#so wasn't much to shuffle xD

[moodymisty]

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: I decided though no fault of my own, to make a Mortarion fic. I had some ideas I wanted to do, and wanted to write him more. I'm not happy with it, but I just wanted something to be FINISHED. I wanted to post something instead of staring at a half finished doc for an hour. This actually was far longer, but I ended up cutting off chunks like a bad plastic surgery XD I have a bunch of full NSFW stuff coming soon, sorry for the wait lol

Summary: Mortarion yearns for someone who he believes he'll never have, only to learn you feel very much the same.

Relationships: Mortarion/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lewd but not full nsfw, Size difference, Kind of a beauty and the beast undertones with Mortarion thinking he's dirty and gross and is going to stain you

Mortarion barely remembers the first time he'd met you. He attempted to block it out of his memory, cast it away; He'd assumed that he'd never see you again. You were just one face in a sea of unpronounceable numbers.

The second time however, he remembers far more vividly.

You'd spent the entire time indulging him with pointless chatter, asking of his homeworld, his legion; You even asked him if he had a favorite drink. The question stumped him more than forming the plans of some of his most hard fought battles ever had.

No one had asked it before; It was such a stupid, pointless, human question, one that he responded to with a quiet I don’t know when he came up empty.

He instinctively wanted to walk away, cast all this as stupid and meaningless, but he found himself staying still as you continued to indulge him with a almost forbidden feeling taste of normalcy. He's gone so long without conversation that wasn't filled with undertones of violence and conquest.

When the sky had started to turn purple, you had dared to ask if you'd see him again, promising you'd meet him here. And he wanted to ignore it, despite the way his chest tightened at the thought.

You were just saying it to be kind. Who would want to see him?

But he still stood in that same damn spot, staring at nothing and waiting. He felt like a fool, but he still did it anyways.

You did eventually show, racing down the hall and stumbling to your knees right in front of him when your feet caught the front of your dress. Your Lord had a million and one things to ask of you, you'd said. The sentence made Mortarion's mouth sour, but he didn't say anything.

You both ending up talking for hours that day; When someone had come to get you, to scold you for being late again, Mortarion had cast them a glare and told them off, telling them you were busy. They wilted under the gaze of a primarch and shuffled off, but you looked even more worried than when they had first arrived. You left a few minutes later, apologizing profusely to him before scurrying off to placate some surely worthless Lord. You deserved better.

The fourth time he saw you, you'd said that your lord hadn't been happy with you being tardy so much. You didn't smile at all that time, until it was time for you to leave. Mortarion had enough pieces of the puzzle to figure that weren't getting treated with the respect he thought you deserved; His hand cracked the marble railing with his grip.

Mortarion then softly asked for your Lord's name, and you looked at him confused before responding.

Perhaps if he was a more impulsive man, he would've done something else. But he didn't want to frighten you, and so he only made it so no lord would breath down your neck again.

The way he did such a thing was to take you for the Death Guard; But he wouldn't tell you that. At least not now. He didn't want you to think he was now your owner, and the genuine relationship that had been planted become tied to a trellis and forced into form.

And so when you returned to him again and happily explained that your debt to your lord was paid, that you were free, Mortarion gave nothing other than a curt nod.

But while he had already done so much for you, he hated that he had done it so easily; That he was already so deeply attached to you. But the fact that you'd not only spent time with him of your own accord, but seemed to enjoy it? To want to be near him? Mortarion would embarrass himself more with the things he would do to keep you this close to him.

Especially as time passed, and what had become friendly, meaningless conversations had turned into something with far more meaning, at least to him. He had begun to talk with you about things that no mortal should hear; About his legion, about himself and the other primarchs; His own doubts about the Emperor. You listened to them all and while you could never truly sympathize with him, your comfort gave him more than he's ever felt before.

He'd thought it simply desperation for even the simplest companionship at first after a life so lonely, until one day he had told you some of his history on Barbarus and you'd- upon the conclusion of his talking- had given him a small hug in a silent gesture. He knew in that moment that his feelings went far deeper than he had originally thought.

But he had no doubt that you would never feel that same way about him. You enjoy his companionship, sure he can see that, but the idea of someone wanting his rotten, soulless husk of a body as their lover is a miserable bit of hope that he doesn't even want to entertain lest it get shattered before his eyes.

But throne, that doesn't stop him from thinking about it. About how your skin must be so soft to the touch, how your smile is so warm; He wonders what you might sound like as he slipped his hand between your thighs. His nightmares have waned, but only to have been replaced by dreams that have him waking up sweating and painfully hard.

That wanting had continued for months and Mortarion had almost gotten at peace with it, until you managed to surprise him again.

He had been explaining to you something about Barbarus, about his role of primarch. How despite such a grandiose title, The Pale King was seen as little more than a failure from the start by most of the other primarchs.

You'd shocked him however, by politely speaking up.

"You have so many titles, you're just Mortarion to me."

The look he'd given you was of the most pure, genuine surprise.

Moments later he'd then knelt down as close to your level as he could get, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you to him before pressing his lips to yours.

Your arms tightly wrapped around his neck like he was going to push you away at any time, no matter how much he would never even consider doing such a thing. He loved the feeling of your tight grip, the way it made him feel wanted. He tested his own limits by brushing the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip, feeling the way you softly sigh and parted your lips for him. He cautiously explored your mouth feeling the way you pressed your lips against him harder; You tasted sweet, just like your favorite drink you'd told him about.

Mortarion's lips then left yours with a soft pop, leaving you catching air after so long of being denied it. When he pulled away, your face looked noticeably warmer and your lips were still parted, panting softly. Your eyes glanced away for a moment.

"I, I'm glad you feel the same. I was too afraid to say it myself."

Mortarion looked at you with a furrowed brow.

"For how long?" You pursed your lips.

"The third time we spoke, when you told me about Barbarus, I kept forgetting what I was going to say. I just wanted to stay there forever."

Mortarion had felt his heart almost stopped. To hear that you desired him before he even desired you, that you wanted him not out of pity, but of genuine attraction... He can't deny it either, he heard your heart in his ears, smelled the way you've gotten sweeter.

He knows he's disgusting. That he's rotten, that the taint of Barbarus had poisoned him; That he stands in the shadow of better men like Sanguinius, Horus, Guilliman. And yet you still want him despite it all.

You want him. You genuinely, truly want for him. Not just as a confidant, or perhaps a dear friend; You want to be with him, for him to fuck you. To touch you, ruin you, defile you.

You want him more and more, your face looked hot and he could feel your hands tight in his hair.

"I might hurt you."

Even kneeling he's still taller than you, his strength could kill you if he wasn't careful. Your fingers shifted on his neck.

"I want to try." You pursed your lips again. "And if we need to, we can get creative."

How did he get here? How did he despite all the odds find someone who wanted him? Who’s willing to figure out a compromise just to feel him?

You had yelped when he picked you up, taking you back to his personal quarters with no warning or fanfare.

On Terra each of the Primarchs had their own wings, compete with both custodes and their own legion guards. Both of those factions gave him confused looks when he walked straight to his innermost quarters with a baseline human they had zero knowledge of and slammed the door, locking it tight.

He gently tossed you onto his bed and you bounced, unable to stop your laugh. When he crawled over you however, even his lanky limbs still covered you in complete shadow, as you looked up at him quietly. You were so small.

He leaned down to press his lips against your neck, and internally scolded himself. He feels like he’s pretending or mimicking, and he feels so stupid. But you let out a soft sigh and tilted your head to give him more, and he at least thinks that it’s working. That's all that he wanted.

You were just so soft underneath him, so small and cute and begging for him with no cares about the repercussions of it. He pulled off the dress you wore with a few smooth motions and tossed it aside, before his own shirt followed suit.

But he was still remembering that he's never done this before. He doesn't want to look stupid. He doesn't want to disappoint you; After months and months of what had felt like the most unique torture you could put someone under. Torture strong enough to nearly crack a Primarch. Who would've thought it existed.

"Mortarion..."

You speak so softly, his name slides off your lips like you were spilling wine as he gently abused the soft skin on the side of your neck with his teeth.

"Say it again."

If you had listened closely, you could hear a shake in his voice as his lips moved against your throat.

"Mortarion..."

He felt his cock throb in his trousers. Your hands gripped at him so softly, even though it felt like you’re putting all of your strength into it.

An odd thing for him to lament about his primarch nature; Your nails or teeth with never leave marks on him. He would love nothing more than to have them, to feel the way they ache. Perhaps one of his fellow Primarchs might see them, and know he has something they cannot.

His hands were almost shaking as he removed his trousers, watching you keenly as you looked up at him.

You were so unafraid, and so eager. He never thought he'd see someone like this. Let alone you. All of those wandering thoughts he had alone are within reach, and in his desire to have them all he keeps you away until the sun is rising, and only then do you both finally get some rest.

"Mortarion."

He heard his name whispered in his ear, before a laugh followed. His eyes flickered behind his lids as he slowly awoke; It’s been far too long since he’s indulged in true sleep.

"Morty~"

He opened his eyes, and sees you leaning over him. He acts slightly irritated, but within himself he's conflicted over the feeling of seeing someone when he wakes up.

Your hands press against the pale skin of his chest as you lean slightly on him. He could see you were still a bit sleepy yourself, as you wrinkled your nose.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

His hollow cheeks shift as he swallowed the sticky morning taste in his mouth.

"No." He raises a hand and cups your jaw for a moment. "What did I say?" His hand falls back down. Nothing that would unsettle you, he hopes. He doesn't realize until this moment that he's glad he didn't have one of his night terrors this time; He could've very easily hurt you. Maybe even killed you. The thought makes his stomach sour.

"I couldn't understand most of it. You were mumbling." He silently expresses relief.

“Good.” You roll your eyes. Your stomach grumbles a moment later however, and Mortarion perks.

“You’re hungry? I’ll have the serfs get you something.” He moves to leave, but you grab his wrist before he does.

“Will you come back? I want to stay in bed with you for a bit longer… if you don’t mind.”

He stares at you for a moment.

He’ll feed you, and make sure you never go hungry. He’ll make sure you are no longer indebted to your lord, and you’ll never have to slave away for him. He’ll do anything to keep you with him, now that you’ve showed him so much kindness; so much want and desire.

