#so she wears braces under her robes

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

I should really finish at least one of my fics before starting a new one, however

[moonselune]

hiya!!

could u write for that prompt u already did, with muscular woman tav, wearing a wavemother robe, but with Jaheira, Karlach, and Shadowheart? Thanks!

yesssssssssssssssss this was so fun to write!

Karlach:

You take a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silken fabric of the Wavemother’s Robe, feeling a little ridiculous. The garment is light, flowing, and drapes over your frame in a way that feels almost foreign. You’ve never worn something so delicate before—so soft, so utterly not made for someone like you.

You glance at yourself in the small mirror shard you keep in your tent. The robe barely reaches past your knees, and with your broad shoulders and powerful frame, it seems like it should be out of place on you. Yet… it isn't ugly. Just different.

Still, you can’t shake the nagging thought in the back of your head—what if it looks wrong? What if Karlach sees you and—

You shake the thought away and step out of your tent. The second you do, Karlach freezes. You blink at her, confused. She was mid-step, having clearly been about to approach, but now she just stands there, staring. Her mouth is slightly open, her golden eyes locked onto you like a predator that’s just spotted prey.

And then, steam—actual, literal steam—starts rising off of her skin.

“Karlach?” you ask, feeling more self-conscious than before. “You okay?”

She makes a small, strangled noise in the back of her throat.

You frown. “Do I look stupid?”

"Stupid?" Karlach finally manages to choke out, blinking rapidly like she’s trying to reboot her entire system.

Her hands are twitching at her sides, fingers flexing like she can’t decide whether she wants to reach out and touch you or just explode where she stands.

“You—you absolute goddess.” Karlach breathes the words out in pure reverence, eyes raking over you so intensely that you actually feel hot under her gaze. "How—what—fuck.”

Your brow furrows. “You like it?”

Karlach laughs. It’s a breathless, wild thing, like she can't believe you even asked. “Like it? Babe, I am fighting for my life right now.”

You blink. “…What?”

“Do you—do you even know what you look like right now?” Karlach gestures wildly at you, practically vibrating. “You're a foot taller than me, built like a gods-damned mountain, wearing that.” She swallows hard. “Do you have any idea what that’s doing to me?”

You stare at her. Then glance down at yourself. Then back at her.

“…No?”

Karlach makes another strangled sound. Then, before you can react, she lunges. You barely have a moment to brace yourself before you’re body-tackled back into your tent, landing on your back with an "oof!"

Karlach is already crawling over you, her hands hot against your skin as she yanks at the silken fabric, her breathing ragged.

“I—I should—I should help you take this off,” she stammers, but her hands are moving before she even finishes the sentence.

You let out a stunned laugh. “That desperate, huh?”

Karlach growls, low in her throat. “Babe, I am about to combust.”

She isn’t lying—there’s actual heat radiating from her, and her engine is whining with the strain of keeping it together.

You smirk up at her, reaching up to cup her flushed face, fingers brushing over the cooling vents on her cheeks. "Guess that means I should wear this more often, huh?"

Karlach groans. "Please don’t, I will literally die."

You laugh, only for her to kiss you so fiercely that all your thoughts vanish in a haze of heat, silk, and strong hands pulling you closer.

Shadowheart:

You take a deep breath, adjusting the Wavemother’s Robe as it drapes over your body. The fabric is soft, flowing in a way that feels foreign against your battle-worn skin. It barely reaches past your knees, and the loose, delicate sleeves do nothing to hide the sheer power of your arms. You feel wrong in it—too big, too solid, too much of everything this robe wasn't made for.

With a sigh, you step out of your tent, bracing yourself for whatever reaction you’re about to get. You don’t expect to find Shadowheart completely frozen in place.

She stands a few feet away, lips slightly parted, silver eyes wide as they slowly drag down your body and then back up again, as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.

“…Shadowheart?” you say, feeling even more self-conscious.

No response.

You shift your weight slightly, watching her, and that’s when you notice—her hands are clenched into fists at her sides, white-knuckled. Her jaw has gone slack. And her knees—her knees are actually, visibly weak.

You narrow your eyes. “Are you okay?”

She finally seems to snap back to reality—only she doesn’t look at your face. No, her gaze is locked firmly lower, just slightly south of where your collarbone dips beneath the robe’s neckline.

You follow her line of sight. Then, after a pause, you slowly cross your arms over your chest. Shadowheart’s lips press together, her eyes still glued downward. You snap your fingers in front of her face.

She flinches, blinking rapidly, as if being pulled from some sort of trance. “I—uh—”

You raise an eyebrow. “Were you staring at my chest this entire time?”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Shadowheart—normally so composed, so controlled—actually flushes, a deep pink creeping up her pale cheeks. “No.”

You deadpan. “You absolutely were.”

Shadowheart clears her throat, straightening her posture in a pathetic attempt to regain dignity. “I was simply… admiring the craftsmanship of the robe.”

You narrow your eyes. “Uh-huh. The craftsmanship.”

She clears her throat again, glancing away. “Yes. The, uh… stitching is very fine.”

You take a slow step toward her, watching as her pupils dilate slightly. “You’re still staring.”

Shadowheart swallows, her voice quieter now. “Can you blame me?”

You smirk, amused by her rare flustered state. “I could if you were being a little less obvious about it.”

Shadowheart exhales sharply, her hands twitching at her sides as if she desperately wants to touch but is restraining herself. Then, after a pause, she exhales and looks up at you with something unreadable in her expression—an almost challenging glint.

“Perhaps I should be punished for my bad manners,” she murmurs, voice deceptively soft. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

You feel your smirk widen, a slow heat curling in your chest. “Oh? Is that so?”

Shadowheart tilts her head slightly, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I am but a humble servant of Shar, after all. I do enjoy a little… discipline.”

Your stomach flips, and suddenly, the insecurity you had felt earlier is a distant memory. Shadowheart isn’t just attracted to you—she’s weak for you.

And, well… maybe you can use that to your advantage.

Jaheira:

The Wavemother’s Robe feels wrong from the moment you put it on.

It’s soft, flowing, and light—too light. The way it drapes over your broad shoulders and cinches at your waist feels alien, unnatural. You tug at the fabric, scowling, adjusting the way it falls over your muscular frame, but it doesn’t help. You are a warrior. You’re built to cleave through enemies, to stand tall on the battlefield, to strike fear into those who would dare cross you. Not to wear something that makes you look like a damn priestess.

You glance at yourself in the mirror—well, as much of your reflection as you can see in the dull metal of your weapon. You could be intimidating in this, you suppose. It still shows the power in your arms, the strength in your stance. You could be some ancient warrior-goddess, draped in divinity, untouchable and terrible in your beauty.

…Or you could look ridiculous.

You exhale, shaking your head. This was a mistake. You should just take it off before anyone sees—

“Are you coming out, or are you just going to hide in there all night?”

Jaheira. You freeze, eyes widening slightly before you curse under your breath. There’s no escaping this now. Steeling yourself, you push open the flap of your tent and step out.

And Jaheira stops dead in her tracks. She had been approaching with her usual effortless confidence, arms crossed, brow raised, ready to tease you about how long you’d taken. But now?

Now she just stares.

Her mouth parts slightly, but no sound comes out. Her sharp green eyes drag over your form—slowly, like she’s cataloging every inch of you, every detail. She’s standing stiffly, her jaw tight, her fingers twitching at her sides.

You hesitate. “…Jaheira?”

Nothing. Not even a blink. She is utterly, completely frozen.

You shift, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “You’re staring.”

At that, Jaheira blinks—like she’s just remembered how to function—and immediately scowls. “I—what—no, I am not.”

You smirk. “You absolutely are.”

“I am merely—” she cuts herself off, clears her throat, then attempts again. “—merely assessing your choice in attire.”

“Uh-huh.” You tilt your head, stepping closer. “And?”

Jaheira opens her mouth, then closes it. Her lips press into a firm, thin line, like she’s physically forcing herself not to say something she’ll regret. But then—gods help her—her gaze dips again, and you can see her willpower crumbling before your eyes.

A faint flush creeps up her neck.

You raise an eyebrow. “Jaheira… are you flustered?”

Her eyes narrow. “Of course not.”

You step closer, watching as her shoulders stiffen, watching as her gaze flickers—just briefly—to the way your muscles flex beneath the fabric.

She inhales sharply through her nose.

You let out a low, satisfied chuckle. “Oh, this is fantastic.”

Jaheira groans, pinching the bridge of her nose as if physically pained. “Do not make me regret ever looking at you.”

You smirk. “A little late for that, isn’t it?”

She exhales, long and suffering, but now she refuses to meet your eyes—her pride won’t let her. Instead, she folds her arms behind her back, straightens her spine, and in the most dignified voice she can muster, says, “Well. I suppose you look… decent.”

Your grin widens. “Decent?”

She scowls. “Acceptable.”

You step even closer, lowering your voice. “Jaheira.”

She glares at you, and yet her ears have turned red. “Fine,” she snaps. “You look devastating. Now get away from me before I embarrass myself further.”

You laugh, throwing an arm around her shoulders despite her protests. “You already embarrassed yourself, my love.”

Jaheira groans into her hands, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she leans into you just the slightest bit. And if you catch her sneaking another glance at you later that night—well, you’ll let her have that small victory.

hehehe I love writing my simpy horny girls. Also idek what I was on complaining that the Lucille font had changed, clearly my mac was just having a moment. Anyway hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Supine Bound

Gale x F! Tav

18+ tension, crossed signals, embarrassment, voyeurism (m&f), masturbation (m&f), restraint, body caging, dirty talk, roughness, domGale, oral (m&f), improper use of mage hand, Gale being a menace, some silliness a lil tenderness ayo, porn w/o plot

With Tav believing she's crossed a boundary of intimacy twice with Gale, she invites the wizard to get some retribution...

Masterlist

-

"Gods, I'm not that short." Tav planted her hands on her hips, giving Gale a mock glare.

"Notice that you had to look up to give me that withering look." The warm tease in his voice making her heart flutter involuntarily.

"Should I call over Halsin to give some input?" She trilled, smiling wider at the narrow in his eyes.

"Oh pish posh," He waved his hand impassively. "That elf is an outlier. It would be academically irresponsible to include him in our data."

"Our data, huh?"

His cheeks flushed the slightest pink.

Tav raised her eyes in memory, giving a puzzled look.

"I don't even remember applying for a grant to fund our research..."

He let out a small bark of laughter, her smile curling triumphantly at making him break first.

"Oh, there is a very neat magic trick people my stature can perform. Wanna see?"

He nodded, giving her an bemused smile.

She leaned down conspiratorially, him following her down. Crouching down quickly, she angled her shoulder under his hips, standing and flipping him onto her back.

"Up you go!" She cheered, bracing the hinge of his hip with one hand. Starting to walk through camp at a jaunty pace.

He laughed loudly, a joyful burst. Going mock limp as she trotted him around their small world.

"Oh, good catch!" Karlach called through a mouthful of apple. "Wizards are slippery! Hold on tight!"

"Ew, why...?" Astarion reeled.

"Guys, I'm trying to make a delivery, do you mind?" Tav huffed, putting a hand on her waist and popping her hip out.

"Of course, of course. Boy deliveries are very time sensitive, don't want him to spoil." Karlach nodded sagely.

Gale's giggle against Tav's back making her bottom lip curl to not smile.

Astarion put down his mending with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh! Hells, I've gotta go! He's getting unruly!" Tav's voice spiking in fear as Gale kicked his feet happily.

Tav took very careful steps to the turquoise tent, the night song of insects rising in the reeds. Fire crackling low, cleared plates piled, ready to be river tended.

"And here you are." She crouched down, attempting to ease him by the waist off of her shoulder. Gale only going fully limp.

"Oh... oh! The spell!" Tav cried, letting her body slowly crumple under him. "Gravity! it's getting so heavy!"

He giggled against her as she slid into a heap on the ground. His forehead resting above her shoulder, her arms thrown above her head, staring up at the newly woken stars.

"We're just going to lay like this, huh?" She sighed.

"The spell takes a while to wear off, I'm afraid."

She smiled, letting out a contented breath with the closing of her eyes. Enjoying his weight on her and the slow calm of night for a moment. His arm naturally encircling her head, face turned into her hair. Heart fast and breath slow.

She peeked one eye open, feeling his stare.

"Yes?" She whispered in a playful lilt. Turning her head to look at him.

His wide pupils held her still. A single breath shared between them as his eyes searched her, lips fallen open. Their turned faces unreasonably close, air softened with anticipation. All she would have to do was tilt up.

The haze overrode her better judgment, and she lifted her chin. Lips sliding into his in a soft part.

Her mind caught up with her mouth, pulling back in shock. He had very kindly turned her down twice now, the second time just last night at the tielfing party.

"Oh Gods, I'm so sorry." She rose up on elbows, face heating.

His wide eyes followed her as she stood, chest radiating a gauzy purple under his robe.

"I'm- I'm gonna go." She patted her thighs anxiously. "Sorry, again."

Turning on her heel, she grimaced as she strode away from him.

Gods. Way to take it too far.

-

Tav paced in angry circles.

"Fuck Mystra."

"You're going to dig a hole in the ground." Shadowheart raised her eyebrow at her rage loop.

"The fuck is her problem?" Tav continued on, waving her arms. "It's not enough to disgrace him, exile him, then leave him to fend for himself with the fucking orb that you know how to fix! Then you ask him to detonate it? Just all casual, no biggie?"

"Darling, we all agree with you." Astarion drawled, leaning back on the log. "But do you know who isn't as convinced?"

He tipped his head towards the distant point of Gale's tent.

"Maybe spew some of that venom where it's needed."

"You're right." Tav slowed, planting her hands on her waist. Taking a huffing breath out.

"I often am." Astarion sighed, flopping back on the length of the log. "And you can convince him to come start dinner. Unless you want to be supped from early tonight."

"Oh, I could start dinner! How hard can it be?"

"Karlach, that's a very kind offer. But let's see about Gale first." Wyll encouraged.

Tav waved her hand in acknowledgment, heading towards the outer loop of camp.

She took several deep breaths, knowing that coming in hot might just dig his feet in farther. Afterall, this was a diety he had devoted his life to, of course he thinks her stupid fucking idea is founded in some wisdom.

Low pulsing violet light emanated from the seat of his closed tent. Tav bit her lip in concern, ears naturally piqued for any sounds of distress. Picking up the sound of muffled hard breathing.

Her hand hovered over the flap of his tent.

If he was suffering, would he even tell any of them?

A pained whine broke her of her apprehension, lifting the opening.

He was laid back on blankets, head angled back. The underside of his jaw, chest arched up. Hand clamped over his mouth, eyes rolled up into his head.

Her wide eyes traveled down where his velvet shirt was bunched up around his ribs. Sleep trousers pushed down to the seat of his thighs. Bare hips writhing and thrusting up into-

His head lifted and caught eyes with her.

"Ah!" She yelped, turning quickly, pressing her back to the tent wall.

She groaned quietly, doubling over and pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. A fruitless effort, that moving image was embedded for good.

"All the gods above and below, I am so sorry!" She stamped her foot, embarrassment spiking the threat of mortified tears.

There was only a low chuckle and the sounds of rearranging fabric behind her.

"It is not funny." She hissed, ducking her head around to give him an incensed glare. Getting only louder, snorting laughter.

"Cosmically? It's quite funny. Given the subject of my imagining."

Her cheeks heated at that, sure she had misconstrued his meaning.

"This has happened too many times." She sighed, shaking her head.

Ducking back around fully to level her gaze at him. "You need to get even with me."

"Even?" He gave her a confused but warm smile.

"Yes. I've got too many violations under my belt. It's your turn to do something mortifying to me."

"Interesting..." A mischievous smile spread across his face.

"Don't tell me what it is." She held her hand up preemptively. "Just decide and do it when the time is right."

"And nothing is off the table?" His eyes glinted.

"Go wild. I'll do whatever you ask."

Tav immediately wanted to walk that back, but bit the inside of her cheek.

"Excellent. And Tav..."

Her eyes met his.

"Thank you for checking on me. Truly. You're a guiding star in these dark times."

Tav's voice wavered in her throat into a muffled squeak. Giving him a nod instead.

"Goodnight, Gale."

-

It had been a tenday since their arrangement had been made, and she had fully forgotten about it. Too many events under their collective belts, battles won and grueling progress made towards overtaking Moonrise.

Everyone gathered around the fire, passing bowls and talking around full mouths. Cricket song in the tall grass. The ever-present oppressive air of the Shadowlands lessened just slightly by good company and filled bellies.

Tav had been sitting with their newest addition, Minthara. She naturally stayed back from the gathered camp, but Tav found her conversation very stimulating. She was tough but fair, giving harsh but insightful observations on anything they spoke on.

"What do you think of Gale?" Tav offered, her mortifying displays coming back in a slow creeping blush up her neck.

"The wizard?" Minthara gave that low chuckle she was prone to. "What about him should I find noteworthy? The fool hardy ambition and unconscious death wish is hardly unique to wizards of his caliber."

"Can't argue with that." Tav relented with a sigh. "He's very sweet when you give him the chance. I've grown quite fond of him."

"Yes, that has been obvious." Minthara lifted her glass to her lips, raising one eyebrow at Tav.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Tav mock huffed. Giving her a small smile.

"Why haven't you bedded him yet?"

Tav nearly spat out her food, coughing into her hand. Minthara giving her a few solid thumps on the back.

"Thats... that's hardly..."

"You don't strike me as inexperienced. But perhaps I am mistaken." Minthara mused.

"Or perhaps the wizard is. That seems likely, with the way his eyes follow you around camp."

"They do not." Tav grumbled, turning her eyes down.

"I have my own eyes, abbil." Minthara stated. "And they do not deceive me. That lovesick look is unmistakable."

She gave another low chuckle. "He's doing it right now."

Tav raised her eyes just slightly, catching Gale's in her peripheral. Whipping her eyes back towards her Drow friend. Minthara raising both eyebrows now, giving a knowing smirk.

"Either bed the wizard or put him down like a sick dog. It's a kindness to put him out of his misery."

Tav laughed, though she likely wasn't joking.

She reached out to take Minthara's empty bowl, walking up the way to the fire.

"And how was it?" Gale offered, smiling at her as she approached.

"Oh, delicious as always. You truly are magical making a meal with what we scrounge up." Tav set the two empty bowls with the others to be washed, bending over.

A hand ran from thigh up over her backside.

It was over so quickly she wasn't entirely sure she hadn't imagined it. Popping her head up and looking around in a fluster.

Gale raised a confused eyebrow. "You okay? Something bite you?"

"I'm okay, just... ah, nothing." She shook her head. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty tired, I might turn in early tonight."

Fingers trailed up the curve of her spine, splaying out across her ribs.

She spun around, finding only gnarled trees.

"You know what, maybe I will too. I might not be all there tonight." She turned back to him to level an apologetic look.

"Of course." He smiled graciously. "I'm confident you'll find rest at some point tonight."

"Here's hoping." She sighed. "Have a lovely night, Gale."

"Oh, I will." He made to walk away then paused, turning as if remembering something.

"Thank you for saying I'm sweet. I'm very fond of you too."

Tav could only nod, pink fluster reaching her cheeks.

-

Tav lay awake in her tent, the damned wizard smothering all other thought. The earnestness of his teasing reaching under her skin.

She pressed her pillow into her face and hit her heels against the ground in frustration. The pool of desire in her pelvis full, heavy and insistent.

She tossed the pillow down at her side and admitted defeat with a sigh. Hand coming down to snake under her waistband. Meeting her already piqued clit, fingers leading down in slow circles. Gathering her pooling slick up over it.

Leaning her head back, she got lost in her own touch. The rising pleasure in her body pulling her along, fingers moving to the unconscious demand. Pushing her sleep pants down to her knees, kicking them the rest of the way off. Letting out a soft moan, fingers working faster. The circling orgasm pulling tighter. All sounds and sights floating away.

