesitated. Someone to hold so close, so quiet, may not have been what he’d wanted when he carried Den to the room but in that embrace he found the want for it—the need. Den fit so well in his arms, so easy to hold. He was warm, he was comfortable and Delmas closed his eyes and curled tighter around him. He hadn’t realized how tired he’d been, but that closeness drew it out and the comfort melted the tension still lingering in his muscles.

“See, perfect big spoon,” Den whispered and it was Delmas’ turn to giggle, sleepy and quiet. As the big fang drifted off to sleep, filling Den’s ears and puffing his scalp with hot breath and gentle snores, he considered what he’d signaled by making him stay. What message it sent and what consequences might come of it. 

Sure, he’s cute and fun and deliciously generous but is this too far, too fast? He worried. He’d intended to meet him, to feel things out…to lead him upstairs, tear off his clothes and climb him like the mountain he is—and hey, three out of five’s not bad.

The cuddling, however, had been an afterthought—one that surprised him as much as Delmas. All he wanted when he burst into Luster at dawn, wounded and seething, was to take it out on someone else. Someone big, to match the size of a problem he couldn’t fix, a problem he was forbidden to speak against...until he saw the fang.

A fang he had seen before, even if he hadn’t seen him.

Earlier that halfnight he had learned that his younger brother, responsible for running hearts for the pack, had begun taking jobs on the side. They were also for the pack, for the family, but they weren’t for the good of anyone. Their mother—the wolfmother—had asked all her pups for something she had never wanted before; Blood. Not any blood either, she wanted what the fangs were fetching. She said it was special, that the blood from the leechpit was stronger than even the hearts they bought off the local morgue. It shimmered, she’d said. One of her dogs—fangs enthralled by so many sips from her veins that they took on wolf-like qualities—had brought a bag with him on their last rendezvous, and it showed her things. Majestic things in colors she’d never known and she demanded more. 

Den assumed it was fae-blood, or tainted with hit, and refused to be a drug mule for his mother. Seven of his eight brothers and sisters refused as well, all but the youngest; lucky number nine. 

Nash would break the world for mama, Den fumed, and he just might. Delmas made for a welcome distraction, and the comfort of his embrace was euphoric, but Den still worried. In the muffled quiet of the waking city outside their sweaty sanctum, he fretted for the future of his pack, of the slums and maybe…the whole city. 

The wolves had a no interference deal with the fangs, which was thinning from how often the wolfmother lured and broke their supple bodies in her bed—Den labeled it addiction, and spurned her many partners, despite their similar tastes. Stealing blood could only lead to a war none were prepared to fight. An opinion Den shared, in tones louder than he should have, which earned his mother’s teeth in his neck and claws through his chest.

The wolfmother didn’t suffer defiance in her pups and, though she allowed Den to live, she sent dogs to watch him. They were instructed to ensure he didn’t defy her in more ways, like sharing her intentions with the leechpit. 

And this was precisely what he did.

It was easy enough to plant scents to confuse them—their noses were still fang noses, after all—and when he lost them, he sought one of the leechpit’s bloodletters. The dayshift reeked of thralls, useless beyond their master’s instruction, and so Den trailed the one that worked halfnights. The scent of her witchblood kept him at a distance, hidden as he couldn’t know how she’d respond to a massive halfbeast—no matter how polite—but it didn’t stick. He needed information, witch or not, and so he made to intercept her as she left her apartment…but she wasn’t there. 

By the time Den found her, the dogs had too. They had followed his scent to her and, instead of doing the sensible thing of reporting to mother, used it as an opportunity to get the blood and impress their mistress. 

 I was across the street, Den recalled, nuzzling into Delmas’ arms, close enough to watch them drag her into the alley but I didn’t get the chance to intervene…because you showed up. 

Den had watched the cab, hid his laughter at the wail of the dogs and stared as the fang ducked out of the car. He couldn’t see his face, but his scent reached him. There was a certain chill to the scent of fangs but that one carried more. It was earthy and sweet, closer to the aroma of the Wylds and Den wanted to chase it, to breathe it deeper but the chance had passed. The fang led the witch into the cab, with a concern too bare for Den’s tastes, and he retreated into the growing cool of halfnight.