“Yes. I’ll be back soon.”

[allnightstay]

~* Dream Storytime *~

So, I just had this dream and felt I HAD to share it with you.

TW: sneaky bellybutton tickles >.<

- I'm basically at a theme park designed to make you feel like you're visiting Hawaii or something.

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~

My mom and I were just finishing up doing something and met up with my dad and brother

- (I don't even have a brother in real life lmao but he's like 16 in my dream)

We were walking together until this brother of mine decided to head a different direction than where my parents were heading. Not wanting him to go alone, I decided to walk with him instead. We end up at some ride where it required us to take an elevator to get to the main attraction. There's a group of really cute looking guys ahead of us in line.

We all get on the elevator, but of course with my dreams being as random as they typically are, my brother and I get somewhat separated in this elevator we're in. I end being close to the door with those good looking guys right behind me, so packed in and close that I can feel the shirt of one of them on my back (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠).

As the elevator is going, it does some crazy bump that made us all shuffle, causing me to lean back heavily on the guy right behind me. I give the most shy apologetic over-the-shoulder look up at this guy saying sorry (blushing ofc). He smiles down at me and doesn't say anything.

*Next thing I know* I feel a hand sneakily touch and scratch at my tummy (mind you, I'm wearing a crop top in this dream) but when I look, I don't see anyone. Thinking I was maybe imagining it, I don't look behind me or anything.

*Then* I feel a finger lightly scratch at the outer edge of my bellybutton, causing me to hold in the biggest giggle ever. I was too embarrassed to even look at the guy behind me knowing it was definitely him. Instead, I look to see if anyone else noticed, and at my brother who gives me this "what are you looking at??" face.

We get off the elevator, and are at a ride that resembles a Titanic-like ship. Those guys go their own way and so do my brother and I. I couldn't stop thinking about what just happened and even more so that I wasn't even mad about it (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~

Andddd yeah that's pretty much the dream I had because I was woken up due to my alarm going off.

What's crazy is I VERY RARELY have tk dreams, so this totally took me by surprise. Kinda wanted to fall back asleep to see if I'd end up back there but here I am writing this instead xD

I hope you enjoyed ~

[deejadabbles]

Songs in the Kitchen (Bad Batch fluff)

Summary: You're appalled when you find out about your new team's lack of nutrition and...well, what fun is cooking without a little dancing? Hunter x GN Reader and (platonic) Omega and Reader. No warnings, just cute domestic fluff.

A.N: Got this idea while making dinner last night and listening to Temuera Morrison's cover of Can't Take My Eyes off You. So, you have Clone Daddy to thank for this XD Also!! I have a bone to pick with this song! All my life I thought the lyrics were "I would walk 500 miles" but it's not?? It's "roll"??? My whole life is a lie. Anyway, I hope you guys like this, reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

"If they ever upgrade this ship, you'll help me convince them to invest in an actual kitchen, right?"

For possibly the fifth time you had rammed your foot into Gonky as he, you, and Omega shuffled around the pitiful table that the soldiers insisted was 'fine enough' for food provisions.

Omega chuckled as she climbed onto said droid to give you some more room. "You got it! I think cooking will be really fun in a real kitchen!"

You smiled down at her, the light in her eyes instantly alleviating any annoyance your stubbed foot may have caused you. You still couldn't believe that you only just discovered last week that Omega, nor any of her clone siblings, had ever learned the basics of cooking. Wrecker insisted that shooting wildlife and spit-roasting them counted...you did not. There was a difference between survival hunting and actual cooking!

In fact, the batch had been quite unphased when you observed the fact that they only ever seemed to eat ration bars and whatever slop they got from local cantinas. That caused a whole uproar on your part, scolding all of them for not caring more about their health. Yes, eating ration bars during the war was...unfortunate, but a harsh necessity. Eating them while away on whatever job they took was...acceptable, you supposed. But when they spent days on a reasonable planet with plenty of resources?! You couldn't believe they thought it was rational to still only eat those dry, tasteless bricks!

So now, here you were carving out the tiniest space available on the ship in an effort to cook your friends a somewhat decent home-cooked meal. Omega, always the bright-eyed wonderer, was eager to help while her brothers were in town for supplies.

Right now 'helping' was mostly just learning, since there honestly wasn't much room for her to do much. But you appreciated the company.

You rummaged through a box of things Tech had gathered for you; things he said were 'adequate cooking substitutes' in lieu of actual utensils, searching for a pear knife. You managed to dig up a serrated vibro dagger....alright, good enough.

While you chopped away at a strange local fruit, and Omega looked on with rapt interest, you couldn't help but smile. Despite the odd circumstances, the whole setting was quite domestic, and you thought of how happy it made you, that Omega was getting her own version of such an experience. Omega, who, like her brothers, had never had parents to dote on them and teach them, to have simple, warm moments like this with.

You hadn't noticed that you were humming until your hips started moving to the melody in your head. It was such an old song, but one that always made you feel so, whimsical, perhaps?

After scooping the first fruit into the bowl you moved on to the next item, one that Hunter had mentioned trying in the market the other day.

Hunter.

The thought of him made some heat fill your cheeks. You wondered- or rather, hoped, that he would like the meal you were making. The night after you had made such a fuss over their eating, Hunter had mentioned something to you, a far-off look in his eye like usual, as if he had a million things on his mind and that was just the one floating to the surface.

"Meal times weren't exactly a good time for us," he'd mused, not even looking at you, "even during downtime on Kamino, it was just another reminder that we didn't belong, even among clones."

That confession, along with an off-handed comment Omega had once made about no one but her sitting with them in the mess hall made your heartache.

Well, this will just be your chance to make mealtime a good memory for them!

Even more determination swelled in your chest as you moved about the small space, you'd have each of them smiling over your food if it killed you!

In fact, with each in mind, you started portioning off Hunter's plate when it came time to add the seasoning. Couldn't have his enhanced senses going mad with too much spice.

That old melody came floating back to you again, as you thought of the handsome sergeant.

"Pardon the way that I stare There's nothin' else to compare The sight of you leaves me weak There are no words left to speak"

The lyrics came easily as you worked, they were words of something pure, innocent; a rarity in this galaxy. A silly little dance even weaved its way into your movements.

"But if you feel like I feel Please let me know that it's real You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off of you"

"What are you doing?"

Omega's sudden question snapped you out of your daze- just in time to ram your foot into Gonky again.

After shaking the limb out with a curse you looked up at the child with a brow raised, "Uh?"

"What was that? That strange talking?"

You tilted your head, "Um... you mean my singing?" Come on, you knew you weren't a concert vocalist or anything, but did she really think you were that bad?

Omega's eyes went wide with excitement, "Oh! That's what singing is?"

"You've never heard singing before?!"

Unabashed, the girl just shook her head, "No, I mean, I've heard music before. Every once in a while Nala Se would play some Kaminoian music while she worked, but it was just sounds, no voices."

You stood there stunned for a moment, unable to think of anything to reply with. Just what else had this poor girl been deprived of in her childhood? Now that you thought about it, you'd never heard the boys play any music either. Maker, you hoped they had at least heard singing before.

"Omega," you started after a moment, "would you like to hear some of my music collection while we cook?"

You honestly had not thought it possible for her eyes to sparkle more, but the little one managed it.

"So you think we got enough?" Wrecker groaned, shifting the crate on his shoulder.

Tech didn't look away from his data pad as he answered, "We acquired everything on the list we were given, I can't fathom there would be any reason for complaint. Even with our friend's sudden, irrational concern for our eating habits."

"Don't mock it like that," Echo chimed in, "I think the change in pace is nice. You can't tell me you actually like those ration bars day in and day out."

"I fail to see how 'like' is of any consequence," was all Tech huffed in response.

Hunter, who was walking ahead of them all, let out a sigh. He wanted to tell them to pick up the pace, but bit back the urge. You had insisted that you could scrape together the first meal with what you had on the ship already, but, if their haul from the market could make your task easier, he wanted to get it to you sooner rather than later.

All of this was just so...sweet of you to begin with. Hunter never wanted to complain about anything regarding their life style, not during the war, not now, it was what it was, and he accepted that. You could have done the same, but instead, you went out of your way to improve things.

Hell, you could have just balked at their lifestyle, and made your own, separate from them, made your own food to eat in your own part of the ship. Instead, you had decided to include them all in your efforts, even putting up with their grumbles and gripes with that cute, bossy attitude you got when you were determined.

Hunter found the whole thing incredibly endearing.

Not to mention your inclusion of Omega. You were giving the little one an experience, a memory that she would carry with her always. The sergeant felt his lips curl up at the thought. You were a good companion for Omega...you were a good companion for all of them.

Unfortunately, his happy little musings were brought to a screeching halt as his hearing picked up on something. His enhanced senses did that a lot, noticing things before his brain could really register them. They were nearing the ship and, had the voices sounded distressed, he would have been on high alert. Instead, they sounded...was that, singing?

"When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you When I get drunk, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you!"

The sound was almost foreign to Hunter's ears, your's and Omega's voices sounded quite different, but it was definitely your vocals crooning over what he now realized was music.

"What is that sound?" Tech asked behind him. They had gotten close enough now that even his brothers could hear it. Hunter could just imagine the shrugs and confused looks they were giving each other as he opened the door at the top of the loading ramp.

"And I would roll 500 miles And I would roll 500 more Just to be the man who rolls a thousand miles To fall down at your door"

In all the years he'd been aboard the Marauder with his team, he'd never seen something quite like this. Your music blared through the ship's speakers while you and Omega danced in the small space he'd cleared for your make-shift kitchen.

"When I'm working, yes I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's working hard for you!"

You threw something into the sizzling pan atop the would-be hotplate Echo had improvised for you, before leaning down and taking Omega's hands in a silly little jig of a dance.

"And when the money, comes in for the work I do I'll pass almost every penny on to you"

"Hey hey!" Wrecker cheered, dropping the crate in the doorway, "A dance party!" and just like that he joined the happy fray.

Your eyes lit up upon seeing them, and if he'd thought you would stop, he was wrong.

"When I come home(When I come home), well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you!"