Imagining his hands on her, those wide skilled hands. How they would feel climbing her body, grasping and pulling. What the stubble of his beard would feel like between her legs.

The hands splayed along her thighs, pressing them open. Her legs laying flat against her bedroll.

It wasn't until the hands inexplicably didn't dissipate inside her imagination that she opened her eyes.

Gale stared down at her, arms locked out straight, leaning down on her knees.

"Don't stop." He commanded.

"What?" She squeaked, trying to pull back to cover herself, but he wouldn't budge.

"You said I could request anything. We'll, I'm requesting that you don't stop."

She swallowed, the realization of what was about to unfold rising up her already bothered pelvis.

Leaning back, she let her hand return to her center slowly. Her embarrassment making the pleasure she pulled from herself feel even more salacious. Constraining her face in a turn of her head.

"Come now, that's hardly fair." He clicked his tongue, gently pulling her face back to center. "I've been so wanting to see you enjoying yourself."

Her eyes opened into an incredulous glare. Frustration pushing into her arousal, needling her hand faster.

"Well, you've had a funny way of showing it." She huffed.

He got quiet for a moment, then slid both knees onto the inside of her thighs. Leaning up to be level with her, balancing on forearms around her head. His weight holding her legs splayed open.

"I have wanted you so unbearably it has numbed my mind."

His warm voice pulling low into his chest, he continued.

"All of my thoughts have been encircled by you, threading through every tortuous night. My skin hungers for your touch, and no distraction I have tried has soothed the strain."

His face drew ever nearer as he spoke, shoulders lowering him down to her.

"All of your intrusions have proven to have only stoked the flame higher. Much higher."

He was breathing against her lips now, so near it made her eyes flutter up into her lids. The teasing making her feel delirious. Hips starting to writhe fruitlessly against the hold of his knees.

He looked down at her efforts, her stomach twitching in jolts. Her eyes following down, seeing the strain in his trousers above her.

"I want to touch you so terribly." He groaned, eyes lidded. "But I want you to cum first."

She bit back a moan, eyes desperate on his. Feeling like she was going blind with need, bucking her hips.

He leaned forward, cupping the side of her head as he rumbled directly into her ear.

"I cannot resist you much longer. You are so beautiful like this, it's driving me mad. Cum for me, I need you to feel you on my tongue."

She yelped out a moan, his mouth coming down to muffle hers. Her whimpers pushing into his lips. Orgasm crashing over her in high waves, swells rising up through her. He pushed her sleep shirt up to her clavicle. Leaning back to watch her ribcage rise, breasts heaving. Moaning at the sight low in his throat.

She grasped the front of his robes, pulling his face back to hers.

"I came, now please tou-"

His mouth smothered back over hers hungrily. Breathing hard through his nose, gasping against her lips. Pulling up on her waist, her thigh, his hands warm and insistent.

The pull between them was demanding, primal. Tangling and burning with need. Desire barely contained inside of bodies, ready to spill over in a boil.

She tried to reach for his sleep pants but was caught by her wrists, an unknown hand slamming them down pinned above her head.

She looked above and saw a mage hand.

"You bastard, that's what that was." She gasped out when she could get a breath in.

"It is so wonderful to tease you." He chuckled, head starting to lower down her body. Cupping her ribcage reverently as he kissed along her neck, her clavicle. Nose drawing a small circle around her nipple.

"You blush such a heavenly pink." He sighed, kissing along the underside of her breast.

She bit back a moan, coming out as a needy sqeak. Arching her ribcage up to meet his mouth.

"Gods, I want to drink you." He growled, cupping her breast and dragging his tongue up over her peak.

She writhed underneath him, wrists straining against the hand still pinning her down.

He lapped at the hard nub, flicking it with his tongue before enveloping it into his mouth. Undulating his tongue in a warm wave.

Her legs rose up into a curl, groans as quiet as she could manage leaving her. His mouth pulling pleasure from her in winding handfuls. The sensation pushing her hips down into an unconscious rocking, the ache in her pelvis her only driving force.

He cupped both breasts and ran his tongue between them, breathing labored warm air over her skin. A trail of saliva connecting the two peaks.

"Gods, Gale! Please!" She whispered, hips rising in desperation.

"No, I am taking my time with you." He stated, the mage hand tightening on her wrists. Licking up a line on the underside of her breasts, watching the flesh mold to his tongue, then bounce back into place with a satisfied groan.

He finally pulled his cock free of his trousers with a relieved breath, settling back down onto his belly. Reaching under her, taking both of her hips into his hands and pulling them flush to his mouth without warning. Tongue crashing into her clit with a vengeance.

She barely stifled the cry in her throat into a soft whimper. Hips already canting against his jaw.

One of his hands snaked around and pulled up on her pubic bone, giving him full access. Latching onto her clit and undulating his tongue in that same wave. Slurping and suckling, hand shooting out to hold her thighs open as they tried to clamp around his head.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" She whined, pelvis trying to twist away. The pleasure so intense it bordered on unbearable. His near delirious enthusiasm rising it tenfold. Grinding his hips in time on the tent floor. Staring up at her, eyes dark with intensity.

She could feel her second orgasm about to unravel her. Arms still pinned above her and legs pinned open beneath her, she had nothing to hold onto but his eyes. Hers straining up in pleasure, realization of how intense this was about to be washing over her.

She begged out under her breath.

"Oh Gods, I need you to gag me or I'm going to scre-"

The mage hand left her wrists and pushed two fingers inside her mouth.

She writhed and jerked, orgasm ripping through her. Tearing through her relentlessly, biting down on the mage fingers to silence herself. The pads of its fingers massaging her tongue while his tongue below still pulled and sucked. Bringing her higher and higher, determined to collapse her entirely. Her hips rising in the same plea to escape, his mouth only rising with her. Chasing her up the bedroll.

"Ah! Stop, stop, stop." She breathed when the overstimulation got too much, a laugh on the edge of her words. Pushing his head back gently.

"Too much?" He hushed, a twinkle in his eyes.

She nodded, body going limp. Puddled out under him, eyes glazed and struggling to focus. Head lolling while her breath tried to gather back in her chest.

He rose back up over her body, palming over himself. Laying on his side, he watched her. Wiping his mouth of her arousal and spreading it over his cock.

She reached out again, but he directed her hand up to his cheek instead.

"Just let me watch you, the image of you like this has been tormenting me."

Her body fallen open, cum dripping down her backside. Too fucked out to feel bashful, she stared back at him with lust blown eyes.

His breath hitched in his chest, free hand running reverently over her hip, her belly. Eyes lost in her in awed desire. Hand pumping faster and faster. Face starting to crumple in pleasure.

Seeing the first telltale twitches of his hips, she shot forward. Pulling him entirely into her mouth and sucking down hard. Bobbing her head and opening her throat.

He collapsed back onto haunches, hips rising in jolts. Hand winding into her hair, crying out against his cupped hand. Tremoring hard as his cum fired in waves down her throat.

Using the last of her strength, she sucked mercilessly. Gripping his hips still as he squirmed. Only when he started whimpering did she release him with a pop of her mouth. Falling back boneless on her bedroll.

"There." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I have the upper hand again."

He collapsed down next to her. Both their breath a heady miasma around them.

"Oh?" He laughed, voice strained with lost breath. "Do you now?"

"Mm-hmm," She hummed, turning onto her side and flipping him by the waist to wrap around his back.

"Now you've gotta get even with me again." She nuzzled into his back, arms winding around his front. Hands cupping his chest.

He sighed out, body going limp inside her hold. His hands lacing over hers tenderly. Murmuring out something she couldn't catch when her legs cradled up under his.

"What?" She hushed, kissing the curve of his shoulder.

"Hold me. Closer, please."

She wound her arms tighter, palm rising up over the burned circle. Fingers smothering the purple light. His fingers winding into hers desperately. As if he didn't hold on tightly enough, she would drift away from him.

"Shhh.." She pulled one of her hands behind him. Scratching gently along his back.

He tremored at that, going limp again. Bowing his back unconsciously.

She smiled, reminded of a cat. Nearly expecting him to start purring.

His breath slowly evened out, curling up fetal. Her body following him, encircling into his curl. A deep sleep seemed to take him, a soft snore moving in and out of his throat.

"Sweet, sweet man." She sighed, kissing the edge of his jaw. Seeing the side of his mouth curl up in a sleeping smile.

~

[taro-pdf]

Humans are Space Oddities: Humanity, Diplomacy, and Disability in Space

---

“Has the translator arrived yet?” 

“Yes Ser, she’s sanitizing her clothing and then will go straight to the docking bay.”

“Good, make sure she’s on time. Ser Hei is here in three hours, and we can’t have anything going wrong.” The captain paced up and down the command room of the Yenna. The space fae, Hei, was coming for a diplomatic discussion about setting up a trade route through xir solar system. If this talk didn’t go well, their ship may very well not make it back. 

---

Three hours later, exactly on time, the dock bay doors opened with a hiss, and a short humanoid figure with brown skin and wild, weightless locs walked through. So this was Hei. Xir reputation preceded xir, and there was not another being so powerful within 1,000 light years. The captain hurriedly stepped forward, only to fall back as xi bared xir teeth towards them, then spoke in a foreign language.

“Uh,” they looked confusedly at the translator. Though translators would work in Hei’s tongue, xi preferred to hear xir own language, and who were they to deny xir?

“I don’t take kindly to your advances. I brought my beings, and will not have you within two meters of them,” she supplied. Behind Hei, a tall being ducked under the door, glowing faintly—a light alien. Holding to xir robe entered a female human with loose brown hair, wearing human attire: a T-shirt and shorts.

“Greetings Mg. Captain,” said the light alien. Then to Hei, “what a nice ship this is.” Hei smiled warmly, then dropped xir expression as xi turned toward the captain again.

“Guang and Fern will be exploring your ship as we talk.”

“Of course, Ser Hei, they will not be bothered. Now, shall we move to the conference room?”

---

While Hei went to discuss politics, the tall being and human went sightseeing. Guang reached out a hand to brush dust off the top of a parked ship. It preferred to keep things tidy, but few were tall enough to see the dust that it could. When it looked down, Fern was gone.

---

Kell was a human technician aboard the Yenna, a spacecraft specialized in human recreational transport. They knew most of the crew on board, and this one wasn’t one of them. She was obviously distressed, pacing up and down the narrow corridor and wringing her hands. 

Kell opened their watch to link their translator to the hers, but no connection appeared. Looking again, she wasn’t wearing any watch. Since Kell was deaf, they only signed. While they could read and write UIPL, it wouldn’t help if the human had nothing to read it on. But the person needed help now, so Kell decided to try ASL.

Hello, I’m K-E-L-L, Kell, they signed slowly. You, they pointed at her, OK? They connected their pointer and thumb in the universal non-ASLsymbol. Or the french chef hand sign among some groups of humans.

She was not facing them head on, but she apparently caught what they said. She started to hit her hands together, one in a thumbs up and one flat in a repeating: Help! 

Ok! Don’t worry, I’ll help you. Kell reached out to calm her frantic signing, but she flinched away.

As they drew back, vibrations distracted them; something large was approaching. They braced themselves and turned toward the corner, from which a dim light was gradually growing. The being that appeared was talking. Its words scrolled across Kell’s glasses in a live transcription.

“Fern, thank goodness!” The tension left Guang’s body as it saw her, but she didn’t stop signing help. “It will be ok. This will pass and we will rest and go back home.” 

Turning to Kell, it asked, “do you have a room where the lights can be a dim purple? With a speaker for music? I’m her guardian, Guang, it/its, light alien.”

Thankfully, this alien had a watch.

Kell, they/them, human. I don’t speak, so I’ll text. I can take you somewhere, Kell texted back.

“Alright, one moment.” Guang turned to the human, speaking to her in a low voice but never touching her. Then to Kell it said, “let’s go slowly.”

Kell led the tall alien, and it in turn led the human, who held onto its robe. Once safely in the room, Guang adjusted the lighting and thanked Kell for their assistance. It asked for their contact code, which Kell gave. Though they hoped that it was not going to report them for making the human cry. It didn’t seem the type, but Kell hadn’t seen its species before, so couldn’t read its body language. Guang thanked them for their help once more and closed the door.

---

The captain sank into their chair. The talk went fine—no one died, thank god—but afterwards… they lost about ten years of their lifespan in stress.

It started with Hei suddenly standing in the middle of a sentence, eyes looking through the left wall, hands clenched. The gravity in the room doubled with the weight of xir emotion.

“Ser Hei, what may I do for you?” the captain gasped out, glancing between Hei and the wall.

“I’ll be leaving in two hours. Prepare my ship.” Hei swept out of the room, not waiting for an answer.

“Of course, Ser,” they inhaled deeply, able to breath again. They ordered the preparations be made and hurried to the control room to see where Hei had gone and what needed to be done in order to avoid damages. 

To their surprise, camera footage showed Hei sitting in a dimly lit room, mouth moving in quiet song. Besides xir sat xir partner, the light alien, and in between them, rocking back and forth, their human. After two hours, her rocking slowed and the trio stood. Hei cloaked them in darkness as they walked back towards the docking bay.

The captain and interpreter were there when Hei arrived. Briefly stepping out of the shadows, Hei addressed them.

“Your request is not granted. We will be keeping our solar system quiet. Travel may pass within five light years of my sun, but any closer and you shall not be seeing that ship again.” 

The captain flinched at the electricity that crackled in the air. What was it that bothered Hei so? What happened with the human? Why was Hei sparing them if they did something wrong? They didn’t risk asking, and the fae, light alien, and human left without another word.

---

Working on a panel of wires, Kell clicked their tongue to the rhythm of their music’s vibrations. It was rare to come across another disabled human in space, and even rarer that that human had real support. How lucky Fern was, and how excited Kell was for the invitation that Guang had promised to send to them. A human who they could connect with, and a chance to visit the planet of a space fae? Few could say they’ve had the honor.

---

For your information:

Mg. is short for Mage, and is a gender neutral title for Mister or Miss. Idea courtesy of @apolloendymion (link). Ser is a gender neutral title for Sir or Miss.

As for language, unless otherwise specialized, communication is in the Universal Interplanetary Language (UIPL), the language of trade and international politics. 

Hei uses it/its (UIPL) and xi/xir (birth tounge) pronouns. It prefers it's birth tounge and beings often default to what it wants, which is why the captain uses xi/xir pronouns even when speaking UIPL.

[petals2fish]

Read on AO3

James Potter had Lily Evans figured out since they were eleven years old. From the very beginning, she stood out to him. She was, without a doubt, the most dramatic woman he had ever encountered. Her passion and intensity in everything she did were unparalleled, making every argument they had both infuriating and exhilarating. She was also the loudest woman he had ever argued with, her voice always strong and clear, never backing down. But beyond all that, Lily was the prettiest person he had ever kissed. Her beauty was undeniable, but her kind soul is what captivated him completely.

Now, as James sat with Lily, he couldn't help but wish he were kissing her. He missed the softness of her lips, the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled, and the feeling of her arms wrapped around him. Every moment without her felt like an eternity, and he longed to be with her more, to hold her instead of just holding her hand, and to tell her just how much she meant to him.

“I heard he got you a penthouse on the west side,” James said, watching as her creamy shoulders, dotted with summer freckles, slowly slumped.

“Who told you?”

“Mary.” James tilted his head, not daring to tell her Mary always came to him when she was worried about Lily.

“Yeah,” she replied, trying to steer herself away from sadness with a joke. “The penthouse, with huge windows. I hate looking down at the city from so far up, so naturally I covered them all with curtains. Eric pulls them open every chance he gets.”

James didn’t offer her more than a shrug from his shoulders as the same searing pain shot through his gut. He wondered when her jerk of a west-end producer boyfriend would finally learn that Lily was afraid of heights. James knew. He knew the way her knuckles turned white the second she even considered flying on a broomstick, or the way she used to hold onto the edges of the Astronomy Tower for dear life.

James could instantly see from Lily’s expression that she wasn’t fond of her haughty boyfriend. Her discomfort was evident in several subtle ways: the slight tightening of her waist as if trying to brace herself, the bluish tint under her eyes hinting at sleepless nights or stress, and the restless drumming of her fingers on the table, betraying her irritation. Her body language spoke volumes, making it clear that this relationship was wearing her down.

Lily cleared her throat at his silence and muttered, “How’s, uh, what was her name? Rachel? That Daily Prophet reporter?”

James lifted his coffee to his lips before lowering it to say, “That was just casual sex, Lily, that’s all.”

“Casual,” she had the audacity to smirk and lift her own cup to hide it. “Gotcha.”

“You don’t believe me?” James shot back, daring her to argue with a raised brow.

“Well, I figured since you told me you don’t do casual—”

“Yeah, and you told me you don’t like men buying you nice gifts.”

James glanced at the side of the café patio where her brand-new Benz with the white wheels sat, looking atrociously clean. She had exited the car in her tight pantsuit, her red hair cut short to her shoulders, and James had been forced to do a double take. Lily looked so out of place next to the car, missing her hand-embroidered robes and long red hair.

James’ heart was on the edge of breaking as he realized she was slowly choosing the Muggle world, his brilliant best friend, because of some jerk who didn’t even realize what he had in the palm of his hand.

“Is that Sirius’ bike?” Lily quickly changed the subject and nodded toward the motorcycle she had seen James get off to meet her at the café.

“Mm-hmm.” James ruffled his curls as he glanced back at the old bike. “He got it to fly, you know, and it’s been fun to test it out.”

“Fun for you,” she said, tapping her fingertips on the coffee cup she held between both palms. “You couldn’t pay me to get on a flying motorbike.”

“I couldn’t even pay you to get on my broomstick.”

At the table across from them, a woman coughed, and James sent her a half-hearted salute. She grabbed her coffee and went back inside, eyes wide. Lily kicked him under the table.

“You’re deplorable,” she said, but she was chuckling, that familiar sparkle in her green eyes.

“I know.” James winked. “She’s the one who took is as an innuendo. Don’t blame my broomstick.”

Lily rolled her eyes as a longer laugh erupted from her lungs. “James Potter, I love you.”

No, she didn’t.

But she could’ve.

James felt a pang in his chest, knowing the words were spoken in jest. Her laugh was genuine, her eyes sparkling with the same warmth and humor he cherished, but he couldn’t help but wish she meant it. He wanted her to see him as more than just a friend, to feel the same way he did every time he looked at her, but it was like the second they’d taken a break—she’d taken a total one eighty.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “You love me, who doesn’t?”

Lily shook her head, still smiling. “You’re an idiot sometimes, did you know that?”

James leaned back in his chair, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes. “Takes one to know one, Evans.”

As they continued to banter, the ache in James’ heart grew stronger. He wished he could tell her how he truly felt, how every moment with her made him want more. But for now, he would settle for her laughter and her company, even if it wasn’t the kind of love he longed for.

He hated that she didn’t love him, hated that those pink cheeks were kissed by someone else. He could love Lily Evans with his eyes closed, kiss her wearing a blindfold, and still know it was her. But here they were, sitting and talking with their hands metaphorically tied, knowing they’d chosen the wrong people at the wrong time.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said as they stood up from their table in sync. “But I’ve got to get back. Rehearsals are in an hour.”

“Thanks for fitting in time to see me, Evans.”

“Anything for my Head Boy,” Lily teased.

James forced a smile, watching her lift an expensive heart shaped purse over her shoulder, his heart aching for the love that wasn’t his. He wondered what she would do if she were blindfolded, and had to be kissed by all her lovers, past and present. Would she choose him? Would she still know his lips from everyone else’s?

He’d know hers.

James swung a comfortable arm around her shoulders as he walked her back to her ostentatious car, half parked on the sidewalk. She looked up at him with a soft smile as he opened the driver’s side door for her. James’ stomach flipped at her pretty, angelic aura that seemed to radiate like golden waves off of her.