But that halfnight wasn’t through picking on him. The wolfmother’s disappointment dripped through his netlink.  Through her snarled and growled reprimands Den learned that, while he trailed the bloodletter, the dogs had trailed him. He never lost them; they allowed him to escape, intending to attack the witch with or without his scent as lure. Den would be beaten again before sunrise, for his attempt to go against his mother, but no more dogs would shadow him—she didn’t want to lose any more of her pets.

It was pure coincidence that he ran into the same fang that saved the witch, the same scent that captivated him—after an hour or more of licking his wounds in Luster—but Den didn’t believe in coincidence. He was certain there was a reason why the first fang he’d seen in that club for Mother Night knows how many sunrises was the same that chased his spies off. That the fang wanted him back was confirmation. 

Kismet, Den swooned as the weight of that halfnight, and their acrobatic meeting, crashed against his muscles. Thanks to Delmas, he would have the chance to speak to the witch again and find out what was so special about the blood she peddled that it could enthrall the wolfmother. Until then, however, Den was content to enjoy the big arms wrapped around him. He could revel in the afterglow of what they shared and the luck that the fang who saved his ass happened to have such a cute one of his own.

~ * ~

Now, I know this is probably becoming an annoying habit—my interjecting—like that, precisely, but I need you to bear with me. This isn’t an easy tale to tell. There’s a lot of moving parts and knowing everything, everywhere, in every time at the exact same time…it’s overwhelming—confusing—asinine. 

I know what they’re doing, thinking—feeling—smelling. I know it all but I can’t be too sure on the when. It could be happening then, or now, or later but it’s the same to me.

That, of course, makes it difficult to share with anyone else, or to ask for help that I can’t remember if I need—or can use. And it’s been so long, so very long, since I’ve had anyone to talk to that I…I get carried away—lonely. 

Know that something is waiting for you—me—us at the end of all this. 

We just have to get there in time, whenever that time is. 

~ * ~

Bosch’s home was not the stately manor he would have preferred—and believed he deserved—but it wasn’t stuffed into the ass-end of a run-down skyscraper either. 

He hated the city, the slums most of all, and would do about anything—and had—to be welcomed above it. To luxuriate in one of the glittering gold and silver palaces that orbited the hazy peaks of the city’s greasy monoliths…but those heights were out of reach. Instead, all his scraping and clawing had earned him was a modest swath of land just outside city borders. It was close enough to get reception from the netlink grid, and for power and water, and far enough to enjoy smog-free air. Even if it required greater protections from the suns, and was a terrible commute, it was better than any other fang from the slums could claim.

There were, however, downsides to being so close to the barrier—a magical construction meant to keep the terrors of the Wylds from seeping into the city, which meant nothing to anything smaller than a mountain or weaker than a god. 

Those downsides came in many flavors, such as the massive wolf that stood at his door. It was taller than he was, even on four legs, and snarling with eyes so orange it hurt to look at them. He knew it couldn’t speak in the form it was in, but he didn’t care. What Bosch cared about was that the damned thing was there at all; in the middle of the afternoon. At a time Bosch preferred to be in his bed, hidden from the suns.

The wolf shifted then, its bones cracked and its flesh squelched and Bosch grimaced. It was never a pretty sight, the shift, what with all that hair and teeth and stretching…everything. Even when a man stood in the wolf’s place, a fully clothed one at that—a skill Bosch attributed to the magic of Mother Night, who adored her wolf children more than her cursed fangs—he was still a wolf and Bosch didn’t want him there.

He had to lean out of his doorway, and crane his neck too high, but he told him so, “Whatever you’re sellin’, pooch, I ain’t buyin’.” Bosch slammed the door but the boot that jammed it said they weren’t done. He looked up at the monstrosity of a man and waited.

