#the link takes you to ao3 btw lol

[myymi]

Sonic is twelve years old the first time Tails falls asleep on him. Over the months that the two of them have been traveling together Tails has fallen asleep next to him many times. Some nights he had darker dreams and would end up quietly shuffling his sleeping bag close to the hedgehog's, claiming that it was in the exact same spot it had always been in when Sonic would raise a brow at the proximity after waking up. Some days the sun would be just warm enough that the kid couldn't help but curl up in the soft grass after they stop for a quick water break, his tails wrapping around his small body as he snuck in a quick power nap.

But in all those instances never once had Tails actually slept on him. He kept close, but never dared to rest on top of the hedgehog for reasons the hero didn't quite understand then. They had stopped at the hotel in town for the first time in a while, having enough money to check into a one bed room on the ground floor. Tails thought that it was luck that it happened to be the same night there was supposed to be a storm, but Sonic had planned for that. He wouldn't usually buy a room just to get out of a storm, but the kid was tired and Sonic would rather not make him wait out a storm in an open cave where the sound of the booming thunder was amplified rather than muffled by protective walls. As Tails hopped onto the bed after they'd entered the room, Sonic made a beeline for the thick, dark blue curtains and tugged them closed. He's found that the darker the curtains the better they are at keeping the flash of lightning from assaulting their eyes. It keeps the room darker in the mornings as well, which the little kit seems to appreciate, even if he never voices at that. Sonic was rummaging through the backpack when he heard a squeaky yawn, followed by a quiet grunt as Tails fell back against the bed. He kicked his shoes off, not caring about where they landed before wiggling his way underneath the covers. The hedgehog couldn't help but smile as he shook his head, pulling out two of their water bottles to set inside the fridge so they could have something cold to drink in the morning. Leaving the backpack on the desk, he walked up to the bed and poked at the lump underneath the covers. Tails hummed before he peeked his head out, sleepy blue eyes halfway covered by his eyelids as he stared up at the hedgehog, waiting for him to tell him why he was bothering him. Sonic smiled as he made a 'c' with his paw, placing it at the top of his stomach before dragging it down. 'Hungry?' Tails bit his lip as he considered it. He would normally wave it off, but some hotels had free food. It was usually just breakfast, but if Sonic was popular enough in the zone then they'd receive free dinner too. As he thought on it, he vaguely remembered the front desk person did offer them dinner. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, "Free?"

Sonic frowned at the question, but he did nod. He repeated the sign for hungry, reminding the cub he was waiting on an answer. Tails nodded as he climbed off the bed, not bothering to put on his shoes as he followed Sonic out of their room. He covered his mouth as he let out another yawn, his other paw reaching out to grab hold of the hedgehog's to make sure he wouldn't fall behind. The hero responded by gently squeezing the smaller paw as he led them to the eating area. As the voices from other hotel guests steadily grew louder, Tails pressed closer the Sonic's side. When they finally entered the dining room, his tails twirled around each other before clinging against his leg. Sonic gently patted his head when he noticed, quickly bringing him to the small buffet. Tails was too small to be able to see all the options, so the hedgehog handed him a menu instead. When the kit pointed at something on the menu he wanted, Sonic left to quickly pile on a generous portion of it. Usually he'd feel bad about it, but he'd rather the kid get enough to eat. Besides, these places always ha extra food when the night was over. Tails was too small to be able to see all the options without flying, so the hedgehog handed him a menu instead. When the kit pointed at something on the menu he wanted, Sonic left to quickly pile on a generous portion of it. Usually he'd feel bad about it, but he'd rather the kid had enough to eat. Besides, these places always had extra food when the night was over. He gave himself a smaller portion of everything the fox picked out, knowing the kid would end up pushing his leftovers to Sonic. Tails didn't always pick out his own food. He used to refuse doing so altogether, saying that he was fine with whatever Sonic wanted to eat. The first time he'd gotten the kid to pick out their lunch Tails had beamed when he realized the older seemed to enjoy his choice of food. Since then, he always got the same thing as Tails whenever he got the cub to pick out something to eat. It seemed to help him voice what he wanted instead of just accepting anything he was given.