“This was nice.” She said, her hand patting his arm tenderly, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ll see you again,” he promised, “no more disappearing for three months until I see your name on a billboard again, deal?”

“Promise you’ll come to the show this weekend,” she asked, tilting her head, looking particularly sneaky with a look in her eye that used to get him undressed in seconds. “You can bring whoever you like, even one of your new friends, just promise to come.”

“Who said I have new friends?” James dropped his arm from her shoulder as she started getting into the driver’s seat. “I have exactly five friends.”

“Please,” she snorted, “Mr. Big Time Quidditch Player. I know you have way more friends than me.”

“And what about you, breakout West End star of ‘Grease the Musical’?” James leaned on the door of her car. “I expect all those parties are just teaming with strangers who want to know more about you.”

“I have Eric,” she said, and James felt sick to his stomach at the mention of her boyfriend. “He’s not a stranger, and he always makes sure I’m—not alone.”

James blinked sourly, and Lily spotted the look. Her expression dimmed.

“James,” her voice warned, “we both chose this.”

“I just—” James put his chin on his knuckles as he watched her watch him. “Does he even know you’re a witch yet?”

“I don’t need to tell anyone,” Lily said, pulling her hair back, though it was so short it just fell forward again. “Least of all Eric, because those days are behind me.”

“So, you’ll keep pushing away your magical friends and family,” James noted, “in favor of this?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said, her hand gripping the door handle as her expression hardened. “See you later, Potter.”

She yanked the door open, her face a mask of icy resolve, and slammed it behind her as she started the car. With a screech of tires and a near collision with the curb, she sped off. James watched, a snort escaping him as he realized she was just as reckless behind the wheel as she was on a broomstick. Despite everything, his feelings for her remained unchanged.

After wrestling with his decision over the weekend, James finally made up his mind to attend her show. The situation with Eric had made it impossible for him to owl Lily directly, so he resolved to surprise her in person. On the day of the matinee, he arrived at the theater bearing a bouquet of pristine white roses and a box of her favorite jellybean flavors.

Using his invisibility cloak to slip past security and avoid detection in the winding corridors, he finally reached the door marked with her name. The space outside was already adorned with flowers, a few gifts, and several letters taped to the door. He made a conscious effort not to read any of them as he gently knocked while stuffing his cloak into his bag.

“Hold on a sec!” Lily’s voice called out from inside, her tone a mix of nervous impatience mixed with genuine apology.

When she opened the door, James was met with a dazzling sight. Lily, already in full makeup and wearing a stunning blue dress, looked momentarily taken aback. Her green eyes widened with surprise as she quickly stepped aside to let him in.

‘Hey Lily.”

“How did you get in here?” she asked, her astonishment clear in her voice.

“Snuck past security with my Invisibility Cloak,” James shrugged as he shoved the flowers forward for her. “I decided to take you up on your offer to come see you perform.”

Lily grabbed the flowers, but within seconds, she had tossed them onto her vanity. “How did you manage to get a seat? We’re booked up two weeks in advance.”

“I was planning on standing in the wings while wearing my cloak,” James explained, “so I wouldn’t miss a thing.”

“You were going to sneak in just to watch me?” Lily brushed her hair back, clearly surprised. “Really?”

“Yes, why?”

“I didn’t think you cared that much, to be honest,” she admitted.

James took her hand, looking earnest as he said, “Evans, it’s you. Of course, I care.”

He brought a showing hand up, brushing her jaw with the back of his hand. He wasn’t bold enough to suggest what he wanted, but he knew if anyone could read his mind, it was Lily.

Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she spoke quickly, “James, I’ve been thinking…”

“About what?” His heartbeat quickened with anticipation and hope.

She took a shaky breath as his lips drew closer to hers. “I’ve been thinking—thinking.”

“About me?” he murmured, his nose barely grazing hers. “What about Eric?”

The mention of Eric made her pull back slightly, her eyes flashing with intensity. “That’s what you’ve been missing.”

“I haven’t missed anything about him,” James replied firmly. “Of all the little things I could be missing, your lack of affection for that prick is the least of my concerns.”

She took a step closer, shutting the door behind him and locking it before whispering, “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to pretend to care about Eric at all, when all I do at night is think about you?”

James stared at her, taken aback. “No. Why do you think you have to pretend to love someone for the sake of me?”

Lily shook her head softly, her eyes filled with a mix of frustration and yearning. “When will you learn?”

James stepped into her body, his heart pounding. “Learn what, Lily?”

“That I’ve always loved you,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought distancing myself would make things easier, because I didn’t know how I would be able to handle all your traveling for quidditch, but it’s only made me realize how much I need you.”

“Oh God, Lily.” James reached out, gently cupping her face with his hand. “You know I never wanted to take a break, right? I only suggested it to try and give you some space. I never wanted this much space…not now…not ever.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she leaned into his touch. “I’ve missed you so much, James.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you can imagine.”

She kissed him, and he closed his eyes, savoring the sensation. Her lips parted against his, and he felt her deepening the kiss with the familiar stroke of her tongue against his. James cupped her face, tilting her head up, and pulled her closer by wrapping his arms around her. She tasted like peppermint, the same kind of tea he knew she loved, and he couldn’t get enough of her. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss but continued his way down her chin, his lips trailing until they reached her ear.

“You’ve wanted it to be me this whole time, haven’t you?” he murmured, his hands digging into her skin as they trailed down her body. She nodded her head between them, and he chuckled, a deep, satisfied sound. "That's my girl."

Yeah, he had Lily Evans figured out, and this time he was never letting her go.

[hami-gua]

子(Zi)衿(Jin) · His Collar

This fic came as inspo after listening to 相和歌 where they took the poem written by 郑风 and turned it into a song and dance. Honestly it could fit any hsr men but because the poem talks specifically about a green (more turquoise like green) collar and I thought the only character that would have that kind of collar would be Dan Heng. I would describe this poem as a poem of longing (cuz it actually is lol).

Dan Heng (implied imbibitor lunae) x Reader (female as per the poem)

Warning: Chinese (translated), shit translation, not reviewed, spelling errors and grammatical errors (idk so I just put here in case), attempt on classic poetry was made, redundant use of certain words.

Contains: Fluff, mild hurt/comfort

青青子衿(Qīngqīng zi jīn)，悠悠我心(yōuyōu wǒ xīn)。      [The green on his collar, my heart longs for.]

纵我不往(Zòng wǒ bù wǎng)，子宁不嗣音(zi níng bù sì yīn？)？  [If I never go (to him), will he not send a message?]

青青子佩(Qīngqīng zi pèi)，悠悠我思(yōuyōu wǒ sī )。      [The green that he wears, my thoughts linger to.]

纵我不往(Zòng wǒ bù wǎng)，子宁不来( zi níng bù lái)？     [If I never go, would he come to me?]

挑兮达兮(Tiāo xī dá xī)，在城阙兮(zài chéngquē xī)         [I wait and wait, by the city gate.]

一日不见(Yī rì bùjiàn)，如三月兮(rú sān yuè xī)。      [Days pass without a sight of him, as three months have passed.]

How long has it been since his departure? The lady could only wonder. The turquoise green of his collar glow as his robes woven of silk glimmer under sunlight. His voice, a gentle lull, always putting those who hear it at ease. His touch is gentle and careful but held with steadiness. A steadiness she longs for. The bells let out a low hum, breaking the lady out of her stupor.

         It’s been days since he last sent a letter. She wonders if he intends to send another, or if her letter has been lost along the way. The lady wonders if she should go to him, lest he doesn’t want to see her. Not yet at least. But she could only hope – that he misses her as much as she misses him.

         The turquoise green of his collar brightens against the long dark strands of his hair. The lady feels as if the man her mind flits off to have currently been busy. Endless worry floats about in her mind: wondering if he ate, if he slept, or if he’s been taking breaks. She hopes that all are going in his favor – for war is not so easily won nor so easily fought.

         Each day, the lady passes by the tops of the city’s gate. Stopping right above the doors to gaze out over the horizon, as if looking for a figure among many to arrive at the gate. But alas, each day was met with nothing but the land as the sun arches over the mountains and peaks between the valleys. And like that, three months have passed with no news of the war or the man.

         On the eighth day of the fourth month, the sound of galloping startled the civilians as many rushed to supposed safety. Until all was calmed when a voice from the guards cried out, “They have returned!” And upon hearing those words, the people cheered with jubilation – relieved at the thought of their loved ones returning. The lady stood there very still, trying to gather the information that was given. It wasn’t until her maid spoke did she finally realize what has happened.

         A proud and steady figure with turquoise green collar entered through the gates first, leading the rest of the soldiers. Cheers and cries broke out around him as he allowed his men to join their loved ones. His turquoise green eyes darted from one face to another, trying to find the one he loves. And at last, with a call of his name did he find the one he sought.

         “Dan Heng!”

He turned, only to see his love with her maid chasing her – begging her to slow down. Dan Heng only had a second to brace as the lady crashed right into him, with her arms embracing him tightly.

         “你回来了！你回来了！你终于回来了！” [You’re back! You’re back! You’re finally back!]

He smiled as he softly stroked her head, “嗯，我回来了。” [Mhm. I’m back.]

         The lady looked up at him, tears brimming her eyes. Dan Heng’s hand reached up and gently brushed those tears away as more fell. Unbothered, he brushed more away as the lady giggled. That prompted him to also giggle a little. With a kiss to her head and a gentle voice, he told her:

         “我们回家吧。” [Let’s go home.]

After writing I realized the kind of green 青 means. It's the kind of greenish blue you would see on oxidized bronze. I wonder if bronze is called 青铜 because of the oxidization.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Temptation Chapter 6 FINAL

Summary: Father Barnes is devout, steadfast, and undeterred by flirtatious congregants.  So why does this fallen angel tempt him so?  You cannot serve two masters.  Will he choose God, or his heart? Priest!Bucky x curvy!reader Warnings: eventual smut; religion (yes it's a warning); mentions of past sexual assault

Previous chapter

It was a stormy night just a few days later when Bucky left the church building, bags in his hands and plain clothes on.  He had a handful of bills in his pocket as he flagged down a taxi.  He gave the driver the address and sat back as he watched the rain pelt the windows.  How poetic.

When the driver pulled up and dropped him off Bucky looked up at the brownstone.  A few lights were still on.  He walked up the stoop stairs and huddled under the small awning of the doorway.  He rapped his knuckles on the door loudly as he waited, a shiver starting to settle into his body from the cold night air.  He heard some footsteps inside and braced himself.

Y/N heard the knock, looking at the clock on her phone and wondering who would be coming at this time of night.  She trudged over to the door and looked through the peephole.  She did a double take and paused before opening the door.

“Bucky?” she said, staring at him in awe.

“Hey,” he stared back at her.  

“What are you…?  Well come in, it’s freezing,” she ushered him inside.  Bucky walked in, still holding his bags as he dripped on the marble floor.  “You’re soaking wet, what are you doing here?”

Bucky shivered as the warmth inside enveloped him and he sighed.  “I quit.”

“You…” Y/N stopped as she blinked.  “You quit?  Quit what?”

“My priesthood.  I quit.  I left,” Bucky stated as he took her in.  She was in a short pajama tank top dress, barely skimming below her butt.  She wore a kimono style robe over it and thick thigh high socks.  Her pink hair was down rather than tied up like she normally had it.  “I…had nowhere else to go.”

Y/N let out a breath and gave him a small smile as she took in his drenched state.  “Okay, well, let’s get you cleaned up.”  She reached out and took one of his bags and turned towards the stairs.  Bucky followed her up a flight of stairs to some bedrooms.  Some of them were still under construction from the renovations she had talked about, so she led him to an open one.  She turned the lights on and put the bag at the end of the bed.  “You can stay here.  The dresser is in the closet over there,” she pointed to a door off to the side, “and the bathroom is there,” she pointed to another door.  “You can shower while I take these and get them washed,” gestured to his wet clothes.  “Are these drenched, too, or are some of them dry enough for you to wear?” She bent down and opened the bag she’d been holding and checked on the clothes inside.  Bucky did the same with the bag he had.

“Yeah, there’s some dry ones in here,” Bucky said as he pulled them out.  “I don’t have much.”

“Obviously,” Y/N snorted as she gathered the bag she had been holding and then took his other bag from him, rifling through and taking the ones that were wet.  “Now go in and take those off.  I’ll wait here till you’re done and you can pass them to me before you get in.”  Bucky nodded as he headed towards the bathroom.  He was going to have to get used to the idea of being on the “outside.”  The whole ordeal had been quick, being laicized then packing and leaving.  He’d been going through the motions and now it was all becoming real.  He stripped out of the clothes stuck to his body, standing naked in the middle of the bathroom.  He gathered the clothes and cracked the door, keeping his body behind it.  He felt her hands gather around the clothes he held.  Before she could turn away he gripped her wrist.  Y/N turned back to the door, seeing him peek around the corner of the door.  

“Thank you, Y/N,” Bucky murmured, gulping before looking at her face.

Y/N nodded.  “It’s no problem, Buck.”  He smiled at her then dropped her wrist, closing the door quietly.

Y/N brought the clothes back downstairs to run them through the laundry.  He was here.  In her house.  Showering upstairs.  He had quit the ministry, whether it was for her or for himself remained to be seen.  She didn’t know how to process this information as she went to the kitchen to find him something to eat really quick.  

Bucky was having a small meltdown in the shower upstairs.  The hot water ran down his body, warming him from the outside in.  He felt a weird sense of freedom mixed with fear.  Now what?  He felt the worry setting in after he washed himself.  For the first time in his life he started having a panic attack.  He felt himself start to blackout, his body thudding against the side of the shower as he struggled to keep upright and sunk to his knees as the water ran over him.

Y/N heard the thud.  It was louder than it should have been for any normal shower activities.  She had a sinking feeling and ran back up the stairs.  She barged into the room, walking over the bathroom and knocking on the door.  “Buck?  Bucky are you okay?  I heard a loud noise.”  She didn’t hear anything.  “Buck I’m coming in!”  Thankfully he hadn’t locked the door and she walked in.  The water was still on, steaming up the mirror and the shower glass doors.  She could make out his body heaped on the floor of the shower.

“Oh, Buck,” she opened the shower door and crouched down inside of it next to him, getting herself soaked under the stream of water.  Bucky was hyperventilating, his eyes shut tight, his whole body shaking.  “Bucky?  Come on, handsome,” Y/N ignored his nakedness as she moved him so her back was against the wall and he was laid with his back against her front as she held him.  The water was now hitting his face a little bit, helping to distract him.  Her arms wove around his shoulders and chest, caressing his skin softly while one of her hands went to his hair as his head rested on her shoulder.  “It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.  You’re having a panic attack, you’re going to be okay,” she whispered in his ear.  Bucky twitched as her fingers ran through his wet hair.  “I’m here, I’m right here, it’s gonna be okay.  I got you,” she kissed the side of his head.  “Just breath, handsome.  Breath…”

Bucky’s breathing started to even out as she slowly breathed behind him, her chest rising behind him giving him a rhythm to try to copy.  His clenched hands slowly unclenched, his legs relaxing and stretching out as he started to come back to himself.  He could hear her words but they were distant, the ringing in his ears slowly fading.  His eyes fluttered open as he felt her kiss his head again, her lips brushing his ear as she spoke.

“Y/N?” he whispered, it coming out more as a grunt from how hoarse it sounded.

“Bucky?” Y/N twisted so she could see his face better.  Her fingers moved from his hair to his face, softly stroking his cheek and his nose to wake him up.  “Can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah,” he tried to move but it made him lightheaded and he sank back against her.

“Don’t move, handsome, just hold on, get your bearings,” Y/N whispered.  “You’re okay.  It’s okay.”  

Bucky lay against her and breathed deeply.  He felt embarrassed at needing this kind of help, and yet he loved the way she was holding him right now.  After a few more minutes he shifted in her arms.  “I think I can get up,” he said quietly.

“Okay, hold on,” Y/N said, and she got herself out from underneath him.  “Let me up first and I’ll help you.”

Bucky held himself up as she stood and then rounded to face him.  She held her hands out.  He took them and she pulled him up.  She made sure he wasn’t woozy as he stood.  “Did you wash up?”

“Yeah,” he said, putting a hand over his cock to cover himself.  “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry Buck, it’s alright,” she reassured him, turning the water off.  She opened the shower door and stepped out, grabbing a towel for him and then one for her.  “I’m going to change really quick.  Just take it slow and I’ll be right outside, okay?”

“Okay,” Bucky nodded.  

He dried off and changed quickly.  When he opened the bedroom door Y/N was already there in a long, oversized hoodie, her hair tied up again and slippers on her feet.  “Are you hungry?” she asked sweetly.

“Starving,” Bucky smiled at her. She looped an arm around one of his arms as they headed back downstairs.  He knew it was to make sure he was steady but he appreciated the closeness.  She led him to the kitchen and sat him at the table before returning to the fridge and pulling out ingredients to make him a quick sandwich.  

“The kitchen just barely finished renovation a couple of days ago so I still don’t have a well stocked fridge, so I hope this is okay,” Y/N brought over the ingredients to the table, setting them down and then getting plates.

“This is perfect, thank you,” Bucky’s stomach growled as he looked at the ingredients.  He made himself a sandwich as Y/N set a plate in front of him.  She went back to the fridge and dug around inside.

“What would you like to drink?  I’ve got water, some soda, some wine,” she said suggestively.  

Bucky laughed.  “I’ll just have some water, thanks.” “Killjoy,” she teased him, bringing him a water bottle while she pulled out the wine for herself.  

They ate in silence.  It wasn’t necessarily awkward or uncomfortable, just heavy.  They had a few things to talk about and they both were putting it off.

Y/N decided to break the ice first.  “So I saw you naked.”  Bucky choked on his bite of food, coughing as he glared at her.  She glared back at him, fighting off a smile.  “Looking good there, Barnes,” she winked at him.

“My god,” Bucky sputtered as he took a drink of water.

“You’re awful prude for a guy who had his face in my boobs a few weeks ago,” she teased him again, but there was an underlying question in her words.

Bucky swallowed as he finished his sandwich.  “Yeah, that was…new for me.”

Y/N giggled as she stood up to clear the table.  Bucky watched her as her hoodie shifted around her thick thighs, her underwear peeking from underneath when she walked.  Her legs jiggled as she walked to and from the table, making him want to touch them again and have her wrap them around his waist.  He tried to cut off his thoughts.

“Let’s go to the front room, hm?” Y/N asked as she finished cleaning.  Bucky nodded and followed her into the next room.  She sat on one end of the couch and he sat on the other.  He didn’t know what she wanted, or didn’t want, from him now, and didn’t want to push his luck.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Y/N grunted as she shifted into a comfortable position, throwing a blanket nearby over her legs and sharing it with him on the other side.  “Why did you have a panic attack in the shower?”

“Because I freaked out when I realized just how real this all was in the moment,” Bucky replied instantly.  

Y/N nodded.  “Okay, makes sense.  And why did you leave the ministry?”

“I would like to think that that’s pretty obvious,” Bucky narrowed his eyes at her.

“It’s not,” Y/N said simply.

“Okay, well, a few months ago this girl came into my life that I thought was beautiful and we became friends.  A few weeks ago I let that girl into my room and kissed her and touched her and wanted to do a lot more with her but she left trying to protect me.  I like that girl a lot, and after she left I couldn’t just get back into the swing of things.  I didn’t want to.  I wanted her, and only her,” he said while gazing at her.  

Y/N swallowed as she listened to him.  She looked down as she asked, “And what do you want from that girl now?”

Bucky moved over to where she sat on the couch.  He took one of her hands in his and brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles.  “I’m hoping that she knows that I chose her,” he said quietly.  “And I’m willing to take anything she’s willing to give.  For as long as she’ll have me.  Because I realized that night that she was my church.  She was what I wanted to worship for the rest of my life.”