“Del,” the wolf snarled and Bosch raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The wolf grunted, “You’re the big boss, ain’t ya?”

“That depends,” Bosch said and leaned against his doorframe to keep eye contact, “whose askin’?”

“The one lookin’ for yer runner and, if I gotta find him myself, he ain’t gonna be runnin’ no more,” the wolf smiled, a smile that curled too high on his cheeks and his eyes flared brighter as he added, “you neither.”

Bosch bit his bottom lip and nodded, slow and decisive, holding the fear far from his eyes as he tapped the netlink in his ear.

000

They woke late in the afternoon, and spent more of it heating the room and breaking bedsprings—and Delmas would ride the high of riding the wolf for much too long—but there’d been breaths between to share more than sweat and teeth.

They spoke of life, of work, of family and found they shared similar complaints regarding each. After they put their pants on, to remove further temptation, Den revealed that he knew Delmas was a fang before he approached him. Delmas, in turn, revealed the same of him, though admitted he hadn’t worked it out until he pinned him. Their laughter, and the looks that followed, revealed what neither would speak—they weren’t ready for goodbyes.

Delmas curled back up into the meager bed and patted the slender space before him. Den smiled as he made to join him…and a shrill beeping interrupted. 

Delmas groaned at the clothes yet coating the floor, and the blinking red light in his coat pocket—he refused to wear the netlink but Bosch required that he keep it on him, if not in, at all times—and crawled to the edge of the bed to fish it out. 

“Yeah,” He clipped into the pin-sized device, holding it to his ear.

“There is a wolf at my door,” Bosch sneered through the link.

“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you can handle it,” Delmas couldn’t keep the grin from his voice, or the gasp at Den’s exploring fingers.

Bosch huffed, “He’s here for you.”

“Well, tell him I’m busy,” Delmas said and bit back a moan as Den nibbled his ear.

“Busy my ass, you little slut!” Bosch screeched and Den fell back, holding his ears. Delmas held the netlink at arm’s length, wincing as Bosch kept his volume, “The suns are too bright for me to put up with your shit right now. I don’t care how tight your whore’s ass is, you get down here and you deal with this fucking wolf!”

The line died and Delmas stared at the netlink until its light died too, then he stuffed the thing back in his coat. Den pulled him back by the shoulders and held him there with kisses along his neck, kisses far too sweet. 

“Your boss’ got a mouth on him,” He said, rubbing his fingers into Delmas’ shoulders. He massaged deep into Delmas’ skin, up the sides of his neck and then down along his collar bone before teasing the thin hairs on his chest.

“Mm-hmm,” Delmas moaned, grabbing Den’s hands as they began to wander too low. “And he may be a mouthy ass, but he’s also a resourceful mouthy ass…who will send his thralls after me if I don’t do what he asks.”

Den pressed closer, draping himself over Delmas’ shoulders and asked, “Want some company?” Delmas tilted his head to look into Den’s eyes, but didn’t answer the question. Den sighed, “He did say ‘wolf’, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Delmas said, and then dropped his head, “which means you might know who it is…”

“There ya go,” Den said, pushing back and patting Delmas on the back. 

When he stood to put the rest of his clothes on, Delmas followed suit—his shirt was torn at the neck, with a gouge or two in the chest, but still mostly whole and he smiled when he pulled it on—but stopped at his coat and stared. It was a nice coat; dark, thick, long enough to be dramatic when he needed to be but it had a stain. A big, ugly splotch he knew would never wash away. 

So there’s a wolf looking for me, Delmas thought, running through the previous halfnight, one high enough on the foodchain to know who Bosch is…and where to find him. “Fuck,” he said, slipping his coat on and rushing from the room. 

Den chased him, hopping to get his shoes on, and shouted, “What’s the rush, can’t your boss handle one wolf?”

“Not this one,” Delmas shouted back.

At the base of the stairs, Den caught up and asked, “You know who it is?”

Delmas didn’t answer and Den kept on his heels through the club.