Sonic was going to eat at one of the tables, but the little fox was yawning a little too much for him to be able to stay awake long enough to walk back to their room after dinner so he decided on walking back now. But, with the tween's paws being full of their food, Tails was forced to hold onto one of his tails as they made the journey back to their room. Tails climbed back onto the bed so he could hold the food while Sonic turned on the T.V, flicking it onto a random cartoon channel before pushing away the covers so he could sit next to the kit on the bed. Tails frowned as he handed the older his plate of food. "I thought you didn't like cartoons?" He asked once he realized what channel the older chose, looking at the hedgehog expectantly as he took a bite of the chili on his plate. It wasn't nearly as good as Sonic's, but it wasn't bad. Sonic shrugged as he stabbed his fork into the small salad, leaving it there for a moment so he could sign his response before picking it back up to eat his bite. 'You like them.' "I know that." Tails said through his mouthful before quickly swallowing, "But you don't like them. We can watch something else, I don't mind." The hedgehog shrugged again and took another bite of his food without making any move to respond, causing the cub to pout. Too tired to really fight on the subject, Tails leaned against the headboard of the bed as he quietly ate the rest of his food. Sonic didn't really care about cartoons. They weren't his first pick by any means, but he didn't mind turning it on for little kids to watch. Which Tails is a little kid, despite how smart he is or how much he'd argue that he's "really not that much younger than Sonic" when he's still only four years old. The two of them ate comfortably with the T.V on a low volume but still loud enough to hopefully cover the sounds outside that the walls couldn't muffle. Sonic shifted his position a few times to try and block the window so Tails wouldn't see what little light pressed past the curtains. Tails squeaked out another yawn once he finished eating, handing his half-eaten plate over to the hedgehog. Sonic quickly scraped the rest of the food onto his, setting the now empty plate on the beside table so it'd be easy to grab when he leaves to put the plates back up after he finishes his own food. Apparently too tired to feel embarrassed right now, Tails wiggled under the covers until he was fully laying down before leaning over to rest his head against Sonic's hip instead of the pillow directly behind him. The hedgehog froze at the contact as his eyes snapped down to the kit, only to find that he was already out cold. Soft snores escaped him as his breathing evened out faster than Sonic has ever seen, the fox easily finding comfort in the physical contact. Too stiff to be anywhere near comfortable, Sonic gently laid his paw across Tails's torso, giving him a couple soft, awkward pats as he just watched the younger breathe for a few seconds. It took him a minute to settle against the headboard again, but it's faster than it usually takes him to get comfortable with someone touching him unprompted so he sees it as a win. And he only relaxed further after Tails started to quietly purr. They stay like that until Sonic finished his plate, stacking it on top of the other dirty dish before he laid down to join Tails in the dream world. He lifted the kit's head just enough to move around, gently setting it down on his chest when he's in a comfortable spot. He brought his paw up to scratch the cub's ear a few times before letting it settle around his back again, easily falling asleep at the soft sounds of comfort coming from Tails. The dishes will just have to wait until morning. ----

[lunarmoves]

who i see, looking back at me (ch2)

pairing: sebastian solace x reader

mentions: post-urbanshade fic, no use of y/n or pronouns, u are his partner <3, hallucinations, grief/mourning, non-sexual intimacy, touch aversion, hurt/comfort, ooc sebastian probably, again taking creative liberties with his mom and siblings, tentative reconnecting :)

a/n: so this fic is now 4 chapters instead of 2. what happened, u ask? i have no idea. i blame sebastian. also, i made some minor edits to ch1- nothing too major, i just changed sebastian's age from 32 to 33 LOL. i found out pressure takes place in 2025 when he's 32, so i nudged it up a lil. not that telling u guys this makes a difference dsjfhj. i used the urbanshade wiki for a lot of his info btw. anyways, hope u guys enjoy, bon apple teeth!

word count: 11k+

masterlist | part one

ao3 link

In the following days, a storm swept its way down the coast, confining you to your cottage when you weren’t at work. 

You sat at the window in your living room overlooking the sea, watching the way rain drummed against the glass. You could hear the way the wind battered the walls of your cottage, a low whistling echoing from a window you likely didn’t close properly. The sky was swollen with dark, heavy clouds that lit up with the occasional fork of white lightning. The rumbles of thunder that followed were loud enough for you to feel in your chest, and you enjoyed sipping at a warm drink as you read a book in the evenings before bed. 

After watching the way the waves crashed viciously against the sand and rocks of the shore—following the push and pull of the storm—you wondered if you should be worried about possible flooding. You’d think you’d be used to it after living by the sea for so long. But no, the water was not agitated enough to reach your little cottage at the top of the cove, so you did not think too much about it.

What you did have to worry about, however, were leaks. 

“Ah, shit,” you hissed as you toed a bucket under a steadily dripping wet spot on your ceiling. You’d never had to deal with them before, but then again, the winds of this storm were certainly strong. They could’ve knocked something loose. Your cottage was old enough that you wouldn’t be surprised. 

“Least there aren’t too many,” Sebastian remarked as he stood next to another bucket. He stared up at the point of leakage, a drop falling every few seconds. “Either deal with them every storm or bust out some tools to fix them, shouldn’t be too difficult, even for you.” 