Y/N was crying now as she listened to him.  He spoke about her with such reverence that it almost scared her, but also made her feel honored.  She brought the hand that held hers up to her lips and kissed his hand this time.  She wiped her eyes with her free hand and then gave him a watery smile.  “Yeah I’ll have you.”

Bucky reflected her smile.  “Can I uh, get a little something for my good choices?” he asked, giving her a wink.

“Oh my god!” Y/N laughed at him.  “So you’re free what, a whole day, and you think you get to have some pussy right off?”

“Woah, I never said that!” Bucky looked horrified.  “Jeez Y/N I was thinking of a kiss or something.”

Y/N laughed at him again before she moved.  She straddled his lap, her core set right over his, and she looped her arms around his head.  Bucky’s hands automatically went to her hips.  “Yes, Father.”

“Oof, no,” Bucky grimaced and shook his head, making her laugh.  “Don’t like that.”

“Me neither, I just love teasing you,” Y/N scrunched her nose at him.  She kissed his nose, making him smile.  She ghosted her lips over his cheek and over his mouth.  Bucky waited for her, wanting this all to be on her timing.  When she finally kissed him Bucky instantly felt home as his mouth pressed against hers.  With all the uncertainty and frustration and despair he’d been feeling since she left that night, this was like a salve, a medicine to his fractured soul.  A dam broke in his mind, the last wall fell, and he held her close and tight like he was afraid to lose her.  Y/N opened her mouth to taste him which he gladly accepted.  She licked his lip and sucked it into her mouth.  She bit it lightly and mumbled around it, “Mine.”

Bucky whimpered at her claiming him.  He nodded when she let go of his lip.  “Yours,” he promised.

Through a rush of sighs and moans she was naked on top of him, grinding herself onto his crotch, her naked breasts brushing against his now naked chest.  Bucky was panting, the desire overwhelming him on a molecular level.  “I’ve never done this,” Bucky heaved as she helped him slide out of his pants and underwear.

“I’m sure,” Y/N smiled as she sat back down on him.  Her naked pussy slid across his shaft, making him moan loudly.  “If you’re not ready, we can stop,” she breathed as she scratched down his chest.

“No I…ungh, I want to,” Bucky said as his hands groped her ass. 

Y/N continued to grind on him.  “Are you ready?”

Bucky nodded as he watched her grind on his cock.  She grabbed his jaw and made him look at her.  “Words, handsome.”

“Yes, I’m ready,” he answered her, his head nodding frantically.  “Please…”

Y/N took his cock in her hand and gave him two pumps before lifting herself up slightly and angling the head towards her entrance.  Once it was nestled into her lower lips at the right spot she let go and began to sink down on him slowly.

“Oh my god,” Bucky groaned, his head thrown back as he tried to keep himself composed.  He didn’t want to burst right away.  Once she was fully seated on him she waited.

“You feel so good, Bucky,” she whined as her legs trembled, wanting to move.  She experimentally swirled her hips.

“Ah!  Don’t…god,” Bucky whimpered.  “I’m trying not to cum, Y/N, please…”

“Sorry handsome, you just fill me up so well,” Y/N sighed.  Her hands pulled his hands up to her breasts, showing him how she wanted him to massage them and touch her nipples.  Bucky did what she wanted, feeling her pussy flutter around him as he did.

“Can I move, handsome?  Please?  I want…” Y/N was shaking with need.

“Yeah, yeah…” Bucky grunted.  

Y/N swiveled her hips again, making his mouth drop open in a silent moan.  She slowly lifted herself up until he was almost all the way out of her, then plunged back down.  Bucky hands tightened on her ass, helping her grind her hips down on him.  

“Y/N…God…shit…” Bucky didn’t know what he was saying.  His mind was clouded.  As she bobbed up and down on him he felt the urge to thrust up into her and followed that instinct as she sat down on him.  Y/N’s body shuddered at his thrust.  “You like that?” he breathed as he linked his arms behind her back and held her close to him.  “Okay then…”

He held her tight against him as he lifted her so he could raise his hips and then started thrusting up into her hard and fast.  Y/N gripped the couch cushion behind him, her head falling back as she moaned loudly.  Her breasts jiggled in his face and he sucked a nipple into his mouth as he drilled into her.

“Bucky…ah, I’m gonna…mmmmh…” Y/N’s voice was in his ear, her punctuated breaths as he thrust into her egging him on.

“Yesss angel,” Bucky hissed as he felt the burn in his thighs.

Y/N tensed and then came, shouting his name as her pussy clamped down on his cock.  Her whole body shook as she tightened impossibly hard around him, her hands reaching into his hair and pulling.  Bucky came soon after, a yelp falling from his lips as he thrust one last time, filling her up with everything he had.  They slumped into the couch together, holding each other as they tried to come back down to earth.

Bucky kissed her cheek, his hands resting on her back and slowly tickling her spine with his fingers.  Y/N gave him a kiss to his neck that she was curled into.  He smiled as she sat herself up, the movement making a little bit of their combined juices drip from between them.

“Goddamn, Buck,” Y/N breathed as she fixed his hair.

Bucky smirked at her.  “And you said I wouldn’t get pussy on the first night.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she loudly scoffed as she slapped his chest making him laugh.  “It’s not my fault I got an eyeful of you in the shower.  How were you hiding all this,” she gestured towards his body, “underneath a robe?”  Bucky’s face flushed at her compliment as he bit back a shit-eating grin.  “Oh I see, you know you’re hot shit, huh?  Had all the little old bitty Catholics pining after the young hot priest?”

“Well, they weren’t all old,” he joked.  “And I’m not that young anymore.”

“Mhm,” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him.  She suddenly moved herself up, making a mess on him as he slipped out of her.  He gave her a surprised look.

“Come on then, old man.  Let’s take a more fun shower.”

***

2 years later

Bucky had been to multiple states and countries by now and none of them had been as beautiful as Bora Bora.  The white sand, the bungalows set in the water, the people, the greenery, it was what he imagined heaven, if there was one, to be like.  As he walked along the beach holding two drinks in his hands he smiled seeing Y/N in her bikini, taking pictures of the water and the scenery around them.

“Here you are, angel,” he said as he walked up beside her.  Y/N turned the camera towards him and took a few candid pictures of him sitting next to her holding out the drink.

“Thank you, handsome,” she cooed at him, kissing him before taking the drink and taking a sip.  She moaned at the taste and cool reprieve it provided.

“You gotta stop that, angel, or we’re about to get really dirty,” Bucky groaned as he sipped his drink, shifting on the beach chair he was sitting on.

Y/N laughed at him.  “Aw, is my pretty sweet thing a little horny watching me enjoy my drink?” she teased him as she moved over to kneel in front of his chair, her breasts resting on his leg as she reached up and squished his cheeks together.

“You’re mean,” he pouted through his pursed lips.

Y/N pulled his face towards hers, kissing him and nipping his bottom lip.  “And you’re mine.”

**picture if from Pinterest, it's A.I. so there's no "artist" or "creator"**

And that's it! I hope y'all liked this one. It was a lot of fun to write. The next one is going to be a Viking!Bucky story that I'm really excited about. Thanks for the follows and likes and comments! You're all so sweet. <3

@wintrsoldrluvr

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

miralda, the cartographer

the cartographer: a crossroads, exploration

“Left or right?”

The gelid walls of the lower Midden, rimed and somehow still wet as they are, seem to swallow sound where they should instead echo back. Likely it is some fault of the carpet of cobwebs, catching whispers just as well as whatever unfortunate small prey find themselves here. The creak of ice and a distant drip-drip are harder to place in one’s surroundings, softened so. Despite all this and the quiet skittering from elsewhere, the way they’ve come has been relatively unimpeded. She could almost think the path cleared in advance.

The master wizard looks at her again, expectant, and Faralda says aloud, “You’ve seemed perfectly capable of charting the course thus far. I am, in fact, still unclear why you’ve brought me along at all.”

“Well, you make a decent torch,” says the master wizard lightly, and turns left.

Something twitches in her brow. She measures her steps shorter, so as not to outpace her. “I see. Have you been wasting in administrative work so long you’ve forgotten how to cast a magelight?”

In answer, a flick of black-gloved fingers puts a ball of frozen light overhead, silvering the webbing matted along the floor and ceiling as brightly as the argent shot through her dark hair. “Satisfactory?”

“Unsurprising.” The master wizard glances back with a start. Faralda ducks under a long strand of cobweb dangling from the ceiling, one arm overhead to keep it from catching. “You brought me along for a job you do yourself anyway.”

The master wizard halts abruptly, stands like a very short spire amid a sea of spiderwebs. It is, though, finally, Mirabelle’s wry sliver-smile that casts her way when she says, “Are you suggesting I have trouble delegating?”

“What did the Psijic really want?” She shifts her jaw, does not move to brush the thin white thread from Mirabelle’s shoulder despite the thought thrumming down her arm into her fingertips. “To have us traipse through the Midden in the dark? In search of—?”

“I didn’t leave it that dim,” objects Mirabelle. Then her mouth sets, thin and grim, and she holds up a hand, steeled eyes caught on something on the floor.

Faralda looks down. A perfect heelprint, disturbing the spiders’ work, stiff and sharp and not from the sort of boot any of theirs would wear. Understanding, she takes a step in the direction it points, and finds another half a print just under the length of her own stride.

The path, it seems, has indeed been cleared in advance.

“I will hope,” the master wizard murmurs, “that no Psijic advised our pioneer to pay a visit to the Augur as well.” She straightens herself, braced for whatever they may find ahead. “‘Your efforts should be directed toward dealing with the aftermath.’ That is what the Psijic had to say. He could not, or would not, say the aftermath of what. And the unfortunate thing about aftermath is that it comes—after.”

“That is generally the case, yes,” Faralda says, voice lowered to match hers. “Helpful of him.” Vague but urgent, just as he had seemed at the gate—the Psijic had materialized, seemingly to his own surprise as much as hers, halfway up the incline to the gatehouse, and busied himself straightening his fine yellow robes.

He had not bothered to introduce himself. He had not needed to, in truth. I believe one of my colleagues, he had said instead, to interrupt her interrogatory inhale, spoke with one of your colleagues? And she had thought of their archivist, one thumb pressed to the worried corner of her own mouth in thought, telling her, There was something—someone else, there, in Saarthal—

With her magelight caught again in her palm, the master wizard studies the distance between the prints. “It is Ancano that’s always putting himself where he’ll look taller when you come by, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t noticed such a thing.”

“Haven’t you? Hm.” She cups her other hand around the light. “Onward, then.”

Toward, optimistically, somewhat more auspicious augury, and not a prowling Thalmor or three. Regardless, Faralda takes a breath, readies a precautionary ember at the tip of her tongue. “I see now. I’m not a torch; I’m a ruler.”

“Please,” Mirabelle admonishes. The shadows of her fingers round her magelight flicker across her cheeks, make them look hollower than they are; stark contrast even as she continues with her solemn expression never faltering, “You are at least a yardstick.”

[triscribe]

The Magic Trousers

(So I'm trying to come up with something to submit for a magazine's flash fiction competition, and while I don't think this is going to be it, I don't want to just lose it in my folders either. Hope you guys enjoy)

The third time her little brother turned up with blood on his face, Alene decided she needed to do something about it.

Not that Elber ever came out and said, but she knew good and well who bloodied his nose, who split his lip. Less than twenty kids lived in their village, but even out of a hundred, two hundred, a thousand, she’d have no trouble knowing who did it.

“I'm fine,” Elber tried to protest, when she sat him down and cleaned him up. “You don’t have to-”

“I do have to,” huffed Alene. “Just you and me now, and old Nana, but she’s too blind to do this anyhow. So hush up and sit still.”

She tended to her brother, warm water and a soft cloth and a dab of salve to speed along his healing. Then Alene sat him down next to her, and made the boy hold a ball of rough yarn as she pulled from it. Back and forth, across their mother’s old loom. Back and forth, click-clack, back and forth.

And she told Elber, “You know there used to be witches in our family?” Her brother’s eyes went wide. “Good witches, who cast their spells on tyrants and bullies, taught them harsh lessons so they’d leave the smallfolk who lived under them alone. Once, there was a witch who went to a king’s castle, pulling an empty cart like it was full and heavy. And she told everyone along the way, whether they asked or not, that she’d brought a gift: magic cloth made on a magic loom, enchanted so only wise and worldly people could see it.”

“...what’s ‘worldly’ mean?”

“Means you know what’s what,” Alene explained. “And nobody she told wanted to admit they didn’t, so instead they all went ‘oh, of course, what lovely cloth’. All the way through the castle, and to the king, who didn’t want anyone thinking he was stupid either, so he agreed to pay the witch to turn the magic cloth into robes for him to wear.”

Elber’s eyes got even wider. “But- there wasn’t any cloth?”

“Not a single thread. Speaking of, I’m almost done with this, go get me Momma’s old sewing kit.”

She finished telling her brother the story while putting her lengths of fabric together, skipping more stitches than not. About how the witch put on a great show, going through the motions and chanting in a strange tongue, until she announced the robes were ready, lighter than air and softer than a cloud. The king immediately put on his new outfit to show off, going up and down his whole castle, then out of it entirely to parade through the nearest village. But only the castle folk knew what the witch said about her magic cloth - the villagers didn’t. They saw the king prancing about in his small clothes, and one by one everybody started laughing, more and more until you could hear sound for miles around. The king tried to wave it off, tried to insist not a one of them was wise enough to see his wonderful magic robes.

But he still went back to his castle awfully embarrassed.

By the end of her story, Alene held up a pair of simple, homespun trousers, nothing odd to be seen. That night, after the whole village went to sleep, she stole out of her family’s home and over to another house, switching the trousers with another pair, not a soul aware of what she’d done.

Well. None besides Elber. And the next morning, when the blacksmith’s son promised to punch him in the face again, Alene’s little brother did exactly as she’d told him: he pointed at the bigger boy and yelled that the Old Magic punished bullies for their crimes, along with a few made-up words for good measure.

All the other kids jeered. And the blacksmith’s son did what he always did: he picked up one foot to brace against the nearest wall, posing like a hero out of a storybook.

And his trousers promptly came apart at the seams.

Alene, walking by with her market basket as laughter erupted, hid a smirk all the way home.

[chubby-kiyo]

Okay. Time to do Goodbye Despair edition of appearance headcanons

Teruteru Hanamura - (He/Him Hyper pan sexual) I don’t actually hate his design, he looks like the plump chef decorations everyone had in their kitchen in the 90s. He has thick hair and uses a ridiculous amount of pomade and hairspray to style it. (How he doesn’t catch on fire doing flambé is beyond me)

Ultimate Imposter - (They/Them intersex pansexual) They have to hide all of their natural features as part of their talent, but I feel like they probably have a somewhat feminine build. Due to their weight, they can pass more easily as any gender without being questioned (and maybe with some shape wear to help seal the deal) and this is pretty gender affirming for them.

Mahiru Koizumi - (She/They, Lesbian) She is midsized with a small tummy pooch and kind of pear shaped. Her freckles extend to her shoulders and back, and she has somewhat crooked teeth, but in kind of an endearing way. Has a small nose ring.

Peko Pekoyama - (She/Her, grey asexual) Slim and muscular with very little curvature, not that she needs a big pair of jugs to slow her down. She has really long thin fingers, and 9 times out of ten they are ice cold. She also has several scars from weapons training.

Ibuki Mioda - (They/She, pansexual) Built like a board. Just no hips or chest to spare, but they prefer a more androgynous style anyway, as is popular in the scene. Always has raccoon eyes, and will rub or picked at her face, smearing them in the process. Septum and tongue piercings and stretched lobes. Also has light acne scars.

Hiyoko Saonji - (She/Her, Lesbian) Looks like she’s 12. Her hair is very reactive to humidity and she is prone to turning into a poodle if it gets wet. Has a sizable front tooth gap, which only serves to make her look more childish.

Mikan Tsumiki - (She/Her, bisexual-female pref) She is plus sized and has wider hips, which she bumps into stuff with all the time. She has a round face and a button nose, which are always rosy pink, because of how often she is crying. Just chronically puffy eyes.

Gundam Tanaka - (They/Them, pansexual) They are kind of average/slim and don’t have much in the way of muscle. There’s just not as much under those robes as you might expect. Wears corpse paint and other trad goth makeup often but hates going out without at least using a light/white foundation. Black lipstick is a must for special occasions, and they always carry at least one lint roller to maintain their perfect black clothes with the hammies. Has a septum piercing and stretched lobes.

Nekomaru Nidai-(He/Him, Bisexual, female pref) Obviously built like a Greek god. Is very particular about his manscaping, and you bet your ass his fades are always on point. His hands are so fucking huge and blocky that it’s almost comical to see him holding someone else’s hand. His chest is hairy, and he has eyebrow and nipple piercings.

Nagito Komaeda - (He/They, gay) The man is dying of cancer. He is deathly pale and skinny. If he wasn’t a wacko, any sane person would be concerned for him. His hair is dry and coarse, in an over processed bleach kind of way. Has dark circles and yellowing teeth. Somehow though, he still manages to have a smooth, soft baby face and unnaturally clear skin. Is lacking in the eyebrow department, but has white double lashes on Satoru Gojo’s level.

Chiaki Nanami - (She/Her, pan) She is chubby. Like not just on the cusp of plus size, but a few sizes deep. Has stretch marks on her hips, chest, and stomach. Pale skin and puffy eyes from poor sleeping habits. American girl doll teeth and frizzy hair from falling asleep on random surfaces.

Kazuichi Souda (He/They, bisexual female pref) Has a bit of pudge from eating processed junk all the time, but doesn’t seem to mind. He had braces as a kid, so his teeth are perfectly straight and really the only tight laced thing about the guy. Has shaved sides and hates washing his hair, so he uses the beanie to cover up the greasy bits and his little black roots when they grow out. Breaks out easily, and has some acne scars. Pierced nostrils, tongue, and stretched ears.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu - (He/Him FtM, ace spec?) Kind of scrawny and will just never be tall. Freckles on his shoulders and back. Has a tiny amount of peach fuzz over his top lip and is really hoping it will start to fill in. Blonde eyebrows that are barely visible to begin with, that he still insists on shaving slits into. Pierced ears.

Sonia Nevermind - (She/Her, pansexual) Petite all around. Dainty little hands and the softest skin. Very fine hair, and like Fuyuhiko, she is a bit lacking in eyebrow definition, but she has to fill them in. Has a small upturned nose and definitely does the princess peach lip thing.

Akane Owari - (She/Her, pansexual) Muscular and thick all over. As much as she definitely has abs, having them visibly defined is generally speaking, not healthy for most women, so they’re under a smooth soft tummy. She has a wider button nose and full lips that she would love to put gloss on if it didn’t interfere with her snacking. Has somewhat crooked teeth and her hair is consistently tangled.

Hajime Hinata - (He/Him, pansexual) Buff arms. All around pretty stocky but not fat. Stubby thick hands. Tans easily and has the worst farmers’ tan from his stupid polo shirt. Gets freckles across his nose when he’s in the sun a lot. He has bushy eyebrows that could use some attention and thick lips.

[leopardfang15]

A little present for the awesome @racfoam with Harriet and Voldemort. We’ve been chatting and I got inspired. Fun fact, swing dancing was very popular when Voldemort was young.

The portraits outside the ballroom at Malfoy manor were no doubt either confused or enraged beyond all reason. Big band jazz music was blaring throughout the massive room. Death Eaters and the Malfoy’s stood under the grand, crystal chandeliers as the Dark Lord and Girl-Who-Lived spun around each other with quick feet, swing dancing.

It was a popular dance when Voldemort was young. He learned when he’d spend his days wandering London in the summer during his Hogwarts years. He always spent as little time as possible at the Orphanage and old Mrs Cole wouldn’t be caught dead in the dance halls and jazz clubs in London. Even if she did decide to go hunting for him she’d never brace the dance floor. The best place for him to avoid the gaze of that miserable old hag was in the crowd of dancing couples. The fact that swing dancing ended up being kind of fun was just a bonus.