Your dance turned into some jabbing motions, aimed at them to go along with the apt lyrics. Hunter was glad you didn't stop, with the delighted look on your face and the squeal of delight from Omega as Wrecker lifted her atop his shoulders, his soft smile was back tenfold.

"Well," Tech began, the smallest traces of amusement in his voice, "things are certainly lively with them around."

Lively indeed, because when the song's chorus picked up again, no one was safe from the infectious, joyous mood. Wrecker lunged forward, leaving Omega to grab hold of both Tech and Echo and drag them to the proverbial dance floor.

In turn, Hunter felt a warm hand grab his, and you pulled him into a bouncing dance that would have been right at home around a bonfire.

His face felt a little hot despite himself, but he looked down at you, a fondness in his eye he didn't even know he was capable of as you sang along with the song.

"When I'm lonely, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the one who's lonely without you"

Hunter couldn't help himself, he tuned out the actual song, focusing wholly on your voice as it wrapped around the words. And, for just a little while, Hunter imagined that you were singing them to him and him alone.

"And when I'm dreaming, well I know I'm gonna dream I'm gonna Dream about the time when I'm with you"

Maybe someday you would sing for him, but for now, he was content with this.

"When I go out, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the one who goes along with you"

He took a chance, and pulled you in just a little closer as he tried to keep up with your silly dance.

"And when I come home, yes I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the one who comes back home with you"

Yeah, he was more than content with this, for now.

"I'm gonna be the man who's coming home with you"

[omoghouls]

I also imagine that Emmrich is too polite to ask the party to stop for a break. He can wait until someone else wants to stop, surely! No need to create a fuss on his behalf! …except he keeps waiting for someone to speak up, but no one does. He finally breaks and asks to stop when things get urgent, but now he’s waited too long and still has to deal with his complicated outfit!

Y E SS AAAA-

He's so sure that Bellara would be asking to a quick pit stop (girlie def has the second smallest bladder of the gang, she gives that energy xD) but nope it seems like everyone seemed to use the privy before they left.

All except Emmerich-in his defense he was a bit busy,,,convincing manfred that he doesn't need the quill knife (many sad hisses as Emm places the knife very high up) so he wasn't able to go!

Poor guy is suffering- nearly stumbling over exposed roots as they walk around the Arlathan forest (they're looking for an artifact that may aid them) his bladder constantly nagging at him with growing urgency as the minuets pass by. But, this is an issues of his own, not something he wants to cause a hinderance for everyone else!

But, it doesn't seems like there is going to be a pause in their exploration anytime soon. So, when Emm feels that jetting leak moistening his inner thighs, he knows this isn't something he can wait on.

He's very flowery with his words, saying the weirdest things, any thing that makes him not have to outright say he needs to pee xD (ofc, Taash or Darvin catch on and are like, "Just go piss, man" which, gets Emm all flustered as he doesn't want to outright admit they're right)

It's all just a bit tooo late- Emm shuffles off to a somewhat private area (after making sure he isn't going to be peeing on any skeletons or smth) and he starts to try and get his pants unbuttoned- his thighs keep pressing together to keep some control over his overfilled bladder, fingers trembling as they try to unclasp the darn belt he had added overtop his slacks- he knaws on the inside of his cheek, trying to not whine or make a peep while little leaks of urine seep out-

His body trembles as he knows it's too late- he body can't take it anymore and those lovely light coloured pants quickly become a lovely dark shade, glistening in the sun as urine hisses out and puddles beneath him.

Everyone is very confused when he comes back with that coat of his buttoned up and him smelling strongly of some church incense (why did he think that would cover up the smell of pee? He panicked okay??).

Then, right on cue comes manfred. A pleased little hiss as he holds out a dry pair of pants for Emm (Manfred is just happy to be there and gets to help- much to Emm's embarrassment as it's infront of everyone xD)

[starkwub]

(Tw: Starkercest)

Mob boss! Tony and his son, Peter (super out of the blue idea (considering I usually never write mob Au's), but figured I'd write it down ha!)

Just thought of Mob boss Tony allowing Peter, his prized possession son, go out on his own to live life since the boy had been harping about it for ages. Peter wanted to feel like all the other kids in his class. He didn't want body guards or exuberant allowances--nothing.

Tony of course couldn't say no after having done so for years-but that didn't mean he wouldn't be tricky about it.

Peter didn't have to know that he hired people to go to his house and be sketchy--knocking on the door at strange hours of the night or tampering with his window. Perhaps even telling the men to make creeping sounds within the home, just so Peter might feel more afraid of being on his own. He'd get people to stare at him on the streets, or following him after a late night shift at work in a dark hoodie with a jangling set of keys in their pockets so the boy would know they were there.

At first Peter wasn't all too fazed--thinking that it was just another one of 'dad's undercover body guards', but after a while--with his Dad denying the accusations and having not recognized any of the gruff and uneasy looking faced that met his gaze, the paranoia started to set in.

When it got to the point where Peter couldn't sleep for hardly a wink before startling at a creak in the floorboards or a brushing knock at his door--he did the only thing he possibly could think to do in that instance.

Call his Dad.

Sniffling, Peter grappled for his phone in the dark and clicked on his dad's profile, hearing the dial on the other end and then the un-familar beeping.

Why wasn't he picking up?. He always picked up.

It had been nearly 15 seconds before the beeping stoped and then came a sleep-laden voice on the other end.

"What is it baby? It's late, you should be asleep by now."

Peter shivered at the comforting voice and huddled a bit in the bed, pulling the blankets up and over top of his knees.

"Dad I.." He sniffled, looking worryingly at his bedroom door,

"I wanna come home. Just to visit--of course."

When his dad pressed on the topic, wonder why such a sudden thought had crossed his mind at three am, Peter just pouted and wrapped an arm around his knees tightly.

"Haven't seen you in a while s'all.." and suddenly his tone turned sour, "Why? You don't want me there?"

Tony coo'd and seemed to ruffle his bedding on the other side of the phone before speaking in a tone that Peter knew all too well.

"Of course I want to see you baby. Wish you where here right now so all you had to do was knock on my door, crawl into bed, and tell Daddy what's wrong instead of calling from a state that's a million miles away."

Daddy. Peter's heart thumped in his chest wildly at the honorific. It'd been so long..too long, since he'd heard it.

"It's not a million, jeez.." Peter retorted, suddenly remembering back to what it felt like to be with his Dad. His room somehow was always so much warmer than his own, and as he flexed his fingers to feel them stiffen from the chill, he sighed.

"I'll see you tomorrow then? I'm off with this weekend so I'll let them know I can't do any overtime."

"Mm.." Tony hummed, shuffling a bit more, "Alright sweetheart."

They stayed on the line for a few moments longer, and as Peter yawned, now letting his body slip back down to the crappy mattress, he breathed out against his phone.

"Want me to stay on the line?"

Peter nodded sleepily, knowing that his Dad couldn't see it, nor hear it, so he let out a muffled hum of his own, enjoying the subtle deep chuckle that came from his father's throat in response.

-- -- --

There can always be more, but I'm going to stop it here and count it as a win that I've finally written and posted something on here again XD I've been so enamored by the Harry Potter fandom as of late so my mind has taken to straying away from Starker more than usual

Hope everyone is doing okay! :)

[panboiiibish]

Theres blood...

Blood?

Why??

Fuck...

what did I do?!

What happened why am I covered in blood?!

I dont even recognize my reflection, it's so covered in red that only wide terror filled eyes come through.

Why am I covered in blood?

Oh gods...

It hurts.

Why?

Fuck my stomach feels like its filled to the brim...

Toilet.

Rushing to the toilet the brunning volcano thankfully doesn't erupt through my lips onto the floor. It plops into the shit water with a heavy sound as tears cascade down my face.

Fuck it hurts, why is there so much?!

It's just more blood. It fills the toilet bowl as the seat is covered in my bloody hand prints.

Fuucckkk....

WHAT DID I DO?!

Whimpers escape my lips as I raise on trembling legs. A pain shoots through my body worse then just a normal ache or cramp. It starts in many places. My stomach is the worst, but as I shift my weight to take a step away from the bloodied mess iv made I stumble and bite back a whine from a shot of white static running up my heel.

It's bad.

This is bad.

I feel like I've survived a car wreck only to be stranded without medical help.

What happened?

Why cant I remember things?

FUCK!

My foot really hurts but I wasn't expecting to have another pang of pain when I grabbed onto the door handle for stability.

Shit my hand.

It looks so bad..

Theres blood everywhere but I can at least see the palm of my hand looks torn through. Like with a dull knife.

Why would I know what a dull knife wound looks like?

I wobble through the bathroom door while contemplating my missing memory. Pinprick eyes darting around to find if there are any others in this seemingly empty building. A groan leaving my chapped lips as another pang of pain comes from my stomach. My, for now, good hand reaches down and presses onto the point of pain. And I'm greeted with a hiss from my own lips. Bullet wound, I've been shot... and from the pain weaving through to my back it thankfully was a through and through.

Why do I know this?

Who am I?

Shuffling down the corridor my bloodied hand leaves a trail on the pristine white wall in a sad attempt to keep myself steady. It was hard with every step shooting more pain through my calf and any tension made bile rise back through my esophagus.

Tears pricked my waterline once more but I tried to hold them back. It didnt feel right crying right now. Nothing feels right.

Why is this happening...

Were am i..?

This place looks so desolate. With every shift of my feet dust is kicked up and covered the legs of my... My camo pants?

Why am I wearing camo?

A string of groans and grunts have from my lips as my wounds only burn more. The exertion of my already battered body only making the blood loss worse. Along with the racing of my broken mind. Nothing makes sense and the pure silance only sends a deep chill down my spine.

Its early morning depending on the bright golden lighting filling in from distant windows. But I don't really have the mind to look out at the world. Instead i keep on shuffling. Trying to keep my whimpers and groans at a quiet as i still dont understand what is happening.

Please.....

What did I do?

Why is this happening..?

Did I kill someone?

My mind is battling against a hazy fog covering any kind of memories I could try and think of. While static black starts to fade into the corners of my eyes going unnoticed from the mix of emotions piling in my mind.

I don't know how I got here.