You hummed out something of an agreement, ignoring the little jab at the end. You’d never been the one to do the tinkering or fixing around the house, preferring to observe him instead as he worked. You had to learn things yourself, over the years. It didn’t make it any less painful.

(“Put that engineering degree to work,” you told him as you always did each and every time, then grinned when he gave you that same squinted glare. 

“Mechanical engineering is not equal to fixing a pipe,” he grumbled back at you, pointing the wrench in his hand in your direction as you hovered by the bathroom doorway. He lifted his head just enough from the cupboard of the sink to meet your gaze in the mirror in front of him. “Neither is hanging a painting on the wall. Or swapping out lightbulbs, for that matter.”

You just smiled at him, not bothering to hide the way your gaze trailed along the muscles of his back and shoulders—forming shadows along the black tank top he wore. He made a face at you that had you biting your tongue to hold back a laugh.

“It is to me,” you replied in amusement. His groan only made your lips stretch wider. “Chop chop, nerd.”)

You sighed, a weary thing that you felt deep in your chest, and frowned out at your living room with its couple of buckets collecting water. Sebastian lifted his palm just under the leak he stood by. You watched him for a moment before turning away as another drop fell towards his hand. 

It felt like ages before you finally found yourself waking up to a sliver of bright, warm sunshine through your curtained window. You could finally pack away the buckets scattered around your home, lazily eyeing the spots on the ceiling where the water had dripped through. You’d need to borrow a ladder from someone so you could inspect the roof. You would deal with that later, you decided.  

You opened your front door to breathe in the fresh air of a storm long gone—the earthy smell accompanied by a salty seabreeze that promised better days. Clear skies with feathery wisps of clouds accompanied you all the way to work, where you and your coworker made plans to reschedule that dinner you both had meant to grab before the storm reared its ugly head and sent everything awry. 

And once you got back home after a long shift, you took some time to pick your way down the shore to walk alongside the lazy ebbing of the tide. 

The storm had washed up quite a few things. Bits of driftwood and seaweed, mostly. But occasionally a glimmer of something shiny would catch your eye, buried partially within the sand. You ended up wandering around for a bit, digging up seashells or small rocks that caught the light in just the right way when you held them up in front of your face. 

Eventually, as the sun danced along the horizon and sent its golden light to caress the planes of the earth, you ended up on the dock. Your pockets clicked and clacked with your findings as you walked down its length, the wood only mildly damp now from the days of endless rainfall. The boards creaked under each of your steps, and when you finally stopped at the dock’s edge, you paused for a moment to peer down at it. 

It—looked utterly ruined. Splintered pieces of wood that still held on through the storm poked out along the damaged planks. You frowned as you squinted at it. The edge was broken in a way that alluded to three separate points of destruction—the wood cracked and jagged like the maw of a hungry beast. Your lips pursed. Damage from the storm, no doubt. Maybe the vicious waves. Either way, it looked like you couldn’t sit here anymore until it was flagged and repaired. A shame, really. You glanced around at the rest of the undamaged dock. 

You supposed you could simply… sit elsewhere upon it. But… You grimaced to yourself as you swept your gaze across the calm waters. No prickle of your skin. No teal glow. No familiar rasp of a voice that made something in your chest ache. That did not mean it would not happen again, however. You were wary. Your own home you could not escape from him, but the dock you certainly could.

Maybe you should spend your evenings somewhere else for a bit. 

And that was how you found yourself down in the cove in the days that followed. It was not a place you frequented as often as the dock when you just wanted to lounge around—you needed to scale quite a few rocks to make it to the little beach within it—but it was just as gorgeous. Calm. Quiet. You could sit on the sand and watch the tide rise lazily to brush against your feet. 

Here, you felt protected—the cove curving in such a way where you were surrounded on almost all sides by rock apart from the section of the sea in front of you. Not many people ventured over here, preferring to stick by the wider—more open—stretch of the beach. You didn’t mind. All the more peace for you. 

You were feeling reminiscent, one particular evening, and decided to bring out that ukulele you’d purchased so long ago. It mostly sat in a corner of your room, collecting dust. But occasionally, you felt the urge to strum a couple of chords in some resemblance of a song—as clumsy and out-of-tune as they were. 

You sat cross-legged in the cove, far enough from the water’s edge that it could not reach you for a couple of feet. The sun had long started its descent, making the water sparkle like gems were littered under its surface. A few seagulls cawed overhead, close enough that you occasionally glanced upwards to watch them circle about in the air. 