Though now, dancing with Harriet, who had a massive smile lighting up her face, it was the most fun Voldemort had had in a long time. Perhaps the most fun he’d ever had. The only reason Harriet even knew that Voldemort could swing dance was because she once walked into his room and found him listening to a record player playing big band jazz music. She’d never expected him to like music at all (especially after her little trick with her rock music) and if he did she would’ve expected nothing but classical. Seemed the Dark Lord still surprised her. She asked about the jazz music and how he grew to like it. Before she knew it Voldemort was out of his robes, into some trousers and showing her the basics of swing.

Now her low heeled shoes clacked on the ball room floor and her knee length, black skirt fanned out around her as she twirled. She also wore solid black leggings under her dress. Normally she wouldn't but she didn’t feel too comfortable showing too much leg around the Death Eaters due to the high energy dance. All attention was on them once the music changed and the other couples vacated the floor. Voldemort wasn’t complaining. Harriet was so lost in dancing with the red eyed man she almost missed her step when he spoke without looking away from her.

“Got something you’d like to say, Lucius?” Voldemort asked, stepping around Harriet as he twirled her so they were now dancing on opposite sides.

Their host startled, not realizing his lord would even notice the bewildered look on his face. Lucius cleared his throat to give himself a moment so he could gather his thoughts and his nerve. He wasn’t sure how the dark lord would react to this but he hoped the other man would be too distracted by his soulmate to start casting Crucios. “I’m simply surprised, my lord. I didn’t expect you to know any muggle dances, let alone one so… energetic.” Not to mention the fact that his lord was wearing a muggle suit. Not like one could do such moves in robes anyway.

Voldemort scoffed. “Please, your father spent two weeks incessantly begging me to teach him how to do this.” He twirled Harriet out before pulling her back to him. Using her momentum he pulled her back in and spun her around his body before setting her back on her feet. Harriet’s bright eyes and the sight of her hair slipping from her ponytail almost distracted him from Lucius.

“What?” Lord Malfoy asked, face revealing the depths of his surprise. Oh Abraxas would’ve been so disappointed at the unfettered emotion on Lucius’s face. “Forgive me my lord but when would my father have ever seen you do this?”

Voldemort almost rolled his eyes. “There was a function my sixth year at Hogwarts and a Pureblood Gryffindor I disliked had been rather irritating the entire night. Seeing as how I couldn’t curse him in front of the teachers I decided to pull his muggleborn girlfriend onto the dance floor and show her what real dancing was.” He said with a smirk, remembering the boy’s face as he tossed his date in the air.

Harriet was snickering. “And how long did those two stay dating?”

“Not very long.” Voldemort smirked, dipping Harriet low when she jumped into his arms. “Though as a result of my little performance I had numerous students coming up to me at all hours of the day asking for dance lessons. Abraxas being the most incessant and vocal. I eventually taught him as a reward for scaring off everyone else.”

“Why would my father want to learn?” Lucius asked.

“Your mother in particular was quite impressed with the show.” He paused his story as Harriet pressed her back to his. He then knelt down, allowing Harriet to roll over his back and end up in front of him again. “You know, Abraxas wasn’t supposed to marry your mother. He was engaged to a girl two years behind him, Melody Parkinson. I believe your mother was to marry a Carrow. Not only that, but Talia Rosier wouldn’t give Abraxas the time of day.”

It was difficult to hear over the music but there were several snickers coming from various Death Eaters. Lucius himself was beginning to look more and more ridiculous, his grey eyes were so wide one may worry they might pop out of his head.

“In any event, I allowed your father to practice with me; picking me up, tossing me and catching me. Abraxas quickly learned that dropping me would be worse than dropping Talia.” No one needed to guess what the punishment for dropping the Dark Lord was.

“Once I declared him passable he renewed his chase of Talia. I don’t care to know how he convinced her to dance with him but seeing as how your here, Lucius, it’s clear that my dance lessons were instrumental in Abraxas getting the woman he wanted.” Voldemort smirked. “In fact, during my best man speech at their wedding I took full credit for the event. Now I believe I’ll take full credit for your existence.”

There was outright laughter at the sight of Lucius’s dropped jaw now, even from Harriet. Bellatrix’s loud cackling was heard the most over the music. Voldemort was too focused on Harriet to notice, though.

[wild-karrde]

One Step at a Time - Part 13

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: ALRIGHT STRAP IN KIDS. Please heed the warnings on this one if you have any material you find triggering. This one is QUITE a ride. As always, thank you to the STUPENDOUS @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta reading this for me!

Chapter Rating: E

Warnings: PiV sex, language, canon-typical violence, suicide, character death

Word Count: 8.8k words

Life was good. As good as it had ever been in all the time Chuckles could remember. 

There was a comfort that came with falling into a routine. Chuckles would drop the kids off at school in the mornings, go to work in the mine, and then return in the evening to walk Arni and Nita home from school. Sometimes they’d stop by Grinz’s to stock up, sometimes Helly, Anj, and occasionally Lu would come over for dinner, and sometimes it would be just the three of them before the kids would go to bed. 

Then, Chuckles would head to Endi’s apartment. 

Those visits varied in how they started, but always ended the same: with Chuckles fucking Endi like it was what he’d looked forward to all day. Everything still felt so new and exciting, and the two of them could hardly keep their hands off one another. They did their best to fit some casual conversation in, asking one another about their day and talking about mundane things like the weather, allowing the tension to grow and blossom until it snapped. 

Tonight, Endi had invited Chuckles over under the pretense of sharing a pie she’d baked that day after school. He’d appeared on her doorstep in the dark, and she’d answered the door in a short, satiny robe that didn’t appear to have anything underneath. Chuckles had waited patiently, sitting across from her in her kitchen as she set a plate in front of him, carefully placing a dollop of fresh cream on the flaky crust. He’d eaten slowly as she watched and made idle conversation, never breaking eye contact as he licked his fork clean. 

As soon as the last crumb had disappeared and the plates had been cleared away, Chuckles had grabbed Endi with a playful growl and pulled her robe open, confirming his suspicions that she was wearing nothing underneath. She’d giggled breathlessly and he’d groaned as his hands squeezed her breasts, his lips finding the curve of her shoulder and sucking a bruise into her skin before he bent her over the table and buried himself inside of her in one stroke. The table creaked underneath them as he set a frantic pace, the legs scraping against the hard floor until the tabletop was bumping against the wall with every snap of Chuckles’s hips. He stared down at where they were joined and smirked. 

“Fuck, your pussy’s creamy tonight, Endoline,” he growled, admiring the white coating her cunt was leaving on his shaft between strokes. “Could have dipped my fingers in you and topped my pie with this instead.” His cock glistened in the kitchen light as he withdrew for a moment before slamming back into her with an echoing slap that drew a moan from her. “You think about me today, sweetheart?”

“All… all day,” she stuttered out. 

“Did you touch yourself?”

“N-no. Wanted t-to wait for you.” 

He leaned over her, caging her in as he planted his palms on either side of her on the tabletop. Some sweat trickled down the tip of his nose, dripping onto the skin between her shoulder blades. Chuckles ran his tongue along her spine, swiping away the moisture as he tasted the salt of her sweat-slicked skin. 

“Good girl,” he rasped. “Was it worth the wait?”

She shuddered underneath him. “Gods above, yes.” 

Chuckles grinned as he gripped her hips and readjusted his angle, easily finding the place inside of her that he’d become well-acquainted with over the last month and a half, and within moments, he had her coming undone beneath him. Endi collapsed on the table as he finished inside of her, barely managing to brace his palms against the wooden surface again as his cock slipped from her. Some of his spend dribbled back out from between the swollen lips of her cunt, spattering on the floor. 

“Looks… looks like we made a mess,” Endi panted with a dopey grin on her face, turning her head to meet his gaze over her shoulder. 

Chuckles huffed a laugh before leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. 

“Well then we’d better get ourselves cleaned up, huh?”

He wiped the evidence of their activities off of the floor quickly before scooping Endi into his arms and carrying her to her small refresher. It was only slightly larger than the one on the Starlight, but it did have a decent-sized bathtub pushed into one corner, which Chuckles filled with hot water before helping Endi in. Stripping off his clothes, he stepped in behind her, settling down and pulling her back against his chest. He pressed his hands to her stomach under the water, pulling her close and inhaling deeply into her hair. 

“Missed you today,” he whispered. 

This had become part of his routine too, and he enjoyed it almost as much as the sex. Almost.

“You just saw me last night,” she teased, reaching for a hair tie and starting to pile her hair on top of her head. 

“Let me,” Chuckles said, taking the thin band from her hand. Gently, he gathered her dark curls, combing through them carefully with his fingers until he had managed to smooth out the bumps and ridges in her hair. 

“You’ve been practicing,” she hummed. 

“What do you mean been practicing?” Chuckles giggled. “This is the practice. You’re far more patient than Nita will ever be. But I’ve at least gotten alright at doing buns.” 

“Are they even when you do two of them?”

“Still working on that,” he muttered, and Endi laughed in response. 

“You’ll get it.”

“And until then, I have Arni.”

Chuckles tied her hair up before leaning forward to kiss the back of her neck, squeezing her tightly again. Endi leaned back against him, sinking lower into the water so she could rest her head against his shoulder. She took his hand between hers, rubbing at some of the dust and grime that had settled into his callouses from the mine. 

“Something’s bothering you,” she noted quietly. 

Chuckles sighed. A lot of things were bothering him, but he wasn’t certain how many he wanted to burden her with. Everything had been easy so far, with the two of them still figuring one another out and how they fit together. There’d be time to talk about all of the secrets he kept locked away and the deeper topics, but at least for now, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement to just have fun with one another. He picked through his long list of concerns, choosing a more trivial one to reveal. 

“Nita’s birthday is next week,” he sighed. 

“And you’ve got it all planned well in advance,” Endi countered. “You’ve met all of her demands, and I think she’s going to be terribly excited to get her own bed.” 

After some debate, Chuckles had decided to reveal the decorated and furnished cargo hold to the younglings for Nita’s birthday. The deliveries had lined up almost perfectly with the date, and as long as Grinz could track down some bedding this week, everything would be in order. He knew the little Pantoran was going to love it, on top of all of the other gifts she was getting. A surprise would have been impossible; Nita had practically been counting the days since Arni’s birthday party, and she had very specific expectations for her own celebration. Luckily, none of them had been too far-fetched, and the only one Chuckles had said ‘no’ to was a pet tooka. Nita had been disappointed, but that had been short-lived as she’d moved on to planning the types of snacks she’d wanted, and Grinz had promised to deliver on every item. Endi had even promised to make the cream puffs Nita has become enamored with in the last few months, which may have been the real achievement that overshadowed the tooka debacle.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “As always.” He gripped her hand, pulling it to his lips and brushing a kiss over her knuckles.

“Are you nervous about telling them about us then?” 

They still hadn’t disclosed their relationship to Arni and Nita, but Chuckles knew the time for that discussion was fast approaching. Arni was starting to question where he went at night, and had even caught him sneaking home once just before dawn. They hadn’t directly asked him about it, but he didn’t want to feel like he was lying to them. He and Endi had talked about the right time to tell them, and they’d decided to do it after Nita’s birthday so as not to take away from the day. Deep down, Chuckles had also wanted to wait until after just in case the kids didn’t take it well. There was no reason to think they wouldn’t; by all accounts, they enjoyed school and liked their teacher. But he still couldn’t shake off all the nerves. 

“Not as nervous as I was, but not completely settled,” he admitted. 

“So what’s got you wound so tightly?” Endi asked, switching to his other hand and massaging his joints with her thumbs. “You feel as though you’ve got something on your mind.”

A twinge of guilt twisted his gut. 

Am I ruining my time with her? 

He rested his chin on top of her head. “I’m sorry if I’ve been distracted.”

“You don’t need to apologize. Or talk about it if you don’t want to. I just want to be supportive if I can.” 

Chuckles flushed with heat that made the water feel cool. Slipping his finger under her chin, he gently tilted her head towards him, raising her lips to his and pecking them lightly. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” 

“You’re deflecting with flattery.”

“You’re not supposed to notice that.”

“Chuckles.” 

He sighed, unsure of how to broach the topic. As well as things were going, he still wasn’t ready to tell Endi everything. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, it just didn’t feel like the right time yet. He wanted to wait until he was more certain of how she’d react. Finding out you were sleeping with a traitor to the Empire who happened to be harboring two Jedi youngling fugitives wasn’t exactly something that could be taken lightly. In fact, chances were good it would completely upend her life. 

The time would come where he’d be ready to tell her, he was sure of it. He felt that he owed her that honesty if things got serious enough, to the point where they were building a life together. He’d told Ry and Oks after all. But that was definitely a discussion for another day, even if that secret was connected to what was bothering him right now. 

“The one year anniversary of the end of the war is coming up,” he said quietly, choosing his words carefully. There had been rumors that the Imperials were planning a galaxy-wide holiday to commemorate the day, and the thought of celebrating at all turned Chuckles’s stomach. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how the kids felt about it. 

Endi nodded, seemingly choosing her words cautiously as well. “I imagine that was quite a day for you, even being discharged.” 

You have no idea.

“It was,” he agreed. “There’s…a lot of memories there. And for the kids, it’ll be a reminder of them losing their family.” 

“And them gaining a new one in you,” Endi said softly. “Maybe you choose to celebrate that rather than dwell on the bad memories. Celebrate the brothers that you lost and all they fought for. And celebrate your family coming together.” 

Chuckles mulled through it in his mind. It was an approach he hadn’t considered. “That’s not a half-bad idea,” he said. “I think the kids will like that.” He kissed her again, deeper this time, and he felt her quiver slightly as he pulled her close. “Thank you,” he mumbled against her lips. 

“That’s what partners are for,” she replied. 

“Is that what we are?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re my only suitor.” 

“Not the only suitor,” he countered. “There are plenty in this town that make eyes at you, whether or not you know it. And I can’t say that I blame them.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, then you’re the only suitor I’m interested in. And the only one I’ve shared a bed with.” She turned, straddling his lap, and he felt his cock brush her core. His hands rested on her hips as he hardened underneath her. The water lapped at the sides of the tub, disturbed from the rocking of Endi’s hips as she rubbed against his length. “You’re the only suitor that’s ever been in this tub with me, and you’re the only one I’m asking to fuck me.”

“Are you asking, Endoline?” The head of his cock caught at her entrance, and he held her still, gently flexing his hips so that the tip breached her cunt just enough to make her mouth fall open. 

“Please,” she whined. “Please take me again.”

He pulled her down onto him, spearing her on his length. Some of the water splashed over the edge of the tub, and she tipped her head back with a moan. 

“We’re going to make another mess,” she teased breathlessly. 

He leaned forward, cradling her ass as his tongue flicked against her nipple, sending another rippling shudder through her. 

“Good.”

—

“It’s PERFECT!” 

Chuckles released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as Nita squealed with delight, her golden eyes sparkling as she took in the party decorations. He, Endi, Anj, Helly, and Lu had gotten up incredibly early to decorate the outside of the Starlight and set up for Nita’s birthday celebration. While Chuck and Lu had strung streamers and decorations from the side of the ship, creating a sort of outdoor canopy, Endi had put the finishing touches on the baked goods she’d pulled together the night before. At the same time, Helly and Anj had snuck down to the hold to put the finishing touches on the younglings’ new bedroom. They’d managed to sneak back up to the kitchenette and brew some caf just before Nita came marching in, clearly ready to face the day. She was so excited, they’d immediately taken her outside for an inspection, which she conducted thoroughly before clapping her hands excitedly, dancing around in the dirt and giggling. 

She hadn’t wanted anything large in terms of attendance; just a few of her friends from school, Arni, and the sleepy adults that were now sipping caf with relieved smiles. Nita ran to each of them, hugging them hard and shouting her thanks. She slammed into Lu with such a force that she almost knocked the mug of caf from his hand, but he recovered, giving her one of his rare, quiet smiles. 

“Not a bad decorations job for a demolitions expert,” Chuckles joked, nudging Lu with a shoulder. 

Lu smiled quietly, shrugging his shoulders as Nita released him. Anj was more prepared for Nita’s embrace, squatting down and bracing herself as the little Pantoran flew into her arms. 

“Glad you like it, Little Star,” she chuckled, tousling Nita’s silver curls. “Now let’s go get Hells to braid your hair the way you like before everyone gets here.” 

Helly had been experimenting with different styles for Nita’s hair, and the little Pantoran seemed to love sitting while Helly’s nimble and gentle fingers wove intricate braids and patterns into her silver tresses. Today, Helly had brought some fresh flowers to weave into the braids, and Nita sat on a stool, swinging her legs as Helly worked. Arni was watching carefully, asking questions so they could try to recreate it later. Chuckles leaned against the wall, smiling into his cup as he watched his family. 

Settled. Finally.

A warm hand pressed against the small of his back. 

“Want a top off?” Endi asked quietly. 

Chuckles offered her his cup, and she emptied the rest of the caf press into it. “Thanks,” he whispered. 

“You did great pulling this together,” she said softly. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you all,” he replied. “And now, I might have a real bed to sleep in tonight for the first time in a year.” 

“That reminds me. I’ve got something for you.”

Chuckles raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but Endi beckoned him back to the kitchenette. He followed, setting his mug on the small countertop. Endi crouched down, digging in her bag until she pulled out a parcel that was wrapped with ribbons. She handed it to him with a small smile.

“For you.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

She shrugged, and he smirked before opening it. Inside, there were two sets of sheets, and when he ran his thumb over the fabric, Chuckles knew it would be the softest thing he’d ever slept on. One set was a dark red and one a light blue, and he glanced up at her. She ducked her head shyly.

“Consider it a housewarming gift. Well, I guess a bedwarming…” her voice drifted off, and she flushed as she realized what she’d said. 

Chuck glanced out the door for a moment, confirming no one was paying attention before he closed the distance between them, pinning her against the table she was leaning against. His knuckle slipped under her chin, and he grinned as the purple flush in her cheeks grew deeper, highlighting her freckles. 

“I’ve got a better idea of how you can warm my bed, Endoline. Not that I don’t appreciate the sheets.” 

“Chuckles,” she gasped, her voice hitching slightly as he nuzzled against her throat. 

“I may save these until the first time you sleep over, so we can break them in together,” he rasped into her ear, her curls tickling his nose. He felt her shudder as his hand slid around the back of her neck. He pressed his lips against her pulsepoint and felt it hammering. He grinned. 

“Endoline, I-”

“Nita’s asking if you’re ready to go outside and play games.”

Endi and Chuckles flew apart. Endi turned her back, straightening her clothes and smoothing her hair, trying to hide her face. Chuckles met Arni’s gaze, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks as he hurriedly wiped his mouth. The young Twi’lek’s gaze flicked between the two of them, and they ducked their head. 

“Yeah. That’s great. We’ll be right there, kid,” Chuck managed, suddenly feeling winded. 

Arni nodded, turning and hurriedly making their exit. Chuckles could hear everyone else exiting the ship, and when the noise faded with their departure, he turned and met Endi’s eyes. The two of them burst into nervous giggles at the same time, Chuckles rubbing his neck as Endi covered her face to muffle her laughter. 

“I think it’s safe to say we’ve been found out,” she said, her voice muffled behind her hands. 

Chuckles smiled, pulling her hands from her flushed face and resting his forehead against hers. 

“If anyone was going to figure it out, it was going to be Arni anyway.” He sighed, letting out a nervous giggle of his own. “Seems like it might be time to let them both in on the secret.” 

Her golden eyes searched his. “Are you alright with that?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly. He brought her hands up to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “No more hiding?”

“No more hiding,” she agreed. “But let’s wait until after the party. I don’t want anything to take away from Nita’s day.”