It had transformed during their morning above it. Soft light pooled inside, warm and yellow-tinted. Music played over unseen speakers but it wasn’t the electronic beat and crackle of the dawn before. It was gentle, instrumental and it flourished in the comforting ambience the room commanded. The dance floor was replaced with hardwood and an elaborate rug, round tables and comfortable chairs—each topped with white cloth and hardlight candles that flickered in mockery of real flames. The bar was littered with patrons holding fat coffee mugs in varying states of emptiness and the bartender—turned barista—was fully clothed and half-hidden by steam. 

Delmas and Den weaved through the tables, avoiding the knowing looks of those seated at them.

Outside the tinted glass of the double doors, the city was blinding and Delmas fished dark glasses out of his pocket. 

“It’s Nash,” he said, once his eyes were shielded.

Den jerked and stared up at him, “My Nash?”

Delmas shrugged, “Are there a lot of giant wolves named Nash?”

“What would he want with your boss?” Den asked, shifting his gaze to the street and searching through the flood of afternoon traffic for the telltale yellows of a cab.

“You said your boss has been jonesin’ for blood and Nash is getting it for her…which he tried to do last halfnight. From me,” Delmas had not shared that part of his story when they shared all else—so close and vulnerable between the sheets—and he averted his eyes and fussed with his hair as the shame of it burned.

Den didn’t care that Delmas kept things out, he hadn’t shared everything either, too embarrassed to mention the dogs or the bloodletter witch—or that he’d wanted Delmas even then. What Den cared about was that his baby brother towered over even the giant he stood beside and bore the strength to match it, “How far is your boss?”

The cab creaked to a stop in front of them and popped its rear door up. Stale urine and sour cigarettes wafted out and Delmas cringed as he ducked in, scooting to make room for Den. 

“Too far on an empty stomach,” he said. “Leechpit down on Main,” Delmas all but groaned to the cabby as the pain in his gut twisted harder—distracting him from the familiarity of the returned voice and the sight of Bosch’s address already keyed into the vidscreen.

000

There weren’t many things that frightened Odea—witches of her bloodline were ritually purified of such weakness—but even the purring warmth of her cats could not ease the dread bubbling inside her. Despite how few words Odea allowed her, Renna had spoken terror through the netlink. And that terror refused to loosen its grip on her throat. She’d changed her room’s purple lights. Shut them off and opened the curtains to let in the faded yellows of the afternoon, but it didn’t help. Everything she passed whispered to her of Daughter Dusk, her walls all but moaned for the Goddess.

“It can’t be as bad as all that,” She told her cats as they paced with her through the small apartment. “The others would have called if it were. After all, if this Renna could find me, so could they.”

Her scars itched with renewed memory. Sharp daggers and sharper claws tore her skin and bled her veins. The scent of her Sisters bloomed then, it dragged from the recesses of her mind more hidden horrors and she shuddered. Their hands, their mouths, their heat and sweat, it jittered inside her until acid flooded her mouth and she made for the toilet. 

But they haven’t, she assured the spasms in her stomach as they begged to retch more takeout, they’d have made themselves known if they had—and her skin knew too well how they would do so.

She hadn’t done enough, she knew she hadn’t. She shielded herself against the many tricks of her Sisters, but they were ever-learning, ever-growing and she could never prepare for it all. Full-blooded witches had issues around technology, but the Sisters were unique—Daughter Dusk kept them safe, kept their practice ‘modern’—and so there were no places free of their influence.

“I can’t go back,” Odea whimpered into the metal basin, cringing at the colors her stomach had made of the chemical blues swirling inside. She ignored the furry heads pressing into her sides, lost to worry, “No matter what danger is looming, or what havoc it’s wreaking on the Wylds—on the magic—I can’t…” She wept then, adding the earthy scent of her tears to the stench of the toilet water.