Or what I'm doing.

Why am I wounded?

And...

Who am I?

Hii! Its Pan! This is very different from my normal writing but it's an idea iv had for an while. Just wanted something dark and gritty after all the light and fluffy stuff I write. It is in my bio that I do dark work. X3 Welp give me your thoughts on this one! Might make this into an x reader if its liked, or it might go into the lore of one of my ocs. Maybe both XD Anyways have a nice night!

[vellatra]

Rewrite the Stars for Silen Fah for the music prompts.

Sanatra propaganda real I'M JUST KIDDING DO WHATEVER YOU WANT. XD XD

Honestly I kind of predict a Zac and Joy reaction from your brain, but we'll see. (Studies you under a magnifying glass.)

...You know we could do a lot of different ships with this song. Sanoj/Vellatra would be a good one, but Zac/Aileev(Joy) is also a good idea (along with the other human x "alien" ships, Nen/Vixie and Ryan/Tannufia). Originally, I was actually planning on making this a Nen Krixie snippet.

But then I listened again. And I kept thinking. And actually there's an even more fitting couple for this prompt....

This totally got out of hand and isn't a snippet so much as a chapter but whateverrrrrrr thanks for the inspo!

Everyone looked at the sky now and then.

It was just a good habit to have, this far from the Pedestal. You never knew when raiders might show up from the Mervaen, and if you could see them coming ahead of time, so much the better.

But that wasn't why I kept looking at it.

I couldn't stop thinking about it, that time when, for a few short minutes, I'd been up there. It had been so scary, but so exhilarating, all at once. I couldn't stop thinking about the boy who'd taken me up there, either. My chances were pretty much nonexistent, but deep down, I kind of wished I'd see him again. He'd seemed so nice. He was even kind of cute. We could've been friends, if he wasn't from the Mervaen.

I kicked a rock on the path ahead of me. "Stupid war," I grumbled under my breath. It didn't even feel like we were fighting for something anymore, it had gone on for so long.

Then something did move up in the sky - a shadow went over the trail. I jumped and ducked for the undergrowth, arms over my head, braced for an attack.

I heard a pair of feet landing lightly where I'd been, only moments before. Then the leaves began to rustle as the fi pushed his way toward me. I crouched as low as I could and held my breath, praying that I blended in.

"Oh, good," said a soft, familiar voice. "I was hoping it was you."

I straightened back up. "Drackio?!"

"You can't be comfortable in that bramble bush," he laughed, backing away and returning to the open path. "Come on!"

I gingerly plucked myself out of the thorns and clambered out after him. "What in the world are you doing here this time?"

"It's my mom's birthday," said Drackio, shuffling a little awkwardly. "She loves pikolah berries, so I thought maybe... maybe I could scavenge some for her? They're so expensive where we live, especially for a kid with no job."

"Hmm," I said. "Well, it's a little early in the season, but I know a few good places we could check." I hesitated a little, then took his hand. "Come on, I'll show you!"

"Thanks," said Drackio, looking at his shoes. Was that... a bit of a blush? I willed those thoughts away and started walking. Don't even think about it, I told myself. This is just a second lucky meeting. I'll never see him again.

You know, I really needed to stop telling myself that.

**********

As unlikely as I thought it was, I kept bumping into Drackio again and again. First he was looking for pikolaen. Then he was trying to learn how to catch fish. Then he was just bored and going for a joy flight, but happened to go by my neck of the woods. Then... well, the excuses got weaker and weaker.

Things really came to a head late that winter, when he sidled out of the woods right on the edge of our back yard, one arm behind his back.

"What are you doing?!" I hissed, shooing him back into the trees. "You can't come here! My father's in the army. We'd both be in so much trouble!"

"Sorry," he said, hanging his head a little.

His puppy eyes caught me off guard. "What are you up to this time?" I asked, more gently.

"I came to see you, actually," he said. "You said you get kind of sad, after the snow's been falling for so long. You miss the grass and birds and flowers. Well, anyway... spring comes sooner in Nahbi Harumvah. And... I thought these might help cheer you up." He drew out his hand from behind his back, revealing a large bunch of flowers, in varying shades of blue. There was a faint glow to them.

"...Oh my," I said. "What kind are they?"

"Vee tiz Ornaru," he said. "Those trees grow everywhere in there, but you don't have many out here, do you?"

"They're beautiful," I said, accepting the bouquet and bringing it up to my nose. I smiled over them at my friend. "Thank you. This does make me happy." I held out one hand, which he took, and led the way deeper into the woods, to the skating pond. No one else was there today - the ice was too thin this late in the season; it wasn't safe for skating anymore. I brushed the snow off a fallen log and we settled there. "We need to talk." Drackio eyed me a little nervously. "We're obviously not bumping into each other by mistake anymore," I started.

Drackio snorted and started giggling. "To be honest," he said, his face rapidly turning red, "I've sought you out on purpose every time. Well, except for the first time of course."

"Why?" I said, also blushing.

"I'd hoped you'd figured that out already," he said, looking at the ground again. Even his ears were tomato red by now.

"No, I know that," I said. "But what made you think I was worth all this? Where are you trying to go with me? I... don't know if you've forgotten, but I'm a jeltura."

"To be fair," said Drackio, looking me in the eyes again, "right at first, I just wanted a friend. You know I don't really have any at home. But you... you were nice to me, even though we were enemies. And then... then I started noticing other things about you. Like your sense of fun. And your beautiful eyes. All your forest wisdom, and your willingness to teach a clueless fi like me. And... well. It didn't take much to make me fall for you. Where we were going? I thought about that. I probably should've stayed away as soon as I realized I was in love. But I couldn't stand it. Every waking moment we're not together, I'm wishing we were. Or I'm thinking about giving you flowers," he added, gesturing at the bouquet with a sheepish little smile. He hung his head again. "I'm sorry. It was selfish. If you want me to go away, I will."

"Don't you think it's a little late for that?" I groaned. "You're right, we should've parted ways a lot earlier than this. Now I don't want to. But it's either that, or keep meeting like this. And how long can we go on this way?" My face was so hot I wanted to rub it in the snow by now, but I pushed on. "You know what most people do after they've courted for awhile."

"Courted?!"

"That's what you've been doing, isn't it? What else would you call... this?" I asked, now taking my own turn gesturing at the flowers.

Drackio put his head in his hands. "You're right. By the grandparents, I have been courting you. Ohhhh no."

"But we can't do what most people do," I went on. "I'm the daughter of an officer in the army of Silen Fah. They wouldn't be caught dead binding me off to a Mervatur."

"So I should go," said Drackio.

"No," I said, more quickly than I'd meant to. "Erm... I can't bear it either. Being away from you, I mean. But what are we to do?"

Drackio was quiet for awhile, as I stared into his deep magenta eyes. Finally, he furrowed his eyebrows a little. Then he tilted his head to one side. "I don't know," he finally said. "But... who says we have to make a decision today? You're right, it can't go on like this forever. But there's nothing wrong with tomorrow, is there? Next week? Maybe... maybe something will come up. Something that helps us make a decision. Maybe the war will finally end."

"The one that's been going on for decades?" I asked.

"Well... you never know," he chuckled awkwardly, looking away. Then he glanced back up at me. "Listen, Llefar-ta. I love you. They say where there's a will, there's a way. And I'm willing to look for that way if you are. But I don't want to waste your time or break your heart or whatever else, either. So..." he trailed off, holding my gaze. "...Goodness, you're beautiful," he said softly. I found myself leaning slowly in....

[asher-writes]

Aaand then how about some “worth the wait.” for Neptune? :0

Though I couldn't decide if it would fit her first kiss with Ari or Eddie better, so your pick there XD

~ M <3

Amusement is worn easily on her face, it suits her well, Ari thought, almost a little enraptured by his old friend. "Ana has been putting you to work, then?" He asked, tentative. Neptune snorted, wiping oil off her face with oilier hands. She seemed unbothered, and he found the sight of her all ruffled and dirty all the more endearing. "I paid attention to some shit, after all," she shrugged, her grin holding less amusement than her eyes, which almost glittered with the same mischief he'd always expected of her "...how have you been?" "Good...yeah...good." "And Edward?" "Fine, he's...we're fine." She nodded, her smile slipping just a little as she returned to wiping down the mechanical skeleton with a filthy rag. "He's excited to see you again, you know?" "Who wouldn't be?" "This is true." He easily found that warmth in her eyes. The interest that had always made him feel so special and unique. The love, he realised, even after all these years, remained. "Neptune, I-I realise that last time we met...we both had a lot to consider-" "Ah, it's okay, I get it, you know-" "Well, you won't unless you let me finish talking." He tutted. She raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of her lip twitching into a smile as he tried not to blush. "Apologies," her tone could not have layered more sarcasm if she'd tried. "Lying to him wasn't even an option - and even if he didn't know our history together, I'm not in the habit of burning a bridge before it's even been built...any more." She exhaled a confused laugh through her nose, shaking her head. "So I was honest with him about my feelings for you, and he was understanding, we discussed options and outcomes, but we shelved much of the conversation for a time you could be part of it." "I...I don't understand what there is to talk about...?" Ari's cheeks were flushed with the sudden heat of the room, shuffling awkwardly where he stood. She studies him a second, before her lips part to a soft 'oh.' "Well, ultimately Edward suggested that there's no requirement for me to be in a relationship with only one person, actually he found that quite odd...as did April, but I assumed that was an April issue." "Yeah, as it turns out, the rest of Arcadia isn't so focused on the whole 'one person for life' thing; but I didn't think you-" She shook her head. "I'm happy to try, at least." "Excellent!" His face broke into a relieved smile, his shoulders unwinding as he stepped towards her. Hesitance lingered as a new shyness overtook him; the lights of the workroom gleaming on her skin, her bright eyes meeting his. "This is the part where you kiss me," she commands softly. He bristles a little, cracking individual fingers against his knuckles. His nails are still digging into his palms when he inches the remaining spaces with floundering hesitance. She only watches him with the amusement of an owner watching a puppy learn to walk. With a roll of her eyes, she wrapped her oil-stained hands in his coat and pulled their bodies together. Neptune's strength amazed him as much as it caused his heart to leap into his throat. But his heartbeat is more than swallowed by her lips as she eases him into something that holds no hesitance. Frantic, hungry, with the feeling of finally being at peace. "Worth the wait," she exhaled through a hard kiss. He could only catch his breath before her teeth caught skin, and she sunk against him. A relieved sigh passes from one to another, her air in his lungs, and his hands on her hips. Nothing was worth the time apart. But that didn't matter now.