Chuckles grinned, but something about the way Arni had looked at the two of them was nagging at him. He buried it quickly, taking Endi’s hand and leading her outside. 

—

The party went off without a hitch. By the end of it, Chuckles was almost worried Nita wouldn’t stay awake long enough to see the new bedroom. Her eyelids were drooping as she bid her guests farewell, but she wore a satisfied smile. His heart warmed as she made the rounds again to thank everyone that had helped set things up, and he could see her confusion when they didn’t leave along with her friends.

“Better move fast or she won’t be awake to appreciate it,” Anj teased him with a nudge. 

“You’re right,” he agreed. He roared playfully, scooping Nita into his arms, and she squealed with surprise, breaking into a fit of giggles. 

“Can’t go to sleep yet, Honey. We’ve got one more surprise for you. Arni too.” 

The Twi’lek paused mid-bite of a creampuff, eyes widening in curiosity. 

“Come on,” Chuck said, reaching an arm out for them. “Let’s go show you before little one nods off.” Arni slipped under his arm, and the three of them headed back into the ship, followed by Lu, Anj, Helly, and Endi. 

Chuckles felt Nita stiffen when she figured out where they were going. 

“That place is scary, Chuckles,” she murmured. 

“It’s not as scary anymore,” he replied, keying the unlock code to the door. “Chased out all the ghosts with Anj.” 

“You promise?”

He offered her his pinky, and she took it, interlocking it with hers. Chuckles set her on the floor, and he could see her steeling herself as the door hissed open. He nudged her inside, pulling Arni in behind them before slapping on the lights. 

All of Nita and Arni’s nerves evaporated, immediately replaced with wonder as the glass decorations glinted in the light cast by the strings that were woven back and forth over the ceiling of the hold. Nita ran to the edge of the railing, looking down into the new bedroom. Two bed were pushed against the opposite walls with their own sets of sheets and pillows. The middle had a large rug, already covered with the gifts Nita had received at her party. Lu and Helly had quietly whisked them away and set them up while Nita was distracted. 

It was apparent which side was meant for which youngling. One had a small desk with Arni’s colored pencils, journals, and datapad neatly placed on its surface. On the shelves above their bed sat several specimens Helly had donated after noting Arni’s interest in them. The stone Endi had given them was placed on the nightstand next to the bed. Nita’s side was decorated with flowers and stars that hung over her bed in an array. A small cupboard that Lu had built sat against the wall, the inside stocked with some of her favorite snacks. Her trooper doll laid against the pillow. Lu had also built matching sets of drawers, which contained the sets of clothing that they’d accrued during their time together. Chuckles had worried that the large space would seem sparse, but the sheer joy on the two younglings’ faces put his face at ease. He owed more favors than he could count and would be paying Grinz back through odd jobs for a while, but it was all worth it. 

“Is… is this ours?” Arni asked hesitantly. 

“All yours,” Chuckles confirmed. “Room for you two to grow into. And no one will be elbowing anyone else or leaving crumbs in the other’s sleeping space.” 

Arni’s arms were around him in an instant, their face buried in his chest as they hugged him hard. Nita wrapped herself around his right leg, stepping on his toes in the process, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as he hugged them both back. 

“Anj, Helly, Lu, and Endi all helped with this. Grinz too,” he said. “Couldn’t have done it without them.” 

The two younglings immediately flew to the other adults, thanking them and hugging them. Chuckles watched Arni and noted they were a little stiff when they hugged Endi. 

Probably just because they caught us earlier. Maybe telling them both will ease that tension so Arni doesn’t feel like they need to keep it a secret.

“Well, let’s not all stand here gawking. Let’s go get your stuff out of the old bed so you can put it in your new room!” Anj crowed, and the two younglings were off like a shot, squealing as they raced back down the hallway. 

They spent the next hour moving the children into their new room, Anj and Lu helping while Helly and Endi put things away and Chuck showed them all the new items with pride. The adrenaline was short-lived for Nita, and Chuck could see her eyeing her new bed. The other adults took their cue, bidding the kids one last good night before filing out. Chuckles caught Endi’s eye from across the room, and she nodded, giving him a wink. 

Now’s as good a time as any I suppose.

Chuckles waited until it was just him, Endi, and the younglings. He could see Arni glance between the two of them nervously. Nita was too busy cataloging her snacks to notice anything out of the ordinary. 

Chuckles cleared his throat. 

“I… I’ve got something I’d like to tell the two of you, if that’s alright.”

Nita turned to look at him, her hand already in a bag of Cinnamon Poppers. Arni straightened.

“I know at least one of you has already pieced this together, but I wanted to be upfront about it. Now that it… well, it seems to be going well.” He was suddenly nervous, and Endi came to his side. Her presence calmed him, and he felt her hand on his back again. He wet his lips and continued. “You two are my family, and it’s important to me that we’re honest with each other about things, so I want you to know if there’s another person that’s important to me.” He let his hand slide down and find Endi’s as he turned to meet her gaze. “And in the last few months, Teacher Endi has become pretty important to me. We’ve been spending some time together, and I’d like to spend more with her around the two of you. If that’s alright.” 

Nita’s eyes were wide as she chewed her snacks. Arni was still watching the two of them carefully. 

“Are you in love?” Nita finally asked. 

Chuck’s face felt hot as he fumbled for words. “I… we… well…”

“Your father and I are still figuring out how we feel about one another,” Endi cut in. “It’s still early, but we care very much for one another. I like him quite a bit.” 

Chuckles shot her a grateful look, and she winked at him, squeezing his hand gently in reassurance.

He turned to face the younglings, his family. His palms were sweating. “So?”

Nita stared for a moment before breaking into a fit of excited giggles. She ran forward, hugging Endi tightly around the waist. Endi didn’t hesitate for a moment, hugging her back. Chuck turned to Arni. When they saw him looking at them, they hurriedly stepped forward and hugged Endi as well, just as stiffly as earlier. Chuckles’s brow furrowed in concern. 

If Endi noticed, she didn’t say anything. As the younglings shuffled off to get ready for bed, she turned to Chuckles. 

“Thank you for a lovely time. And for this.” 

“You’re not staying?”

She smiled, resting her hand against his cheek. “You’ve just dropped a lot on them. I think seeing me at breakfast would be rather jarring, don’t you?” 

He huffed, resting his forehead against hers. 

“You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

“It’s a requirement for the job,” she teased. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “Good night, Chuckles.”

“Good night, Endoline.” 

The two younglings returned as Endi slipped out the door, and Chuckles tucked them both in. Nita was asleep before her head could even warm the pillow, her trooper doll tucked under one arm. Chuckles waited until she was snoring to sit next to Arni on their bed. They had their light still on, their latest sketchbook balanced on their knees. As Chuckles sat down beside them, he caught a glimpse of Anj’s sharp teeth and Helly’s bright eyes, easily recognizable as Arni depicted them, carefully shading each of Anj’s tendrils. 

“That from today?” 

They nodded. “They seemed really happy. Like you and Endi.” 

Chuckles scooted closer until their shoulders were touching. “I think they are. But that’s still a secret.” 

Arni nodded again but didn’t say anything. Chuckles felt himself grow nervous again. “Are… are you happy about this kid? You seem like something’s on your mind.” 

Their pencil paused on the page, and he could practically hear the gears turning in their head. “It was just… I didn’t expect it, I guess. And I don’t think I ever considered what it would be like if you had someone. Not th-that you can’t. I want you to be happy. I just never thought about what it would feel like.”

“How does it feel?”

They finally looked up at him. “Just… different. Something to get used to.” 

There was something that they weren’t saying. Chuckles wasn’t sure if they just couldn’t articulate it correctly or if they didn’t want to, but either way, he knew better than to push. Arni would come around in time if they felt it was important enough to share. His heart fell slightly, his worries not really assuaged. 

Endi was right to go home. The kid needs some time to adjust. Maybe we all do.

“Are you happy?” 

Arni’s question surprised him, and when he looked at them again, their brown eyes were wide, expectant, watching him carefully. 

“I am,” he replied. “And not just because of Endi. But she is a factor in that.” 

Arni nodded, clearly turning the information over in their mind before reaching a conclusion.“Then I’m happy for you, Chuckles. You deserve to be happy.”

“Are you happy, Arni?”

They gave him a small smile. “Of course.” 

The way they said it, as if it were a given, unsettled Chuckles slightly. It felt like they were satisfying an expectation rather than being honest, but the young Twi’lek had already turned back to their sketchbook, their pencil scraping across the drawing once more, clearly considering the matter settled. 

The won’t want you to push. Something to keep an eye on. Another conversation for a different time.

Chuckles ruffled their lekku before pulling them into a hug. “G’night, kid. Don’t stay up too late.” 

“Night,” they replied. 

Chuckles shuffled up the stairs and to the bunk, unwrapping the light blue set of sheets. As he shook them out, he was immediately inundated with the familiar, gentle scent of vanilla and perfume. Bringing the sheets to his nose, he inhaled deeply, grinning into the fabric. 

They smelled like her. 

A scrap of flimsi fluttered to the floor from where it had been tucked into the folded sheet. He picked it up, his smile widening as he read the words. 

When they stop smelling like me, let me know. I’ll come over and renew it so you don’t miss me. 

- Endi

—-

The one year anniversary of the Republic’s fall, or Empire Day as it was apparently being called, approached faster than Chuckles could have anticipated. As predicted, the galaxy was preparing celebrations to mark the day. Many of the miners and their families were planning to head into the nearby capital city to observe the celebrations. Endi had tried to get Chuckles to go, thinking that the ceremonies and parades would give the children better memories, but when he’d still declined, she’d been understanding. He’d pushed her to go on her own, not wanting to weigh her down or make her feel like she had to stay behind because of him, and he was relieved when she finally relented. 

“Just don’t let any of your other suitors charm you while you’re up there,” he teased in bed one night as they lay snuggled together. It was the third time she’d slept on the Starlight and the first night they’d had the ship to themselves, Arni and Nita being out stargazing and camping with one of their classmate’s family. Chuckles and Endi had taken full advantage of the quiet, and now lay curled around one another as the sheets stuck to their sweaty skin. 

Endi pushed her curls out of her eyes to poke him in the ribs. “How many times do I have to assure you that you’re the only one I’m interested in?” she teased. 

“Yeah, but I’m also the one being the downer about the celebration.”

“I told you already; I understand. Take care of Arni and Nita. We’ll have time when I get back.”

His chest had bloomed with warmth before he’d rolled Endi underneath him and taken her again. 

How did I get so lucky?

He prayed to whatever deities were listening that luck would be on his side again today, the one year anniversary of his world and Arni and Nita’s being turned on its head. Chuckles was terrified of saying the wrong thing, of mentioning something that would rip old wounds open. The kids hadn’t said anything to him, but he had noted a slight stoop to Arni’s shoulders, as if the weight of the day had slowly grown as it approached. Nita still bubbled about, but there was something that seemed forced about it, as if keeping a smile on her face would keep everything else she was feeling at bay.

It would clearly be impossible to just pretend it was a normal day. The town was mostly empty, school canceled in observance of the “holiday”. Most of their friends had disappeared with their parents to the city to watch the parades. The mine was closed as well, and most of the miners had left to join the celebrations as well. 

The kids woke, ate breakfast, and then went outside to play. Chuck felt as though he was going through the motions, showering, making caf, and settling into the seat to watch the kids out of the front viewport. 

I can’t believe it’s been a year.

The younglings both looked as though they were putting up a good front for one another, but after all of their time together, Chuckles could easily see the weight on their shoulders. Nita’s smiles were half-hearted at best, and Arni seemed so weighed down, it looked like they might topple over at any moment. He thought about what Endi had said about how to frame the events surrounding that day. It wasn’t a bad idea, but he felt that he should save it for if things got dire, the eject handle if emotions ran high. He wasn’t certain how the two younglings marked the anniversary in their minds. He’d tried to remember how he’d thought of major changes as a cadet, but everything had been a milestone, another step towards becoming a soldier. Life on Kamino had been controlled, no days truly unpredictable.

Well, at least until a Jedi had shown up looking like a drowned tooka in his soaked robes and sopping hair, asking questions that had sent rumors rippling through the ranks. 

But even then, it was noteworthy because of its strangeness, not due to anything traumatic. All of that would come during the war, but when the fighting started, every moment of note felt like one of grief. 

Except for TP winning that homebrew contest in the barracks. Except for that time Crater told me he considered me his second in command. Except for when Howzer got promoted. 

Except for when Brienna kissed me for the first time in the cockpit of my Headhunter. 

He huffed into his caf. 

More than enough bad, but plenty of good sprinkled in too. 

He realized that was what had kept him going, the little bits of good in all of the bad. And he knew then that the conversation with Arni and Nita couldn’t wait. 

That day was simultaneously terrible and great because I found them. And I need them to focus on the good rather than wallowing in the bad memories and letting them weight them down. We can grieve, but I also don’t want them to get stuck in it. 

Like I did after I lost Crater and most of my squad. 

Tipping the last dregs of his caf into his mouth, he went to place the empty cup in the kitchenette. When he turned, he found the two younglings trudging inside. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Too cold,” Nita muttered. Arni was silent, clutching their journal. 

“Alright, family meeting,” Chuckles declared, sitting at the small table. The two younglings stared at him for a moment before shuffling onto the bench across from him. Brown and golden eyes watched him expectantly. He could see the sadness there, and it made his heart clench and strengthened his determination to take some of their weight.

“I figure let’s talk about the bantha in the room. We’re all thinking it. And I don’t want us moping around all day because of it. Today’s hard.” 

He internally cringed, feeling like he was a captain giving a pep talk to his ranks. That wasn’t how he wanted to do this. Leaning forward, he reached his hands across the table, palms up. It took a moment, but Nita and Arni both reached out and gripped his hands. 

“It’s hard, remembering what happened to us a year ago. It was awful, and every day I wish I could take that burden from you two. But I want you to know that I’m also grateful for some things that happened that day.”

“Like what?” Nita asked.

“Well, I’m glad Arni didn’t stab me with their lightsaber,” he started, and a hint of a smile tugged at the young Twi’lek’s lips. “I’m glad you both trusted me enough to come with me. I’m glad my chip didn’t activate and I was able to get the two of you out.” He squeezed their hands. “But above all, I’m grateful that I survived long enough to find the two of you. That we became a family. That we chose a name and have survived together. We’ve made a life for ourselves.” His voice cracked unexpectedly. “I had a family, but I always wondered what it would look like after the war, if all of my brothers would go their separate ways and I’d be left alone. I’m glad I’m not. I’m glad I have the two of you.” 

Nita sniffled, hopping off the bench and coming around to climb into Chuckles’s lap and throw her arms around his neck. 

“There was so much scary stuff that day. And I’m glad you found us too. And that Arni didn’t kill you.” 

Chuckles looked over the top of Nita’s head at Arni. They had tears running down their cheeks. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “It’s ok to feel sad. Or angry.”

“It’s just… how can they celebrate?” Arni whispered. It was the angriest he’d ever heard them. “Our friends were killed. For nothing. The Empire is tearing down everything the Republic built. How can we celebrate that?”

“Come here, kid,” Chuckles said quietly, scooting to the end of the bench. Arni came around the table, close enough to where Chuckles could awkwardly get an arm around them as well. He touched his forehead to theirs and then Nita’s. “There’s a lot of bad, but I want today to be a day for us. So, we’re not celebrating the Empire, we’re celebrating the day we became a family. I think that’s worth commemorating. What do you think?” 

Arni wrapped their arms around his chest, resting their head on his shoulder. “I think I’d like that.” 

“How do we do that?” Nita asked. 

“Well, we play games together. We eat good snacks. We talk about the good things that have happened as a family. Our favorite memories. And, if you feel like it, we talk about your friends and my brothers and keep their memories alive. Can we do that?” 

“I’d like that,” Arni said, wiping at their cheeks. 

“I’LL GET THE SNACKS!” Nita yelled, squirming out of Chuckles’s grip and sprinting off to retrieve her bags from her stash in their bedroom.

Arni leaned against Chuckles’s arm. “I’m glad you’re our family. I know people call you our dad, but how do you feel about that?”

Chuckles thought about it for a moment. It was something he’d been kicking around in his mind a lot as well. “I think that whatever feels right to you is what we can use. Whatever happens, you’re my kids, even if we don’t share any DNA. And that doesn’t have to be in a fatherly way if you don’t want it to be. I can be a weird uncle or just the guy that’s the oldest here. Whatever feels right.” 

Arni nodded. “I don’t remember what it was like to have parents, not really. I came to the temple when I was really little.” They chewed their lip. “I don’t know if I’ll ever call you ‘dad’, but I think you do feel like one, if that makes sense.” 

Chuckles smiled. “That works for me.”

Nita returned, tossing about five bags and boxes of snacks on the table. 

“Ok, so what’s your favorite memory?” she demanded, scooting back onto the bench and reaching for the Spice Snappers. 

Chuckles glanced at Arni, who thought for a second before breaking into a wide grin. “I’ve got a few, but one of them has to be when Nita beat you at hide and seek.”

The memory made Chuckles laugh out loud. When they’d been flying to Lothal, Nita had gotten bored and demanded they play hide and seek in the Starlight. Chuckles had felt confident, knowing there were only about three places in the ship that she could hide on her own. 

Apparently, she’d found a fourth. In the ceiling panels. 

Chuckles had been frantic, knowing there was no way she could have disappeared off a starship mid-hyperspace, and yet, she was nowhere to be found. He’d grabbed Arni by the shoulders, trying not to let his fear force him into yelling. 

“Ok, so, there are only a handful of places she could be on this ship, and she’s in none of them. I know you know where she is. You have GOT TO TELL ME WHERE SHE IS, ARNI.”

A giggle had erupted from the ceiling, and Chuckles’s eyes had snapped up to a grate where two golden eyes were peering down at him. 

“Kriff.”

“That’s a bad word,” she’d giggled. By the time they fished her out of the duct, she was covered in dust and cobwebs, but triumphant, declaring herself the galaxy’s greatest hider. 

Chuck didn’t disagree. 

That seemed so long ago, but Arni’s guffaws still rang fresh in his ears. Now, they were smiling and suppressing more giggles as they did an imitation of him. 

“You have GOT TO TELL ME WHERE SHE IS, ARNI,” they mocked playfully.

“That’s a good memory,” Chuckles agreed. “But I don’t sound like that.”

“Yes you do,” Nita argued. 

“Agree to disagree. Ok, what’s yours Nita?”

She pondered for a moment. “Swimming with you. And finding my crystal. I was glad you all were there. It made it feel more special.” She popped a snack into her mouth, which crunched loudly. “What about you?” 

Chuckles smiled. “I’ve got a few. Picking a name. Seeing you guys have your birthdays and get older. The looks on your faces when you saw your new room. Watching you run after that tooka the first day we were here.” He paused, realizing he’d cataloged more memories than he initially thought. 

Because they all feel special. 

Because they’re your kids and you love them.

His throat felt tight suddenly, and he reached into the Spice Snapper bag, popping one into his mouth. Nita was gleeful, Arni looked concerned. Chuck felt the heat overwhelm him and let the tears that were already there leak out of his eyes. 

“Woooo. Still hot. Thought I might have a tolerance for those.” 

“Maybe if you eat more,” Nita offered. 

Chuckles coughed hard, fanning his face. “Yeah. Maybe.” 

—

After Empire Day, it felt as if things settled even more for Chuckles. Sure, Endi was a new component of his life that he was sharing with the kids, but they adapted quickly. Arni still seemed stiff around her, but they were polite and engaging, and he appreciated that. He still hoped that they’d come around, but he wasn’t going to push them. 

It took them time to come around to you. They deserve that time to adjust to having her around.

The air chilled as the days shortened, and the weeks moved along at a steady pace, every day predictable to the point where any deviations from what was expected were noticeable, no matter how small. So when Chuckles arrived at the mine one afternoon, it was immediately apparent to him that someone was missing from their crew. 