It had been over a year since she fled the Sisters, and their depraved rituals, but the desire had taken root long before. Odea, as all Sisters of Daughter Dusk, held powers of protection, of knowledge but most coveted of all was their power to heal. They could steal the pain and sickness of another and take it into themselves. Daughter Dusk cared deeply for her Sisters and would ensure what ailed them did not do so for long. This made them miraculous healers but magic was an exchange and Daughter Dusk was as capricious as any fae.

What the Goddess took from Odea, that planted a seed of doubt—which sprouted too late—was her mother. 

Niamhe—or Nia, as most knew her—had been a devout Sister all her life. She practiced the rituals every night, made the pilgrimage to the Wylds for the numerous solstices to endure the rites of the Daughter directly and even devoted more of herself in halfnight when the moons fell. Nia led covens, she apprenticed young witches, she devised grander rituals to keep the Daughter relevant as Morne advanced but all Nia wanted in return, all she dared to ask of her Goddess…was a child. Nothing prevented the Sisters from reproducing—it was encouraged, in fact, as all children born of witches were witches themselves and Daughter Dusk’s greed knew no bounds—but Nia’s body would not comply. She had tried. She had laid with more men than she cared to recall in the fleeting hope of bearing a daughter. A daughter worthy of the one she worshiped.

Daughter Dusk would not grant Nia’s wish—the cost of a life would be too great and she did not waste valuable Sisters—and so Nia found another way. 

Odea’s mother told her that she met a Somite, and that she had charmed him as he found her, as he made to capture and bound her in the searing fields. Nia had spun a fanciful tale of devotion that ended in heroism and sacrifice. Her father died protecting his love, and their unborn child, from his sanctimonious brothers and Nia fled to the Wylds to live under the Daughter’s protection. —As most tales whispered to children in the low light of sleep, the one of Odea’s origins were myth; lies planted in her mother’s memory through no fault of her own…but lies all the same.

Nia would grow ill before Odea finished her initiation and was placed in a coven of her own. It was an illness they could not afford to treat, and one no witch dared try. Something in her had begun to feast on her mind, on her memory. It would move to her organs if not stopped and Odea could not stand to watch her mother deteriorate for a moment longer. She offered all she had, begged and pleaded for Daughter Dusk to take whatever she desired if only she could keep her mother. Daughter Dusk accepted her generous offer and Odea performed the ritual. 

It was one she was instructed to do alone, with none but her mother present, and she would not know the cost until it was completed—as was customary of such pacts. In days of starvation and agony Odea had her mother back, breathing and whole. Her mind was even returned, sharper than before. The disease festered in Odea for a mere week before the Daughter took it…and her payment. Odea held no interest in the act that produced a child, but she daydreamed of other methods to pass her bloodline on, to birth a daughter of her own. Methods lost when Daughter Dusk visited her in her dreams one halfnight and left her bleeding for seven after.

Yet it was not that act which turned Odea from her Goddess, or her Sisters. She accepted the cost as fair. Her mother lived, after all, and she could miss the unborn for only so long—but Daughter Dusk had been spurned, scorned, and she demanded more.

It was an accident. Odea did not see the other driver through the sudden fog—a fog it would take years to realize wasn’t natural—and she swerved when she shouldn’t have. Her mother lay, unresponsive, in a hospital bed for months before her organs gave out. It was a slow death. Slower than she knew the cancer would have been and Odea blamed herself. That blame carried her through the rigors of initiation into her mother’s coven—as it was the practice of the Sisters that an heir take the place of any lost—and through the torturous rites and spells that followed it. 

Due to the circumstances the young witch endured—though never admitting her part in them—Daughter Dusk granted Odea reprieve from her rituals. She even offered a modicum of leniency when she abandoned her mother’s coven, and all the Sisters, brief months into her service with them. 

But that time was passed. Someone had been sent to retrieve Odea. A Sister, if not one of her coven, and Daughter Dusk was not known for her patience…or her forgiveness.

Odea shuddered and retched again, gripping the bowl with the force of it—a force too great to be mere nerves—as her cats yowled their sympathies beside her. It doesn’t matter if it’s as bad as she said, she realized. If I don’t go…I’m dead.

->