Prompt Fill Taglist:

@rickie-the-storyteller @mayarab @gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream @kaylinalexanderbooks @sender-paulson

[vostok3-ka]

Oooo how about “pass me that lovely little gun” sounds pretty interesting hehe

Hiiii!! Thank you for the ask! This one was supposed to be a fic that explores Bucky's relationship with Natasha, from training her in the Red-Room to becoming lovers, along with my take on what the Soldier experienced during his time in Russia. I thought it would be a really interesting subject matter to explore, and I really hoped to put together a really thoughtful little story, although, I will admit it has stood abandoned for nearly six months XD! Here is a little snippet featuring classic gaslighting and brainwashed thought patterns, as well as a happy/mournful Soldier:

Thunder rumbled in the skies, rolling across the city on its belly. The Soldier's hair ruffled slightly in the breeze, dark waves barely brushing the tips of his ears. Rain drizzled from the heavens, dusting the top of his head and shoulders with a gentle silver, and street-lamps washed the sidewalks a soft gold. The Soldier's eyes kept flicking to where the rain got caught in the light. It was captivating, and something behind the Soldier's chest felt satisfied, content. Quiet. It was a rare calm in an otherwise rolling storm, a break between missions. The target had been eliminated a day before schedule and the Soldier had received no orders for an early extraction, leaving him alone to roam Moscow as he pleased; a devil in the shadows, skirting the edges of society. Unbidden, an image of a book he'd received from a soldier during his deployment in Vietnam flashed to the front of his mind, and he could almost feel the smooth cover of "The Master and Margarita" between his hands. He'd been entranced by the characters, pulled into a world of magic and mischief, relishing in the escape from the rot and death and the mosquitos, although he didn't think he was capable of contracting malaria. Not daring to take the book with him back to Hydra lest they 'relieved' him of it, he'd stashed it along with his other meagre belongings in a cache somewhere between Vladimir and Lakinsk, and, due to his unreliable memory, he'd slipped the co-ordinates to Alexei. The big man was a true patriot; he would serve his country to his last breath. But he was sentimental. And he wasn't unstable the way the Soldier was. Getting his brains scrambled every now and then in a haze of exploding pain, seizing muscles and bleeding throats wasn't fun. But it was necessary. Shuffling slightly beneath the overhang he'd stood under, watching the rain for what was coming up to an hour, the Soldier mourned for a moment. Mourned for the way his mind shattered and cracked under its own pressure, for the way his psyche had been so damaged somewhere in an accident he couldn't remember. For the way memories felt like searing fire burning behind his eyes, so much so that it was best not to think of lives gone past.

Thank you bunches for the ask and have a lovely day!!!!

[artemis-entreri]

Sorry if this is a dumb question, but can you please post links to your review of Lolth's Warrior? I love your reviews and can't find your Lolth's Warrior one. Thanks!

[[ Greetings!

Not a dumb question at all! ^_^ The reason that you can't find it is because it doesn't exist. XD In fact, I still haven't read the book yet, and I don't know when/if I will. I'm thinking that this is a good thing, as apparently even among the most diehard Drizzt fans there have been some very negative reactions to Lolth's Warrior, more so than ever.

If you follow me, you've probably noticed a significant drop in my activity. I've been greatly enjoying investing my time in other things, which is something I've been wanting to do for a while now but my brain wouldn't stop being hung up over these characters. It's no secret that I've been tired of Salvatore's BS for a long time, but I was too invested in the characters to be able to move on.

I think what finally helped me flip the switch is WotC investing a shitload of money to make Drizzt products, especially with whitewashed Artemis even though it's 2023. With the context of them also giving the excuse that they couldn't pay the other creatives who worked on their setting at market standard rates in the past along with their actions with the OGL earlier in the year, well, suffice to say that while I haven't respected Salvatore for a long time I did respect WotC, however after everything that happened this year, that has changed. I'm not sure how much WotC execs are responsible for the recent mass lay-offs, which in itself is really bad, but the fact that Mike Mearls was finally let go doesn't really help WotC's case for me because it only serves as a reminder of how Mearls wasn't fired earlier for assisting his sex abuser friend (he was instead quietly shuffled to the video games division for a while). When Mearls returned to the D&D division, about half a dozen female D&D staffers quit at the same time. This says to me that WotC cares more about a male sex abuser supporter than they do about all those female members of their staff, and it makes me question whether they care about women and oppressed groups in general. I've really started to question how much hypocrisy is present in their making a huge show of being LGBT+ inclusive; recent D&D products do indeed include a lot of LGBT+ representation, but how much of that is due to Jeremy Crawford having to fight to get it in there each time? How could WotC continue to march in Pride parades with pomp and circumstance while allowing the Mearls incident to have transpired?

When the OGL snafu happened, a friend made the comment that WotC may have had its ups and downs in the past but overall was generally viewed in a positive light by many, but that the OGL fiasco has probably bankrupted them from a "good will" perspective for a while. This is basically where I'm at with the company now. I still care a great deal about Ed Greenwood and the authors who penned the works that led me to fall in love with the world so hard, and while I still play D&D and care about FR, I'm at a point where I feel like WotC has demonstrated a clear lack of regard for their own Drizzt franchise, so much so that they don't even bother to get basic facts about one of its primary characters correct. As such, what's the point in me continuing to care? While I also don't care about how WotC feels about me as an individual fan, I've long been distasteful of how dismissive they are of their most dedicated fans, the ones who have spent hundreds of thousands of unpaid hours curating the (in)consistencies of their universe that they themselves can't be bothered to maintain. I can understand the reasons for WotC actively instructing their creatives to not use the FR Wiki, but it's painfully obvious that those creatives including Salvatore still use it to keep their facts straight because there is no comparable official resource for them internally with the company itself. Furthermore, the stuff that WotC is continuing to do suggest that they have no intention to change that, quite the opposite in fact. It was quite eyebrow-raising when WotC compared their D&D franchise to the Marvel universe, because what makes the Marvel universe so compelling and successful is the very self-consistency that WotC is trying to do away with in D&D. A big part of the reason why Marvel movies are loved is because it's the same characters that recur, and you never know if a character from a different movie will show up in the movie you're currently watching, but it's always a delight when they do. And, of course, it's so epic when all of those storylines across many different movies all come together and culminate in truly astounding ways. Despite the usage of an infinite multiverse in Marvel, there's this big sense of consistency, which is what makes the franchise so impressive and compelling. Marvel's world is everything that D&D's is not, at least in D&D's current iteration. Even though many different stories across a shared world is part of the draw of FR for me, I don't need D&D to be like Marvel, however because WotC made that comparison of the current D&D world to the Marvel world, I can't help but feel like WotC is more talk than action. I'm not at all saying that D&D isn't a quality product, it's just for me the shine of WotC is no longer there.

I think the biggest indicator for me that I was ready to shift my focus was my lukewarm reception of Baldur's Gate 3. It is everything that I hoped for and more for a current generation Forgotten Realms/D&D video game, and yet I was just ok about it. Here is FINALLY something that I spent so many years dreaming about, getting more and more hungry for it following the flops of Sword Coast Legends and the Dark Alliance reboot, but when it finally happened, I was just ok about it. It's a fantastic game and 110% deserving of its awards and its huge fan acclamation, and yet I was just ok about it. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoyed the game, but I can't see myself playing it again.

I'm still happy to help and support the people in this fandom, be it by answering lore questions, suggesting novels to read, pointing the way to resources, or with more serious matters. I don't know how much new content I'll make though, I've got a bunch of WIPs in terms of art and writing, as well as miscellaneous drafts containing information about the world, but I don't know if I'll ever feel like finishing them/polishing them up to post. It's very freeing to no longer feel compelled to read each new Drizzt book because the drop in quality with each new installment has really been immense, and I'm a lot happier not spending those hours consuming really badly-written media. I do feel bad for no longer providing for those who want to know what's happening in the newer books but don't feel like reading them and who want to know a non-sycophantic summary of them, but hey, maybe someone will step up and fill in the summaries for the books. I'm not really sure why none of the diehard Drizzt/Salvatore super fans have undertaken the task since Hero. Wikis are editable by anyone, but the Wiki staff do try to make sure that everything is objective and factual.

If you're trying to find my old stuff, I'm sorry that my tags are kind of all over the place, I never got around to organizing them better. 😅 I *think* I've reblogged all of my LoD art to my otp-jartemis sideblog, but now that I look at it I see that's probably not the case. If you like my art though and want to continue seeing it even if it's not in this fandom, it'll be on my non-fandom specific blog: sno4wy.tumblr.com

This isn't goodbye, as I'll still be here now and then, I just won't be as invested, which is honestly a really great feeling. :> ]]

[skeletonsfortea]

wow, has anyone ever told you you're great at writing?? your ideas are so cool!

if it's possible! could you create a fluffy blurb some time after Ending 3 with sans and y/n? i was kind of down earlier and wanted to see some hurt characters be not so hurt :) and if it could include some purring id bev really happy! but its okay if it doesn't, i just love purring!! thank you!

oh - and if i could also tell you a silly viewpoint I have on your character? I like to imagine sans as a feral abused stray cat that lives behind a house who lashes out in fear and hurts you whenever he thinks you're getting too close. but with a lottttt of work, and i mean a lot, he'll eventually stop scratching up your hand, realizing he's in a safe space, that he doesn't have to act so tough, and finally melt into the hug he's never let himself have. and well cats view their human as servants so it isn't too far off!

Haha your analogy isn't too far off ;)

And no problem! I hope your day gets better!