“Where’s Lu?”

In all the time Chuckles had worked at the mine, he’d never known the Nikto to be so much as a minute late. Having him be completely absent was nearly unthinkable.

Helly fidgeted nervously at her locker, as Anj replied stiffly. “Took today off. He’s uh… having some family issues.” 

Chuckles nodded, pulling his gloves on. “That sounds…not good.”

Anj shrugged, but he could see the tension in her spine and an exhausted slump in her shoulders. It looked as though she hadn’t really slept. “Just needs some time to address it. Told him to take as long as he needs,” she said quietly. Finishing strapping the sensor on her ankle, she straightened, brushing off her coveralls and reaching into her locker for her tendril wrap, clearly considering the matter settled. 

She seemed off. Helly seemed worried. Something was bothering them, and Chuckles couldn’t tell if he was just looking for problems or if there actually was one. In the weeks since Empire Day, things had chugged on quietly. Too quietly. 

You’re just trying to find problems when there are none. You need to relax. The war is over, he tried to tell himself. But he still couldn’t fight that nagging feeling that something more was going on today. 

The lift appeared inside the gate at the far end of the tunnel with a metallic shriek that made Chuckles wince slightly, the doors grinding open to release the previous shift. Chuckles spotted Teef among them, making notes on his datapad and chuckling at something the man next to him was saying. They stopped by the lockers, some chatting with Anj or Helly before moving on. Chuckles nodded at a few of them as they went by. He’d come to know some of the other miners in these brief interactions where they passed each other, but most days, they never had time for more than a quick exchange before he headed down and they headed home. 

Anj slammed her locker shut, jogging to catch up with Teef to chat with him about something just as a heavy hand landed on Chuck’s shoulder. “Made sure to save the hard work for you,” a gruff voice snickered. Chuckles turned and grinned at the Devaronian that had appeared. 

“Sounds like Teef is paying you too much, Gornar,” he replied with a grin.

The Devaronian tipped his head back and cackled loudly. “I’m sure he’d agree with you.” He squeezed Chuck’s shoulder. “Been a while since we’ve crossed paths. Kids good? The little one like her party?”

“She loved it, but not as much as the new room she got out of it. Both of them have spent every spare second down there decorating it with whatever they can find. Arni’s going to have one of every specimen down there before the year is out.” 

Gornar chuckled. “I’m glad.” He leaned closer, glancing around before speaking quietly. “You’ve got some Imp inspectors down there today.”

“Inspectors? Didn’t think we were due for them for a while,” Chuckles noted with a raised eyebrow.

“We aren’t, but they’re here regardless. They don’t seem to be ones for humor either, so I’d stow the jokes and just keep your head down today.”

Chuckles feined offense. “Me? Joke? At work? Never.” 

Gornar’s smile faded, his expression growing more stoic. “I’m serious, Chuck. Not sure what’s afoot, but they took a lot of notes in their little datapads. Just don’t get yourself on anyone’s shit list if you can help it.”

“No promises,” Chuckles grinned. “But thanks for the heads up. I shall endeavor to behave.”

The Devaronian appeared to find that acceptable, grinning with sharp teeth. “Good man. I’ve got to get going. Promised Zeex I’d cook tonight. Stay safe down there today.” 

“Always,” Chuckles grinned, watching as the Devaronian jogged off, catching up with the rest of his crew as they made their way out of the shaft. Turning back to his locker, he reached for his helmet. 

“Is… isn’t that Lu?” Helly said quietly from next to him. 

Chuckles leaned out, and sure enough, he saw the Nikto walking towards them. 

“It is.”

Lu had his head down, not meeting anyone’s gaze, but his pace was hurried. He wore a heavy coat that reached to his ankles, one Chuckles hadn’t seen before. It struck him as slightly odd since the week had been uncharacteristically warm.

“Thought you weren’t gonna join us today!” Chuckles called, thinking of Anj’s words and trying to make it sound light. Lu slowed, finally raising his head to meet Chuck’s gaze.

“Felt like I should be here,” he said evenly.

Chuckles stepped closer. “Anj said you’ve got some family stuff you’re dealing with. If you need to take time, we can handle it.” He rested his hand on Lu’s shoulder, and the Nikto flinched away. 

Anj had paused her conversation with Teef and was looking over at them with a concerned expression. 

“Lu?” she asked, her confusion evident.

Lu glanced at her but did nothing else to acknowledge her remark. 

“I needed to be here,” he repeated quietly. 

Chuckles nodded. “If work’ll help, I get that.” He knew as well as anyone that sometimes throwing yourself back into a task could help distract from worries or grief. “Glad to have you, then.” 

Lu met his gaze again, and his eyes were sad, but something else was lurking in them that sent a shiver down Chuck’s spine. “You’re a lot of the good in the galaxy, Chuckles. You take care of people, even if you owe them nothin’. That’s hard to find nowadays.” His voice was odd, but Chuckles couldn’t pinpoint why. Lu reached out and patted him on the chest just above his breast pocket. It was strange, but everything about this encounter was, and Chuckles had no idea how to react.

“And Hells,” the Nikto continued, turning to the Rodian standing next to them,“if I could bottle your exuberance, I would. Don’t ever lose that, you know?” 

Helly stared at him for a moment before nodding. “I won’t. Are you sure you’re alright, Lu?” 

“Good. That’s good,” he replied, ignoring her question. Seemingly satisfied with the exchange, he dipped his head. “I’ll be seeing you.”

With that, he turned and strode off directly towards the lift, his pace somehow faster now, more determined. Chuckles watched him warily. There was something about his tone of voice that was irregular for the Nikto, yet oddly familiar, something that caused the hairs on the back Chuck’s neck to stand straight up. 

“Wait, Lu! You need your helmet at least!” Helly called after him.

Lu ignored her, continuing past the checkpoint and striding towards the lift. It was then that Chuck realized what was familiar about the tone of his voice. 

It was the resignation, the consignment to defeat, the finality. He’d heard it in Crater’s voice, just before he’d ordered him to run, knowing the fight was lost, knowing it was the end. 

Knowing he was about to die. 

He whipped his head around to look at Anj. Teef was leaving the shaft, and the Nautolan was making her way towards him with long, quick strides. Her dark eyes were focused on Lu’s back, confusion and concern clear in them.

“Anj?” Chuckles’s voice sounded small. He wanted to be wrong, but when he looked at Anj, he could see she was scared. Something had shaken her. Knowing everything he did about Anj, everything she'd survived, the understanding that she was rattled sent a cold spike of fear shooting through him. 

Something was very wrong. 

A flash of understanding dawned on Anj’s features. Her dark eyes widened in horror. 

“Oh, kriff,” she breathed, breaking into a sprint. 

“What’s going on?” Helly asked. 

Lu turned to face them, and Chuckles’s heart pounded in his ears as the Nikto pulled back his long, heavy coat, revealing a glittering array of thermal detonators strapped to his chest. His expression was sad, but determined as he raised a detonator in his hand, his thumb poised on the trigger.

“ANJ! STOP!” Chuckles screamed. He lunged towards her, just managing to grab her by her arm as she passed him and wrenching her back towards him. “FUCK! LU! NO!” Anj shouted, her voice breaking as she struggled in Chuckles’s grip, still trying to get to her friend. Chuck managed to keep his hold on her and tackle Helly to the ground, doing his best to shield them both underneath his body as the mine erupted in a roar of flames and smoke.

A/N: Sorry. You all called it that I'd let things be chill for too long. Also, TP (aka Two-Pint) is one of @teletraan-meets-jarvis's OCs, which you can learn more about in her fic "Pieces."

Tag List: @redheadgirl @cyarbika @witchklng @djarrex @arctrooper69 @sleepingsun501 @ladytano420 @rexxdjarin @echos-girlfriend @zoeykallus @leftealeaf @galacticgraffiti @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @ariadnes-red-thread @goblininawig @merkitty49 @ladykatakuri @runforrestr @baba-fett @daimyosprincess

[chiauve]

Quick doodle: Young Volkreg men wear their hair long, and when they hit marriage age, gussy themselves up to show how available they are. Upon marriage, their hair is sheared short and they keep their heads covered.

Quick ficlet: In which a young Ilana spots a certain engineer and her heart goes doki-doki so she of course has to mess with that, which may or may not have consequences.

When the surveyors came, Ilana ducked behind the low wall that followed the road into their farm with her younger sisters. The small girls giggled into their palms like they were the naughtiest of children, despite the fact that the tradition that deemed women were to return to the home when strange men arrived had grown quite lax over the years. Still, Ilana laughed with them, encouraging their fun, while her older sister, Unyila, rolled her eyes behind them.

"We don't have to hide," she grumbled, "and they're just the surveyors, hardly anything new or exciting."

"Shh, I want to see," Ilana said, peering over the wall. Her sisters mimicked her, their short-cropped, dusty yellow hair looking like dulled grass sticking up in a line.

Their father emerged from the house, arms open wide in welcome as three men stepped off the road-skiff. Asfarig clan, like her, by their malar markings, but of the Re'r line. Plateau folk. The first man was the oldest, then a younger but still mature man beside him, the youngest trailed behind.

"That's Rancher Riner!" Yeana, the youngest, announced with an awkward point over the wall.

Indeed, the oldest man was Re'r, but ran a ranch in the lowlands of Nj'ul and was a distant neighbor. He knew their father, and Ilana had seen him a few times at the markets at the oasis, before it dried up.

Despite that familiarity, the girls all braced themselves for the stuffy introductions all men seemed to need to perform or otherwise perish or something.

Their father bowed to Riner, then again opened his arms in friendly welcome. "Rancher Ushte Riner Vun Re'r! It is a pleasure to see you! The response to my request for aid was prompt indeed!"

Riner bowed in turn. Ilana couldn't tell if he was truly old or merely reflected the hard life of the lowlands in his weathered face. He wore loose robes and a speckled country shemagh over his coif.

"But of course, we are long neighbors and must face our troubles together. I thank you for your hospitality, Farmer Ushte Nagul Eln Nj'ul." He gestured to the other man beside him, his tunic of shorter, more fitting make and a keffiyeh common in the cities over his own coif. "Allow me to introduce my dear brother, Technician Ushte Ryler Vun Re'r, and my beloved nephew, Far-seer Kaio Razer Vun Re'r."

"Kaio?" Unyila peered over the wall, "Ya Founders, he's a breaker!"

"A what?" one of the little girls asked, following her eldest in leaning up over the wall.

"See? That third mark on his chin, it means he was Ushte but broke caste and ascended," she actually sounded impressed, and the other sisters oohed aloud.

Ilana was barely paying attention to them, for once her attention had been put to the youngest man, she couldn't stop looking. He was definitely Asfarig, his tattoos proclaimed it, but he also bore the mark of it in his pale eyes, sharp yet even teeth, and blunt nose. And yet.

Had it not been for his tattoos, she would have sworn him an Azrag. Instead of the pale tan skin and dusty yellow hair of the Asfarig, his skin was white, making his markings stand stark in his face. His hair too was white, his head bare in the fashion of an umarried man and worn long, pulled back into a loose ponytail decorated with chips of metal that gleamed and clinked when he turned his head, marking him eligible.

More than that, his eye mask, rather than being the thick and rounded shape of the Asfarig male, was long and sharp, like a shore bird's wings.

Pale Asfarig eyes set into such an exotic eye mask found only far away on the western peninsula of the Azrag...white hair practically afire under the lowland sun...

Ya Founders...he was beautiful.

Ilana swallowed and buried her cheeks in her hands. Oh no, no no, she considered herself better than that. She was not one to pursue a man for looks or even just for the sake of it. What would be would be but not just because her insides were suddenly a-flutter and her cheeks darkening to a grey.

Yeana peered up at her, confused. "Why are you blushing?"

And now she was under scrutiny of them all, curse it.

"You are blushing! Ilana!"

"Do you...like him?"

"Ilana loves the Re'r!"

"Hush, you! I do not!"

"Ilana wants to maaarrry the Re'r!"

Another denial died before it left her mouth, and Ilana paused. She looked back over the wall at the still-chatting men, particularly at the pretty hybrid breaker. An eyebrow rose and a glint lit in her eye. She stood.

"Ilana, no," Unyila hissed, her tone sharp with warning.

She was ignored as Ilana grabbed her skirt and leapt the wall, loping towards the men in a semi-circle and coming up behind, the beads hanging off the simple band adorning her otherwise bare head clicking as she moved. The men didn't see her coming until it was too late, and she saw her father's eyes widen in confusion before she slid up right next to the young Re'r, looping her arm around his. Ancestors, he was tall.

His head snapped down to look at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape in confusion. Before he could say anything, Ilana beamed up at him and batted her lashes in the way of city women.

"I like you," she said, still grinning, "Marry me?"

She distantly heard her father choke but was too focused on those bird-wing eyes, which now shifted from her to elsewhere and, clearly finding no help, moved back to her.

"Uh...alright?"

Her eyes lit in delight and she let out a peal of laughter before again grabbing her skirt and sprinting back to the wall, practically diving behind it, cackling the whole way.

Razer watched the young woman run away, laughing.

Ah, of course.

His shocked expression smoothed and he turned back to his father and uncle, who too were staring after the girl in wide-eyed bafflement. Their host, on the other hand, looked after her with a look of horror and dismay. Uh oh.

"Your daughter?" Razer asked slowly.

Farmer Nagul collected himself a bit, looking at his guests with sad eyes. "Yes, my second."

"She is...spirited..." his father and uncle remained silent, forcing Razer to try to fix this. He continued, voice flat and disinterested, "A bit of girlish fun, is all, obviously not binding."

Farmer Nagul's shoulders slumped in relief and Razer tried not to take that personally.

"Thank you...yes, I apologize for her behavior."

"Not at all, she is a lovely girl."

Farmer Nagul nodded and tried to move on with their business. "Please, my friends, this way. We shall eat and drink and then get to work. He gestured to his home, a collection of squat buildings of earth, and waved his guests on. "Friend Riner, Technician Ryler…" he hesitated as he looked to Razer, his eyes falling on the third caste mark, "…my lord Far-seer…"

Razer sighed. "Please don't. While I have received my new mark, until I marry and become a proper member of society, I am still bound to my family."

Again their host looked relieved, and again Razer tried to not take it personally. He followed his father and uncle to the Eln Nj'ul home, glancing back over his shoulder to the wall.

Was he hoping to see the young woman there? She had indeed been lovely, and the way she actually smiled at him…

He sighed. A pity, he supposed.

[machihunnicutt]

SCREAM HELLO. CAN I REQUEST A 🎲 FOR BEEJHAWK (if you feel inspired!!!)

HI PARKER ! TY !

20. a rough kiss 

(under the cut bc it's long, spoiler warning for the 1954 version of a star is born, idk why either this is just where inspiration took me)

Hawk’s new thing was taking a glass of wine in the shower. BJ could hear him in the kitchen, opening a bottle of the cheap, fruity stuff, wearing his bathrobe and his house slippers. 

It was a new habit. Hawk’s tastes were maturing and evolving (his words) in his middle age. He didn’t drink hard liquor anymore or stay up past 11 or read books with small print sans reading glasses and occasionally a magnifying glass. 

He’d taken up baking fruit tarts on the weekends: walking the three blocks to the farmer’s market in the morning and returning with an armful of peaches or plums or strawberries, and sending Erin recipes when one of his projects worked out particularly well. He’d copy the ingredients onto a notecard in his barely legible doctor’s script and tuck it in with a letter and a handful of newspaper and magazine clippings the two of them compiled for her whether she wanted them or not. 

He was still the same old Hawkeye. He still got himself into laughing fits over his own jokes:  head thrown back, face bright red, rolling into BJ’s lap on the couch. He still grabbed BJ by the waist when a slow song came on over the radio and demanded that they dance. 

He was softer, maybe, and more comfortable in his skin. His jokes had lost some of their nervous edge. He slept better. He really leaned in to kisses. They weren’t desperate and messy the way they used to be, when they were young and afraid of all the things they felt for each other. 

He was also a lightweight, now, so a glass of wine in the shower and another post‐shower was enough to get him tipsy and talkative. BJ watched him from the couch. He was curled up, channel surfing. Hawkeye slid across the wood floor and stopped in the doorway: one hand braced against the doorframe, the other cradling his wine glass, swirling the remaining liquid dramatically, like he was a movie star gunning for an Oscar. His hair was damp from the shower and falling into his eyes. He clutched at his robe, which he had on over his pajamas because he got cold, and preferred piling on layers to turning up the heat. 

“Are you going to come sit?” BJ said. 

They were doing their usual post‐dinner dance: crate up the leftovers, bicker good naturedly over who was on dish duty, showers, and lounging or phone calls to Erin or Hawkeye’s father, maybe a movie if there was something good on TV, maybe just reading in bed, or (energy permitting) they’d fool around (couch, bed, the particularly romantic red velvet chaise lounge Hawkeye had bought at an auction for the guest bedroom, on one occasion BJ got Hawk up on the kitchen counter, but they’d since vetoed that spot since it was bad for the cabinets). 

“Beej, I feel that you’re not adequately appreciating the majesty of the sunset,” Hawkeye said, gesturing wildly with his wine glass.

“I’m appreciating it plenty,” BJ said, because he was. The light was bleeding through the curtains and casting Hawk’s face in a mess of deep oranges and warm golds. 

Hawkeye’s eyes narrowed, like he could read BJ’s mind. “I’m trying to get you to appreciate the beauty of nature and you’re—”

“I am appreciating the beauty of nature,” BJ cut in, and opened his arms wide, which was, apparently, enough to get Hawk on the couch beside him. 

He draped himself over the free end of the couch, slippers dangling, arms around BJ’s chest, wine glass abandoned on the coffee table. He tucked his face into the crook of BJ’s neck and sighed, contentedly. BJ could smell the wine on his breath and his shampoo and aftershave. 

“They’re playing that film you like,” Hawk muttered, into BJ’s neck. 

BJ looked up at the screen he’d been ignoring to see it was A Star is Born with Judy Garland. It was partway through: the scene where fading movie star Norman Maine asks Vicki Lester (formerly Esther Blodgett) if she’ll marry him. She’s mid‐rehearsal. He’s tagging along on set, enamored, overjoyed just to be in her presence. They’re sitting on the stairs while the ensemble performs and she awaits her cue. One of the boom operators lowers a mic above their heads so the cast can spy on their conversation. 

They argue over the practicality of eloping when she’s at the height of her career. She beams at him. They hold each other. They’ll get married. It’s how the story goes.

“This is before it gets sad,” BJ said. 

It’s before Norman Maine backslides into his alcoholism. It’s before he makes it in and out of rehab and realizes no one will hire him. It’s before he relapses and ends up in jail. It’s before Vicki pleads with the judge to release him into her custody. It’s before she vows to put her career on hold to care for him, and he feels so burdensome and ruinous that he ends his life to keep her from doing so. 

BJ saw the picture in the theater, a year after the war ended. He’d left work in the middle of the afternoon and was wandering aimlessly, a little drunk himself, and bought the ticket in a daze. He remembered sitting in the dark, eyes glued to the screen, while Judy Garland sang about heartbreak and lost love. He broke down when she did, monologuing about the pain and anger and resentment that came in loving someone who was destroying himself. He’d felt broken open, like a geode or a ribcage, and confused. He’d been on the cusp of some discovery about himself. He’d been missing Hawk like a limb. And he’d seen pieces of the both of them on the screen.

It was the desperation. It was the destruction. It was the stark fear of hurting each other. Hawk was a little like Judy Garland: unimaginably talented, quick, witty, troubled, thrown about by a system that never gave a damn about her.

Maybe Hawk was the man who got away.

“You can’t have all that passion without some tragedy,” Hawkeye said, shifting to look up at BJ.

“I don’t know about that,” BJ said. Suddenly his heart was hammering in his chest. He got like that still, around Hawk, even though it had been years, even though they were for all intents and purposes an old married couple.