Allow me to share a secret-

Sans was never supposed to have any possibility of redemption ;) but when I was writing ending 3, he kinda just...wasn't an asshole? I was like "hey you're not supposed to do that-" but here we are XD

Anyway. Fluff-

Sans sighs, staring at his empty bottle. He's going to have to get more. He's already used a lot of his gold, though. He won't be able to afford it for much longer. Which is stupid. Really, what the hell does Grillby even need money for? His head snaps up when he hears a creak. You're coming down the stairs, and there's something in your expression that has him uncomfortable.

"The fuck's wrong with you?" He asks.

"Is Papyrus home?" You ask rather than answer. His smile twitches upwards. So you're dodging questions now? It's irritating, but he's not in the mood to punish you. He ignores that he hasn't been "in the mood" since what happened in the shed.

"Nope," he leans back into the couch. You release a watery sigh, and he tracks your movements as you shuffle over to the couch. You stop in front of him, hesitant, your breath shallow, and he raises a brow. "Something you've got to say?"

"I had a nightmare."

"That sucks. Want me to sing you a lullaby?"

Your expression doesn't change. "No." His smile twitches downwards.

"What, can't take a joke? Tell me what you want already." He hisses, noticing that you're shaking, just slightly.

"W-would you get up?"

He frowns. "Keep being vague, kid. I'm sure it'll help." He leans further back.

"Fine." You growl, "I-I'm..." rather than continue, you release a sob. Your shaking grows worse, a tremor running up your spine and through your shoulders. "I'm fucking...I'm just lonely."

"What was that?" He asks despite hearing you just fine.

"I need a fucking hug before I...please. I don't ask for much. I don't ask for anything. B-but I need this."

...for a moment, the silence lengthens.

A hug? From him?

...well, you would have asked Papyrus first, if he was here.

How long has it been since Sans has given a hug? At least three years. Maybe longer. He sighs and gets up. You flinch slightly, but he just spreads his arms.

"Well?"

You shudder, but move in. His soul starts humming immediately, worried over the proximity, but he does his best to ignore it. Your arms wrap around him, and he returns the hug after a moment. Your chin rests on his shoulder, your chest expanding against his.

His soul starts to calm.

Fuck.

Then it starts to buzz.

Don't you fucking dare.

His bones rattle slightly as the buzz strengthens.

I'll fucking kill you.

As if to call his bluff, the buzz becomes a purr. Warmth flushes through his face.

Shit.

You freeze. "Uh..."

His arms tighten around you, "say a fucking word and we're going to the shed."

You go quiet, and for a next couple of seconds, you both stand in silence.

Well, aside from his obnoxiously loud purring.

...the heat does not fade from his face.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Ooohhh I love instrumentals it’s so hard to pick just one XD but my favorite is probably “Rain” from Halo 3: ODST.

Goosebumps on her skin. A chill in her bones. Fabric scratching at her. Moisture flicking at her. Hard boards beneath her.

Zelda sat, overwhelmed and enamored in all the sensations around her. Her time fighting Ganon had been... otherworldly, dissociating her from herself in a constant battle of will and magic. She had forgotten the feeling of her own skin, and what little she did remember was clouded in malice - she had been protected by magic, she had heard Hylia's voice, she had been blinded and lost and found and warm and cold and everything and nothing.

And now she was back in the physical world. Now she was wearing different clothes, clean from the dirt and blood that had stained her very being for the last century, now she wasn't in Hyrule Castle but in Kakariko Village, sitting on the porch to Impa's abode as it rained.

Zelda hesitantly held out her hands, cupping them. She paused just before reaching out beyond the overhang of the roof. The pitter patter of the rain was soothing, a gentle lullaby in comparison to the constant scream of the Calamity, the hum of her magic, the voice of the goddess.

Feet shuffled beside her, and she saw Link sit down. He looked out at the rain silently, exhaustion etched into his features. He was so much more expressive now, even in his silence. It made Zelda's heart hurt to think this was the man hidden underneath the stoic mask all those years ago. She was glad he didn't remember the pain of the past, but she also felt horrible for it. She had torn his life away from him, ripped him of everything he'd known himself to be in an attempt to save Hyrule.

It probably would have been a mercy to let him die. But she hadn't been feeling merciful. She'd been feeling desperate and alone.

And Hyrule had been saved for it.

Zelda could never thank him enough for everything he had done for her kingdom and for her. She felt like even speaking to him was demanding too much of his time. Yet here he was, spending his waking moments with her.

The princess watched him a moment longer and then something distinctly cold and wet slapped against her fingers, making her jump, startled at the almost foreign sensation. Her hands had extended just far enough in her distraction, and now the rain was slowly collecting in her palms. Zelda marveled at it.

The whole world felt so new and different. In a way, she was just as reborn as Link was.

Speaking of Link, the Hero of Hyrule was now looking at her. His eyes were soft, a gentle smile pulling at his lips. The peace of the village settled over both of them, and Zelda's arms trembled to remain stretched out as her eyes stung with tears. She felt so disconnected from herself, so out of control and alone in this once familiar land. Hyrule was so vastly different, so much emptier, in such desperate need of rebuilding.

Link's arm slowly wrapped around her, warm and comfortable, a strong brace to lean against, a protection of safety that she didn't deserve but took nonetheless. The princess let her head be guided to his shoulder, rain slipping easily out of her hands as she hugged herself. A silent understanding hung in the air between the two, and Zelda closed her eyes, listening to the rain.

[dandelion-wings]

Aaaand I was not going to write Jean's re-summoning of Kaeya today, but @prplzorua asked a question about the last ficlet, and then D&D was going slow, and... welp. This is kind of the piece that I'd turn into the start/first chapter of a longfic if @theabysscomeshome and I were going to longfic this, leading through the beginning of their partnership and eventually to the place in their relationship where the rom-com bits can happen, but I don't exactly need new longfics and it would need an A-plot, anyway. XD

---

Jean kneels down on the floor, Barbara's notes in one hand, chalk in the other, to begin drawing her summoning circle.

It's not the complex, elaborate sort of thing she's seen described in her novels or diagrammed in old text, double-walled, the space between those walls layered over and over again with bindings. Barbara has simplified it down to something much slimmer, simpler, simply the summoning itself and the bindings required to let it gain a foothold in this world and create an anchor. Let *him* gain a foothold, because Jean is summoning a very specific spirit.

She's grateful she'd been able to beg Diluc for his father's books, and more grateful still that he'd presumed she'd wanted them for Barbara. Who has indeed put them to good use in her long, slow project of unwinding the most vicious bindings from Rosaria's soul. But she's also put them to good use for this, too. Kaeya was as much Jean's friend as Diluc's. Diluc had said that never wanted to be here. But Rosaria has told them how grim and deadly the Abyss can be, and clings to life here despite the painful bindings that Barbara is only slowly freeing her from. Jean wants to at least give him that choice.

It's unfair of her to be angry when Diluc was only trying to set him free. Maybe she wouldn't be if Diluc was still here. But it was cruel of him to rip both of her friends away, without giving her a chance to say goodbye to either.

All of her furniture is cleared away to the walls, her rugs pulled up from the floor, but Jean still has a tightly confined space in which to draw her circle. She does so carefully, pausing to correct every error, making sure each stroke is perfect to the final drawing in Barbara's notes. Her sister has spent two years now on her project of bringing Rosaria somewhere closer to free, peeling away the bindings etched into her anchor without destroying the anchor itself. She knows so much that Jean couldn't begin to understand. Jean can't risk ruining this because she wasn't careful enough in copying Barbara's painstaking work.

Finally, though, it's finished. Jean stands, stepping carefully out of the circle so as not to smudge the chalk, and stands in the gap between her bed and her vanity while she shuffles through Barbara's notes for the next part. She can't get this wrong, either. She's been waiting weeks for her mother to stay later at the Ordo than she does. There's no concealing this once she's home. The summoning has to be finished, and Kaeya, if he chooses to stay, presented as a fait accompli. If she fails and exposes her plans too early, Jean knows she won't be allowed to try again.

Jean understands why. She's always understood why. Her mother has explained, first in response to her questions when she was young and reading history, later when Diluc's right eye had gone star-pupiled and blue, just how dangerous Abyssal spirits are, and why the Gunnhildrs no longer summon them. Merely to allow them into the world is dangerous, unsettling the natural balance of the elements; if their bindings ever slip, they become an even greater threat. No Aybssal spirit, her mother said, is *safe*.

Her mother has never liked that she and Diluc used Kaeya's name, or that Diluc allowed her to talk to him. She's never been willing to get to know Kaeya as a person. She wouldn't possibly believe that he isn't a threat to Mondstadt.

Taking a deep breath, Jean begins to recite the words Barbara has written out for her. "Oh spirit of the Abyss, Kaeya, Pavo Ocellus, heed my call...."

All Abyssal spirits have constellations, just as humans do. They can be summoned without them, but such a summoning simply draws in whichever is nearest, and weak enough to be drawn. Barbara says that Master Crepus' notes suggest that's what he'd done to get Kaeya in the first place. Once he had him, then he could learn that constellation, the core of his nature, which allows additional bindings to be placed and a direct summoning to be done. 'Kaeya' isn't the important part here; it's 'Pavo Ocellus' that matters.

But he's still 'Kaeya' to her, and always has been. It seems wrong to try and call for him without using his name.

She continues on, the ritual formula of the summoning, her voice rising and falling according to the musical notation that Barbara had added to it--much more accessible than the specialized and obscure notation used in most of the books. As she chants, shadows seem to gather at the center of the circle. Dim and flickering at first, but rising higher, spreading out in tendrils that seem almost to have eyes at the ends. Nothing more than the merest suggestion of a four-pointed star within a circle, but she feels intensely watched nonetheless. They fan out exactly like a peacock's tail. 'Pavo Ocellus' indeed.

The last lines fall from her lips, and then he's there, that gathering of shadow, watching her through those suggestions of eyes. The room is freezing cold.

"Kaeya," she says again, more softly, holding out her hand in supplication. "Diluc told me what you've suffered. You were bound more terribly than we understood, and more than we may still understand. I don't know if your bindings were like Rosaria's and painful of their own right, or if it was only the lack of freedom that pained you, but I should have realized long ago what a wrong that was on its own. You deserved that privilege of Mondstadt just as much as Diluc and I do. If you would like to return, if the Abyss is as unpleasant as Rosaria says, then I offer you that. I will put no bindings on you but those that tie you to me, that you may have a physical home among us, and I will force nothing upon you against your own will. If you wish to stay. If you do not, then I... I am glad I had the chance to say goodbye."

Her voice cracks, there, and Jean swallows. Then she steps forward, careful of the chalk on the floor, one foot into the circle, hand still held out.

As she does the peacock's tail flares suddenly up into something huge and hulking, bowing low like it's going to consume her. Like an Abyssal spirit *can*, when she's deliberately made herself vulnerable, with no protection but the circle and that border voluntarily crossed. That great mass of shadow gathers itself and dives down towards her. For a moment Jean's breath catches as all of her mother's warnings rise to the front of her mind.

Then it constricts together into a small, dark point just above her palm, and flashes, and a familiar earring, blue diamond-shaped stone set into what looks like white gold, falls into her hand. Jean breathes out.

:Hahaha, don't tell me you were nervous.:

She's heard Kaeya's voice before--or so she thought. It had always been from Diluc's mouth, though, in Diluc's register, though the tone and cadence had differed enough that Jean had always known which of them spoke. In her head, his voice is entirely different, breathy and soft, with a lilt to it that she can tell immediately was part of how Diluc's voice differed when he used it, but is weighted here in a way he'd never managed from Diluc's throat.

Jean lets go the breath she'd been holding, shakes off that disorientation, and smiles a little as she reaches up to pin the earring to her ear. "I shouldn't have doubted you."

As the earring clips in place, seeming to move with her fingers, almost on its own, to secure itself, she turns to look at herself in her vanity. She can see her right eye shimmer, for a moment going dark blue-black, studded with little points of light, before fading back into blue. Not *her* blue, though. This is a shade or two darker, further from violet, closer to grey. And of course, there's the diamond-shaped pupil in the center.

She blinks once, expecting some kind of sensation in that eye that she doesn't feel at all--no irritation, no strangeness, no sign at all that it suddenly belongs to another. Except that as her eyes open again, she can feel something like a weight settling into her mind, the bond taking root, and with it-

Her hand drops to her sword without her own will behind it. Kaeya draws it, and fear pulses cold in Jean's breast again, though all he does is flourish it and end with it held high. He looks it up and down, she can feel his eye moving, though hers is still fixed in horror and amazement on the mirror showing her--their--face.

"It should be interesting to work with a sword," he says, and she's not sure whether to be comforted by whether his voice shakes as he says it, as if he's not quite sure yet how to make the intonations he's familiar with come out right on her tongue. "I've always thought the sword was more stylish than the claymore."

Jean tries to sheathe the sword, to step back from the vanity, to speak herself. Her body refuses to obey her.

Kaeya chuckles aloud, this time, but his words are silent. :You shouldn't have doubted me, huh?:

She tries to form her thoughts into words in the same way, leaning on her urge to speak. Diluc had done it; surely she can, too. :Kaeya, what are you doing?:

:Oh, I'm just exercising that freedom you promised me. A privilege of Mondstadt, you called it?:

For all the amused confidence he's trying to project, there's something wavering in his answer, some hidden uncertainty in the way her heart has started to flutter too fast in her chest. That's not just her anxiety, she's sure of it. Does he even know what to do with her body, having taken full control of it? Diluc had never allowed him more than his voice. There had been the one time he'd fallen unconscious in battle, and Kaeya had risen in his body and walked him to the medics, but Jean remembers that stumbling progress and wonders now if it had been from injuries or from Kaeya's own inexperience.

"Jean!" Her mother's voice rings in the hall, thunderous. A chill runs down Jean's spine. Her mother and the Grand Master had been meeting with the Seneschal, and he knows what study Barbara has been making on Jean's behalf. Jean hadn't dared ask him not to tell her mother, for that was the surest way to make him go to her immediately. Better that he'd believed she'd had permission.

She'd only had this one attempt, and she had pulled it off successfully. Her mother's fury is manageable in the fact of that success.

:Let me talk to her,: she tells Kaeya. :She'll know what's happened, and it will only make her angrier if I don't. Whatever punishment she may have for this, there's no reason for you to bear it.:

Kaeya doesn't answer. He simply turns, her blade still upheld. As the door slams open, he drags one foot through the edge of the chalk circle and takes up a combat stance. Jean can feel the alien smirk twisting her face.

"*You*," Jean's mother breathes, her own face twisting in anger as she stands in the doorway and looks Jean in the eyes. "Crepus' little monster. Get out of my daughter's body!"

He laughs aloud. It's so clearly *his* laughter, eerie coming from her throat.

"Why should I, after she was so foolish as to let me in?"

:Kaeya, don't antagonize her. She's already angry enough.:

:So I see,: he says, laughing inside her mind, too. :But if she intends to punish us, why make it easier on her?:

"Because if you don't, I'll evict you by force," Jean's mother says. She reaches down to draw her own sword.

"There's only one way for you to do that without a spirit of your own, and you know it." Kaeya raises Jean's eyebrow, which is a skin-crawling sensation, even worse than the smirk. "How about this? I keep her body, which she handed over willingly in the first place, and you let me walk away knowing she's still alive."

Jean's heart is pounding in her chest, the uncertain flutter turning to a fearful hammering against her ribs. She knows what her mother's answer will be. It's the only answer that a Gunnhildr could possibly give.

"She didn't know what she was offering. She's let her sister's idealism and Diluc's idiocy blind her to what you really are. But *I* know better. And I will not let her unleash you upon Mondstadt."

:Kaeya, stop. She will attack if she thinks that's the only way. You have to let me talk to her!:

He doesn't answer. Jean can feel the fear spreading through her, chill and cold. Kaeya has always been her friend; surely he wouldn't do this to her. He was playing a game, teasing, because he always has liked teasing, but it's gone far enough. He knows that, doesn't he?

"Is that so? You'd rather kill your daughter to banish me than let me go to keep her alive?"

"I will do what I must," Jean's mother says, her voice wooden, her face going hard, her fury and anguish still showing only in her eyes, and lunges.

Kaeya *laughs*. Laughs and raises Jean's blade and leaps into the fray, ice starting to swirl around him as he and Jean's mother exchange blows.

At first Jean's mother is a little uncertain, cautious, holding back, watching Kaeya with a wary gaze as she parries and side-steps and uses the Gunnhildr wind magic to turn his blade aside. But as she catches on to the rhythm of his movements, the unfamiliar sword-style and the ice he wields alongside it, she grows more bold. Soon they're engaged in deadly earnest, swords clashing, wind and ice alike tearing Jean's bedroom apart.

:Stop!: she screams at Kaeya, over and over, seeming to go unheard. He never says anything in answer, silently or aloud, only laughs all the more in her voice, seeming caught up in the exhilaration of the fight. :Kaeya! I trusted you!:

He doesn't even waste the time to mock her for that. He simply fights on, magic and his unusual, unexpected style helping him counter Jean's mother's greater experience. The moment that experience starts to show, though, Jean feels a sudden wrench, and then there's wind on *both* sides of the fight. He's taken her own magic and turned it to the fray. The chill in Jean's breast grows deeper. He'd never been able to do that with Diluc. It's something the bindings had prevented. What has she *done*?

That's enough to turn the tide. Kaeya manages to put her mother off-balance, wind shrieking around her, ice flying at her, the two together throwing her back enough for Kaeya to finish the job with a quick slash of Jean's sword. Then her mother is on the ground in the doorway, looking up at them, blood running from her chest, pain blazing on her face, fighting for breath as Jean's stolen magic outstrips her own.

"You should have let me walk away," Kaeya says, chuckling, raising Jean's blade high for a final stroke.

:No!: Jean shrieks with all the fury she possesses, trying uselessly to batter herself against him like it will actually do anything. :You can't do this! I will never forgive you,: she adds, fiercely, because even if her protests are useless, he has to hear them. She will scream at him every moment he's in her body until both of them perish.

He falters, then, blade pausing in the downstroke. :But-:

The moment of hesitation is enough. Jean's mother slams out with both feet and her magic, knocking Jean's body onto her own back and surging upright in the same motion to stand over them. The tip of her sword settles at Jean's throat, pressing a little, just enough to break the skin. Jean looks up at her and feels the cold terror settle into an almost peaceful chill. Her mother was right after all. She just wishes she could say she's sorry.

"You win," Kaeya says, with her voice, and her face twists with his smirk again. "For what it's worth. Now all three of us know what kind of mother you are."

There's a feeling almost like an electric shock, a jolt all through her, and suddenly, Jean is in control. Her hand curls tighter, instinctively, around the hilt of her blade. Then she drops it, swallows hard, feeling the cold steel of her mother's blade cut deeper as her throat bobs, and finds her tongue enough to whisper, "Mother?"

"Jean." Her mother's eyes go wide. Carefully, slowly, she raises the blade and takes a step back. "Leave your sword on the floor, sit up, and take the earring off."

Jean leaves her sword lying there and sits up, starting to reach for the earring. Then she pauses, hand on the metal. Her heart is still pounding and her mouth is still dry, and she's shaking like a leaf. All of that could still be her own reaction. But the cold all around her, all through her--she's never had that particular reaction to fear. Some clamminess, but not this chill that seems to bore into her very bones, so deep it's part of her, something that wants to shrink defensively away-

She'd been cold all through the fight. No, thinking back, *before* the fight. When they'd first heard her mother's voice in the hall. While Jean had been trying and failing to take her body back.

:It wasn't that you weren't giving me back control, was it? You couldn't. You didn't know how.:

:Or,: Kaeya says, something brittle underlying his voice that resonates perfectly with that shivering chill, :I overestimated how well I'd recovered from my banishment.:

Which gives Jean a whole new sheaf of questions that she can't think about right now. :Would it help if we did add some bindings? Just enough to help-:

:If you're going to do *that*, why don't you simply banish me all over again?: There's a bitterness in his words so deep Jean can almost feel it choking her. :It wouldn't hurt any less.:

"No," Jean says aloud, dropping her hand from the earring. "I promised you freedom. The guiding principle of Mondstadt," she adds, raising her gaze to glare at her mother. "I refuse to betray that promise."