Hawkeye leaned up and kissed him, roughly, messily, a proper Hollywood kiss. BJ matched his energy and their noses brushed. Their teeth clacked together. Hawk’s hand was on the side of BJ’s jaw, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss so BJ forgot how to breathe for a moment. He could taste Hawk’s wine. He could feel the quickness of his pulse. BJ slid his hands under Hawk’s robe, and then his shirt, so he could feel his warmth, and the liquid way he was moving against him.

Hawkeye drew back, panting, and BJ grinned at him. 

“Do you want some tea or something? I think I need something to help me wind down, after, uh, after that,” Hawkeye said, matching BJ’s grin. 

“Sure,” BJ said. 

Hawkeye rose, and turned, heading for the kitchen. 

“Hey,” BJ said, and Hawk turned back around: hair a little wild, lips very pink, pupils still blown.

“What?”

“Nothing,” BJ said. “I just want to take another look at you.”

[tonydaddingham]

orwellian's a great word for it actually. "appropriate raiments will be provided" is the most disturbing thing in the whole series and i stand by that. this interpretation of heaven has definitely coloured my reading of the show especially how i see the fall so it's cool to see someone who agrees!

hard agree that pure coercion would be a total cop out. it's just that he does seem nervous so i do think he's aware of a certain degree of potential danger. i initially thought the metatron must have let slip an implication somewhere but i much prefer your idea that he suspected something. and well. i've been saying basically since season 2 came out that accepting the offer doesn't equal having completely fallen for it. will come back to that in my thoughts on the whole mess that was that domestic.

the blanket permission to come scream at you is greatly appreciated and i'll definitely make use of it; i love this kind of media dissection and speculation. 🦭

(p.s. i did indeed end up making the chekov's list since my ocd never can leave well enough alone lol. brace yourself: incoming!)

hihi again, 🦭 anon!!!✨

yes!!! in the context of 1984, especially, that line really is ominous; obviously there is a fine line between a corporate uniform and dictated dress, especially as the only scene where we see all of the angels look the same (iirc) is the waiting platoon in s1. otherwise, all of the angels do have individual dress/style (but similar enough to show belonging), even in the job scene, even if certain elements of their designs indicate shared rank or moral alignment... but the implication of subjugation made by clothes being specifically chosen for the prospective mind-wiped gabriel is... interesting.

and of course - aziraphale's outfit is very different to that of the other angels, in it being actual human clothing, and showing unashamed signs of wear and comfort. i remarked in a post that in job especially, his jobes (job robes) are very similar in aesthetic to that of michael and gabriel compared to say muriel's. could be that it's the appropriate dress of a principality rank, but im not... wholly convinced.

anyway, let's get on with your list!!! a herculean effort, truly!!! hope you don't mind, but a) ive copied and pasted it under the cut, because b) id love to use it as a checklist for myself (and of course if anyone else does!) re: things ive talked about, or indeed things that i have Thoughts on... or even things that i haven't thought to talk about and will probably look into doing so in the future!!!✨✨

episode 1:

starting with the big one there's the pre-fall sequence. the fall itself. talked a lot about these two things/the whole theme in general, found under the #the fall/the great war spec tag

maggie's spelling under the #we need to talk about maggie theory tag - babygirl is an angel, im convinced of it

"what's the point of it all" i mean, kinda talked about this in connection with stuff under the #god is dead theory tag, and in a couple of different asks; mainly that god doesn't give two hoots about any of it, and just wanted to give everyone and everything free will - and they have to work out the consequences for themselves (whilst she throws in a few chaotic sprinkles to keep things interesting)

shax's insider information about heaven ive definitely not discussed shax at all really, and i definitely have a few things id like to work out... main one being, for me, how she went from wondering where aziraphale was in ep3, to suddenly knowing how to exactly triangulate his position in ep4 finally talked about her in the #shax meta tag!!!

the demons being on half rations didn't really think to look at this!!! that could be interesting, especially with the short-staffed comment... someone did put to me that bc the apocalypse failed, everyone on earth continues dying and adding to the population of the Damned, so the work vs demon ration is steadily getting outweighed... but hm, could be something more than that!

"something terrible" because are we sure we're sure that that was about the stuff we've already seen you know, i wondered this too after ep6!!! it was a very interesting choice of words for me, bc whilst yes gabriel's fate was looking pretty shit, the line was almost a bit... well, over-announced? they kept repeating it? like, gabriel said he had to bring the box to aziraphale/the bookshop otherwise something terrible would happen... but why specifically the shop? is it just because aziraphale is the only angel/sanctuary on earth? is it because he was drawn to an angel that's also fallen for a demon? is it because aziraphale is simply kind? i don't trust that it's any of these explanations at all (or maybe all of them and another besides)... and tbh i think god has something to do with it. another speculation for the to-do list!!!

the book of life this one ive remarked on a fair bit under the #book of life theory tag, but it's fairly disjointed from other bits and pieces - tbh i probably need to do a long post at some point as to where all my theories etc join up... bc for the moment all of them are full of loopholes

michael and uriel's power politics oooooh i literally don't have a single scooby on this... id have to think on this a little more

the very highlighted matchbox quote this one ive had sat in the drafts for ages bc i can't quite parse it out - where does leviathan come into it? is it a reference to crowley-as-aziraphale spitting fire during the execution? why would it be on a matchbox of a bloody pub? is it a clue from god? is god linked to jim/gabriel somehow? gahd this one is still giving me a headache kinda? wrote about this - here, no tag for this specifically - and im still not fully satisfied that is the meaning of the matchbox but i think (hope) it might be somewhere near the mark?

1650 i speculated (or, well, dreamt up a hc) as to what this potential flashback could entail in a LWA response somewhere - in any case, give me the boys in cromwellian england and give it to me Now

the 25 lazarii miracle my batshit theory (and yet it makes complete sense to me, i stand by it) is in my #25 lazarii theory tag

episode 2:

heaven and hell working together as a single good cop bad cop system this is similarly stagnating in my drafts at the moment!!! but it's a bit of a mindbender for me bc it means i need to pick apart what everything thinks the job/satan bet was actually about... basically, i think it all comes back to understanding god's will - and all of them (yes, even crowley) have it wrong because imo god is completely amoral and is just the strongest advocate for free will... weirdly, i think the person that had the most right of it was gabriel.

"forces them under an awning together" god i hope this happens in s3... i mean there's no way it won't, right? and so many juicy possibilities (for my money itll be the bandstand, but equally would love, like, the stoop of the bookshop, and then have it mirrored again under like the porch of the south downs cottage) 🥺

gabriel's eyes glowing statements this tbh harks back to what i posted under the #25 lazarii theory tag - definitely something weird going on, and i have a gut feeling the boys accidentally made it even worse lmao

tricking heaven with a sleight of hand this is also going to require a bit more thought!!!

episode 3:

aziraphale's chekhov's diaries see im not sure how important i truly think theyre going to be, but if we go by the prominent influence of the crow road, it definitely has to be a s3 plot device, right? the only thing im scared of is that aziraphale's memory gets wiped, or he goes missing, and the books are key to getting back his memory/finding him... hmmm

crowley's consciousness extending into the bentley i think the crank is certainly important, even if just symbolic of his power - uses it to create nebulae, it survived the s1 explosion, etc. i do think bentley has its own kind of personality, but think it's borne out of proximity, use, and influence of her demon owner... obviously i could be entirely wrong, but i kinda hope it's more that he made her, and her allegiance as a sentient being is with him (and of course aziraphale by extension), mainly bc i want something to look after crowley... but then is it more poetic that the bentley is basically just him, and representative of him finding comfort in himself? idk tbh but she's a bad bitch and i love her

general resurrection themes ive talked a fair bit about the second coming aspect, but not about the resurrection and last judgement so much, so this is one for the list

gabriel's glowing eyes statements part 2 as above (and i realise that you might be talking about what he specifically says, not the general thing itself, 🦭 anon, but in a way what is being said is fairly self-explanatory imo, but why is the heftier question)

shax can sense gabriel in a way the archangels couldn't i personally don't think there's much by way of implication in the method in which she senses him (ie... smell? vs michael's weird sixth sense), but i do think there is something about the fact they can sense him at all... talked about in #25 lazarii spec and the #shax meta tag!!!

"it's always too late" oh god 💀 i had the most batshit theory about this that i don't even want to talk about BUT im with you that it's... an odd line. i love that it potentially references line in the book about crowley's watch being set to hell's time, which is set at "too late", but beyond that... not entirely sure why the line was said or said so... blatantly? feels like something obvious would explain it

rumours that aziraphale and crowley were an item that so far don't seem justified based on what hell knew. rumours that apparently had no major consequences for crowley despite one harmless photo warranting a legion to collect him [screams at 1941 truther sign] yeah this is how it read to me too, 🦭! something definitely happened after that dinner, and im not saying a move was made (and potentially witnessed by a couple of errant nazi zombies) but i think a move was made (and witnessed by a couple of errant nazi zombies) - #1941 spec tag

the literal chekhov's gun in the bookshop this one has flummoxed me, but i did read a speculation about continuing the 1941 flashback today, which was utter genius (and so much better than what i managed to dream up in the above tag), and suggested the derringer will make an appearance in a fight-ish scenario in that scene... which is frankly bloody inspired tbh, and im very much convinced by

the miracle blocker oooooh i don't have a dedicated tag for this but i definitely talked about it in a post under the #sanctuary/bentley theory tag!!! i think it was potentially a chekhov's gun that we didn't see get fired

sleight hand to trick hell probably one to look at in hand with the one above about tricking heaven

the zombies just running around london kinda as i said above tbh, not sure what'll happen to them afterwards but presumably a grisly end being eaten and pooped out by a spider

1941 full stop. we have not seen the last of that night. goddamn right we havent [skips around the 1941 truther sign]

episode 5:

the lack of demons available for the attack pretty much what i said above in ep1 about being short staffed bc the Damned population keeps increasing... maybe? still one to look at in more detail though!!!

"i know. do it anyway" "i know. looking at where the furniture isn't" not necessarily in reference to these quotes specifically, but in the general context - discussed this (and potential crowley memory loss) in the #the fall/the great war spec and #book of life theory tags

"if it happens twice it might seem like an institutional problem" oh. OH. THIRD EYE HAS OPENED. because we know two things, right? gabriel didnt fall/wasnt intended to, so the 'happens twice' isn't realised. and heaven does have an institutional problem, practically embodies the term. so if this is foreshadowing. does aziraphale fall. oh no. Oh No (ive sort of discussed this in #scapegoat theory tag but that was strictly pre-eden context...) this however has actually just made me realise that this is a chekhov's gun literally pointed at aziraphale's head... shitshitshitshitshjthka

mrs cheng's weird look across the street see this is on my list but waaaay down it. think she could be a demon. will work on it at some point edit: talked a little bit about this in the #shax meta tag, but possibly needs a dedicated post, idk

nina and maggie's semi immunity to miracles so the bit where aziraphale can't miracle them? that to me is potentially the same explanation as the miracle blocker post (like it all connects). maggie is more immune than normal to the ball miracle? see #we need to talk about maggie theory tag. as for nina... im still not sure on. idk if she's a demon (which for me is a Thought if we consider that hell are short-staffed; she could be one of Many) but it feels a little on the nose... one for the list edit: talked a little bit about nina in the #shax meta tag, but definitely needs a separate post at some point

shax saying the shop isn't an embassy anymore but the demons still unable to get in i didn't think of it from this angle, but i think my theory still stands - under the #sanctuary/bentley theory tag

nina and maggie's immunity to miracles part 2 oh oops - see above

episode 6:

maggie being able to invite the demons into the shop i think she's an angeeeeeeellllll (see #we need to talk about maggie tag)

the speed at which the portal opens and it's potential as a means of spying my latest galaxy brain moment (i hope) - #sanctuary/bentley theory tag

haloes and the potential consequences of blowing them up this one is in the #halo theory tag

crowley opening the files not quite sure what you mean by this one, 🦭!!! do you mean about his rank? definitely tried parsing this particular headscratcher in the #AWCW spec tag

heaven was trying to restart armageddon in a way that seems awfully unofficial oooooohhh.... haven't looked at it this way, but definitely will be!!! might link in with #god is dead theory stuff, but will need more exploring!!!

saraqael having their own agenda honestly saraqael is my newest bad bitch (gn) and if my #saraqael spec is even halfway true, im going to explode i love them

"i'm the only first order archangel in the universe" *camera cuts to crowley* kinda talk about this in the #AWCW spec tag but since neil cremated the lucifer theory (rip) ive kinda left this aspect alone... tbh i don't think he was as important as he's set out to have been

"i'm the only first order archangel in the universe" full stop. statement's plenty suspicious on its own too. this is....... potentially very intriguing

memory wiping as just a thing heaven does when someone disobeys i need to reconcile #book of life theory with this tbh - like, the focus on memory is so strong in s2 that i strongly believe it has connection to falling... at which point, where does gabriel demotion/mem wipe punishment fit in? and where does saraqael fit in, too?

muriel having the same kind of position gabriel was going to be demoted to vaguely looked at this in #book of life theory tag posts i think, especially in reference to how their potential punishments (in muriel's case) mirror each other

heaven and hell are technically at war now. its not like anyone with authority actually called it off danced around this in the #halo theory tag, in reference to aziraphale declaring this new war, and yet they've been at war for a long time? yes the reflection of it being a cold war but still... interesting to think about especially when framed like this

it's possible to remove your essence and store it elsewhere definitely need to explore the possibilities and implications of this at some point, but the suggestion i made in the #25 lazarii theory post somewhat starts to look at this

hell is understaffed as already mentioned above

the shax furfur alliance not quite sure what to think about this, and whether it necessarily means anything more than it's put across (ie just that they are the danger duo of hell in s3?) idk tbh i just need to look at them both as individual characters a bit more first #shax meta tag!!!

the many strange things that could indicate something going on in the last fifteen minutes god.... just anything in the #feral domestic/final fifteen meta tag tbh

"does anyone ever ask for death" idk whether or not to take this as meaning anything deeper than metatron just idly thinking "hmmm aziraphale could refuse my coffee, refuse a chat... at which point ill probably need to destroy him etc. hey, i wonder if anyone - instead of coffee - has ever actually asked for death? funny name for a coffee shop"... and possibly a double meaning meant by Nina saying 'everything else was taken'?

saraqael being the only one other than crowley who recognises the metatron and their reaction well theres my school of thought that saraqael is potentially closer to metatron that we maybe thought (#saraqael spec tag), but then again - and this exact sentence just reminded me - i think in this particular instance, both saraqael and crowley have just come fresh from watching the trial, so that's why they both remember metatron... which begs the question of what happened between the trial and the final fifteen to make them forget? hmmm

almond syrup imo, #omelas theory

the possible miracle chime ehhhh i know i wrote about this but im still like 50/50 on it... but it fits my theory (in the #feral domestic/final fifteen tag) so im rolling with it - i think there might be a chime and i think it might be a failed miracle to change the coffee

the metatron and crowley seeming to have some kind of history lmao anything in #metatron spec or indeed #the fall/the great war spec tags tbh

aziraphale's peculiar mannerisms im getting so lazy with these responses now 🦭 anon im so sorry, but again recently speculated in the #feral domestic/final fifteen meta tag

the way the conversation between aziraphale and the metatron is only reported and very strangely transitioned in and out of as above

the nothing to see here shooting of the kiss this one...

i know ng said it was a continuity error but. the time skip on the clocks ...and this one ive looked at in the #time-stop theory tag, and im the same - not trusting continuity error on this... not just yet

the something's up vibes of metatron. the general scheming and manipulativeness. the framing as the wizard of oz. the colour scheme and the dice on his tie. the sigh of relief in the elevator lol #metatron spec

the credits scene i haven't really gone into this in any detail and tbh idk if it needs it - i think it's pretty reflective of some stuff ive talked about in the #aziraphale meta and the #feral domestic/final fifteen meta tags

plus special mention: not technically in the episode but the distinctly ominous madonna/crucifixion promo photos aaaaaaaand this one is in the #mary/pieta spec tag

again 🦭 anon im really sorry it got a little lazy towards the end!!! but im very, very grateful that you put this all in a list, because ive definitely got some stuff in mind that id like to parse out!!! and as ever - more than happy to scream about things so pop on back if you feel the need to scream with me!!!✨

[absinthemind3d]

I Only Want You - Chapter 3

It has been a MINUTE, friends. Here's a short chapter three :)

Read on AO3 above or here, above and below the cut >>>

Chapter 2: Cardan's POV is here (tumblr) or here (AO3)

I Only Want You - Chapter 3: Jude's POV (767 - short one!)

---

I don’t know what has come over me. I am not sure who this fierce girl is, sinking her nails into the High King of Elfhame’s cheeks so hard his pupils widen in shock, but I am surprised to find I don’t care. I don’t care how she got here, I only care that this is what I’m working with now, and I find I am delighted. 

I grin up at him and angle my right hand so it’s braced at his neck, pressing just enough, I am sure, to hurt. I have never wished for those pointy nails I see on girls in the mortal world, thought them wildly impractical, but gods above I wish I had them now. I’d love to see Cardan bleed under my thumb. 

I kiss him, then. Maybe to shut my brain up, maybe because he looks so good, trapped against the door under my hands, maybe because I like to have this control over him as well. 

He kisses me back, with such urgency that I gasp against his lips. The heat that was building as I watched him with the others floods through me now, and I am not sure I can stand much longer. I press every inch of my body against his, all the while thinking it is not close enough. He’s only wearing a thin robe, and I can feel that he’s as intoxicated as I am. No, this isn’t enough. 

I grab his robe by the lapels and begin tugging him towards the bed, and he laughs softly, lips still on mine, hot as ice. 

“Darling Jude, I thought you weren’t lining up for all of this,” I am attempting to shrug his robe off, and he gestures down at himself as I struggle with the tie. 

“Shut up,” I growl, finally managing to get the knot undone. If his lithe fingers had expertly tied this so quickly before, imagine what else he could do with them. The thought has me pushing him back onto the bed. I answer him belatedly as I press against him, both of us sinking into the silk sheets, “There is no more line. I’m not sharing.” I try to say this as threatening as possible, but it comes out more like a breathless plea. I hate it, and yet I can’t stop. 

He looks panicked for a moment in response to my declaration, and I push back a bit, watching him. “Do you know why?” He asks me, and I think I know what he means. 

I tilt my head, unable to, afraid to, speak and interrupt him. 

“Because of you,” he continues, in a rush. “No matter how many nights, how many bodies, how much pleasure, I cannot get you out of my head.” 

He reaches up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, so tenderly that if we were anyone else, anywhere else, it might have been the sweetest thing and maybe I might have cried, like a soft girl with nothing in her head but optimistic visions of a future with an equally soft boy. 

But I am a murderer, a human, and he is a faerie king, the stuff of fairy tales and nightmares. I only choke out as I reach down between us, “So get me out of your head then. Show me what you cannot stop thinking about. I want to know all of it.” 

At that, he grins, wide and slow, and just like that, the vulnerable boy is replaced with the wicked king. Just as I work up the courage to stroke down his length, my eyes widening in spite of myself, he flips us over so I am beneath him. 

“Do you really want to know, Jude?” He cocks an eyebrow and grinds his hips into my hand in a way that has my head reeling. I worry I may pass out. “I don’t know if you’re ready for what I have planned for you.” 

“Do your worst,” I spit out through gritted teeth, now gripping him hard enough I can feel his blood pounding. I am sure he knows I have no idea what I am doing.

He takes my challenge as permission, and suddenly his hands are everywhere at once, those lithe fingers I’d fantasised about springing to action. He doesn’t settle on any one place, not yet, and I think he must be deliberating. 

Sure enough, he asks me as his hands run down my waist, he rising on his knees so he can take all of me in, eyes hungry, “Where shall I start?”