"You're falling into the same trap Diluc did," her mother says, fury rasping in her voice. "That's an Abyssal spirit. A *monster*. It nearly killed me. What will it do to the rest of Mondstadt?"

Jean rises, slowly, to her feet. She leaves her sword where it is; she can give her mother that much grace. But Kaeya's parting words, that sword at her throat, the slow drip of blood down her neck, all weigh upon her.

So does an older memory. Diluc, knocked to the ground, rising up in a burst of ice beyond anything he'd drawn from Kaeya thus far at the time of that fight. How he'd stumbled towards the medics through a ring of ice that threw back everything that came close, allies or enemies alike. Because Kaeya wasn't risking any kind of threat or impediment in his efforts to keep Diluc alive.

"He nearly killed you," she says in agreement, still meeting her mother's eyes. "But you threatened to kill me first."

Her mother goes white. Jean limps past her while she's still standing stunned in the doorway. She already regrets her words. She knows what her mother's intentions were, and where her convictions came from. Perhaps her mother is even right about what she's done. She'll find out, sooner or later. If she dies of this, though, at least she'll know she'd given Kaeya the benefit of the doubt.

[montammil]

Can't figure out Rex's part so I skipped ahead!

He had four cameras pulled up on his phone's app. The banister area, the basement, the kitchen, and the upstairs hallway. Watching the house, allowing his boys some space.

Lawrence watched through the phone screen. Ellington trapped Rex against the wall. Knees encasing Rex's. Rex didn't fight back surprisingly.

His boys now did this often, it unsettled him. It was too close for comfort. They'd been on one another's nerves for as long as he could remember for these weeks.

He managed to keep himself in bed. Allowing them the space to be kids. They did need to get a feel for the house without him around...

Movement on his cameras caught his eyes. Was a fight about to break out? Was Ellington about to tease Rex with an array of jokes like they're usual dynamic or was that gone?

He wished he knew, but neither boy was saying anything. Rex looked at Ellington. Who in turn, had him against the wall. He wasn't looking at him anymore.

Both glancing at their sibling. Marshall. Who was walking up the stairs with a pottery bowl he'd made years ago. It held all his crayons. Some broken, some not. A lot of them had no paper on them.

Nathan's doing no doubt.

Lawrence spared a glance at the sleeping boy in the basement. His temper had caused a rift between Ellington and Rex. Though he wasn't exactly sure what was said. Neither of them had told him.

Rex didn't speak much. Mainly gesturing and writing. Still too scared or confused. Lawrence liked to think confused. But he secretly figured it was the fear. Rex was well educated plus he never struggled with his words like Ellington or Nathan.

His vocabulary on paper was beyond Lawrence's even...maybe his throat was hurting him? He was always prone to tonsilitis.

Maybe he should talk to him about a tonsillectomy.

Pulled from his thoughts he noticed Marshall politely walked by murmuring and "excuse me." Lawrence could swear his heart swelled with affection.

His eyes warily memorized Ellington and Rex before exiting his app. All his boys were in a stable position, safe, and not fighting. Deciding he'd hear if they started fighting, he plugged his phone up. The screen making a silly pattern signifying it was now charging.

Laying back he smiled into his lover's empty spot. Allowing his mind to drift.

Charlotte was gone today for a photoshoot. A big one too. With some new trendy brand. Something about her favorite sports wear. She'd been sporting the bra and legging sets in all the patterns they offered for a while.

Soon enough, peace didn't last long. A door opened quietly but the creek of the sweaty palm against the knob wasn't. mistaken.

"Yes?" The blonde man looks down and to the right. Surprised by what he found. Rex. The brown-haired boy stared back.

"What is it baby? Do you need some medicine?" Lawrence coos softly laying his head on a pillow. Watching his second favorite. Who in return blushes looking away from him momentarily.

"I'll take that as a yes. Go get your medicine for me. I'll help you take it before naptime." He smiles gently before sitting up again.

Watching his boy shuffle to the bathroom, he decides to stretch. Moving his shoulders up and back.

Now settled on the bed in front of him, Rex loosely grips the throat spray. Undoing the cap, presenting it to him. Lawrence presses a kiss to the other male's hair.

"Open up." He instructs, watching Rex obey. "Good. We'll do two spritzes this time since your about to go to bed." He pats Rex's hand comfortingly as he sprays the first spray. Chuckling when Rex's face scrunches up.

"Second one then it's bedtime. You can lay here." He smiles to himself watching Rex's reaction to the second spray. 

I love their dynamics so much omg!! I also love Rex a lot XD

[vagueandominousvibes]

For the book asks: 8, 9, and 11?

I see you're all going for the 8 and the 11 today XD

I'm going to flip a coin for them: heads brings it up to the next unanswered higher number; tails brings it down to the next unanswered lower number. Sounds good? Good.

8 -> heads -> 10

11 -> heads -> 12

9. Where’s your favorite place to read?

Ok, so while we had the Christmas tree out, we had to rearrange the living room. The armchair furthest from the door got shuffled in next to the TV in the far corner, and the tree went in between the armchair and my fiancé's collection of model space ships.

That armchair was the absolute best. It was sheltered by the tree on one side, the TV and the wall on the other, and the dining table less than a meter in front of it. The lights from the tree gave me just enough light to read by. I had a perfect view of the windows and the door to the hallway. It was the furthest from the main entry, which meant if the doorbell rang, I'd be the least likely to go answer it. It was the PERFECT reading spot.

We unfortunately had to dismantle it when we took the tree down, because without the tree the layout felt wrong – but you can bet I kept the tree up until well into February.

10. Which character in a book do you think is most like you?

Apollo in The Trials of Apollo by Rick Riordan. Unfortunately. One of the reasons I love that pentalogy so much is because it made me feel so seen and acknowledged.

Yes, I had a really shitty attitude towards other people when I was younger. Yes, that was partly due to my up-bringing and immediate environment – but that wasn't an excuse. I've been lucky enough to meet a lot of wonderful people who have shown me that I can be and do better. I've unfortunately also hurt a lot of people, some who I used to call my friends. It's been so long that I highly doubt there's anything left to salvage there, but I do at times think about those people and wonder what kind of wonderful lives they're living now.

(I'm also doing bi-weekly therapy so, y'know, progress etc.)

12. What book do you plan to read next?

I've been asking myself the same question for about a month now!

I've got one of Ross Montgomery's most recent books out, and I've been playing with the idea of reading one of the two T. J. Klune books my sister got me for my birthday and Christmas.

I did start reading the introduction to an academic book on the cultural perceptions of sexual gratification* during Christmas, but stopped because I didn't have a pencil on me to make notes and highlight. Maybe I'll pick that one up next and actually finish it.

*I'm very aware of the irony of an asexual being interested in the cultural perceptions of sexual gratification. The only explanation I can think of is that it's like the curiosity of someone being blue-purple colour blind and trying to figure out what purple looks like.

[tiredassmage]

What happened after the mission that got Leo's unit killed that he embarrassed Vorza so much?

In my own thinking about what would warrant such a punishment, I very much got vibes like that of what happened when Weiss snapped at the Beacon fundraiser/charity gala in Atlas in Volume 4 of RWBY. But idk. That's just my thoughts.

Damn, I do miss this guy. Okay, this will also be beneficial for me to actually write down because I... haven't done that yet, lmao. And I'm starting to forget who I might've ever clarified it with.

Leo's falling out with his father after the deployment is... Well, I mean, yes, about how their relationship has really never been a positive one, and it boils down to a lot of the same that Leo has always butted heads with him on: Vorza's expectations of him and who he was to be were a lot different than what Leo wanted. Unfortunately I'm not familiar with RWBY to confirm or deny if that's it from experience, but I'll try to walk us through it and y'all can tell me. xD

What Vorza tells him to shape up about it is, in short, an "attitude" problem. It's that Leo doesn't let go of the fact that he disagreed with the orders that got his unit killed. It's that he loudly puts blame on the Sith that was leading them that day and that he gets in his commanding officer's face about getting a lot of men killed. Now, his CO might have brushed off some of it on his own physical and mental recovery from the fighting, but a Sith's a lot more unlikely to tolerate continued insubordination of that nature, and Leo wasn't in a state that was likely to get any quieter about it without a sharp intervention.

So, Vorza, somewhat begrudgingly, I imagine, intervened to get Leo's injuries actually treated - hence the cybernetics. But Vorza's concern isn't Leo's well-being, it's how his loud mouth will reflect on the family reputation if he doesn't cool jets, and quickly. The only reason Vorza doesn't want to see Leo court-martialed for his actions is the irreparable damage Vorza worries about for his own position and the status of the family. Leo's following deployment to Begeren, then, is... just as much punishment, you could say, as it is "get your act together or you better hope someone else cleans your chrono about it before I do." It's for appearances' sake, really. If Leo can complete another tour of duty without tarnishing his record further, Vorza can deal with his son's attitude afterward more quietly and out of public attention.

In short then, what happened after the mission is Leo reacted to the trauma of losing his entire unit, of being ordered into a situation his gut told him was too dangerous, and then being proven right. Part of what haunts him still about that experience is not speaking up sooner, of not making that fuss when they were still alive to rebuke orders. Maybe it would've been a death sentence either way with a temperamental, hotblooded young Sith at their lead, but if enough of them had agreed to speak up together, maybe... maybe things would be different. It's one of the things that feeds Leo's impression of himself as selfish, and far more motivated by self-preservation than an interest in larger, grand ideals.

But he'll never know now. Those men are dead. And while he still had enough heat in him left to snap at Vorza about his attitude problem for a moment, he... ultimately felt locked up again by the lack of real choice in the matter. Leo wasn't looking to get himself killed - not that day, and not afterwards in proceedings or on a Sith's blade, either. And it was what he "owed" for Vorza so kindly (sarcasm detected) stepping in to help with his physical treatments afterward. Vorza's position and the family's status are the only things that bought him the kind of recovery time and treatment methods he was afforded, rather than being lost more in the shuffle of reassignments and possibly not redeployed at all - or redeployed faster than might've been... healthy, if you will. What Vorza frames it as is a chance to keep some honor, but what it really is between him and Leo is a demand to not fuck something up even further, and a promise that the slight won't be forgotten regardless.