Ukulele balanced partially on your lap, you squinted down at the card that came with it that had the finger positions for some chords drawn out. The card rested on the sand in front of your shin, and you frowned at it as you strummed out a rough-sounding G-chord. 

“That’s not right,” you muttered to yourself as you adjusted your fingers on the fretboard. You gave another strum. It sounded clearer—if marginally. “There we go.” 

Now to switch to an F-chord. You repositioned your fingers and strummed again. Not bad. Definitely better sounding than your G, that was for sure. The pads of your fingers were starting to ache with how hard you pressed down onto the strings. Your wrist too, for that matter.

After learning a few more chords, you started to idly strum away, searching for a tune. A lot of songs could be played just by using the C-, G-, and F-chords, you noted. Between your mindless down and up motions along the strings, you caught a faint glimpse of an old song you used to hear in your youth. And so, you chased after it, murmuring the words under your breath.

“No, that’s not…” You trailed off as you switched between a G and C, fingers moving slowly. Ah, the order did not sound right to your ears. Maybe an F should follow the G instead. You gave it a try and scrunched your nose when it sounded odd again. “Ah… man.”

A voice suddenly spoke up from somewhere in front of you—low and musing. “Ukulele, huh? When’d you pick it up?”

A brief glance upwards revealed exactly who you’d expected, even as something sank to the soles of your feet. Sebastian lounged stomach-down in the low shallows of the water, head propped up atop his hands as he watched you with half-lidded, squinted eyes. Close, yet not too close that he reached the point where the water’s edge kissed the beach. 

The distance, however, was not your main focus. 

Behind his upper body, you could see the stretch of a long, thick tail as it trailed towards the sea. Massive, in its entirety, and resembling a snake of sorts. Its posterior side glistened with gray-blue scales that caught the light in a nearly mesmerizing way. There were these black straps that criss-crossed along his tail all the way up to the base of large, whale-like flukes that were arched out of the water. Why the straps were there, you did not know.

He was much larger than you’d thought he was.

You averted your gaze and looked back down at your instrument. Truly, you did not know why he looked so different out here. You didn’t like the way it made you feel. Were you losing your grip on him—his memory? The last fragments of him that you had? No. No. 

You didn’t like that at all. 

“Helloooo?” Sebastian called, voice pitching upwards. “I asked you a question. Gonna just leave me hanging here?”

You huffed through your nose. He should know this. “Not too long ago,” you told him anyway, squinting slightly at him. 

His eyes crinkled into upturned crescents at your response—short as it was. “There, was that so hard now?” His voice dripped with condescension. One of his ear fins gave a little flick. “So, have you realized that it’s actually me, yet?” 

You didn’t answer, turning your attention back to your ukulele.

He sighed like he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. “That’s what I thought.” 

He was quiet as you spent some time strumming away. You were determined to figure out the right chords for this vague song, but you were severely lacking the knowledge of what they might be. You switched back to learning more finger positions from the chord card. Maybe it would fill in some gaps.

“Your thumb is too high on the neck,” Sebastian suddenly said after a while, earning him a quick glance from you. He pointed at your hand. “You’re gonna hurt your wrist like that, babe. It’s also restricting your movements. Lower it some more so that it’s not sticking above the fretboard.” He paused for a second, then added, “Also the strum zone is a little higher than that.” 

You mulled over his words for a bit, then adjusted your hold. Playing a few different chords, you realized that yes, it was easier to switch your finger positions now. Sounded much smoother as well. You hummed to yourself. 

“You really think if I wasn’t real that I’d be able to give you advice like that?” he asked pointedly, eyes falling into a half-lidded gaze. “Tell you shit you didn’t know about?” 

You pursed your lips. You… guessed so. But you had done some online research when you’d first bought the ukulele to learn more about it, being a novice and all. You were certain you’d read about correct positioning before—maybe you forgot but some level of your mind stored the information. You weren’t well versed in the workings of the human brain, particularly when it came to your… situation. You only offered Sebastian a shrug. He sighed deeply and grumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out. 

You went back to trying to figure out the song you’d distantly caught onto before. C-chord, followed by an E minor, G—wait no, an A minor actually—then an F. You were making some progress, as small as it was. 

The discordant notes from your ukulele mixed in with the steady swelling of the waves. Somewhere above, there was the caw of a seagull—sharp and piercing. Occasionally, there would be a small splash out in the distance, either from a fish jumping out of the water or a bird diving for a meal. You breathed in and—

Splat!

You made a surprised, strangled noise, something immensely cold and wet and slimy landing directly on your face. You couldn’t even really process what was happening before you felt it slide down and land on your lap. Your face scrunched up, disgusted, then you jumped slightly when laughter erupted from somewhere in front of you. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Sebastian wheezed, and your gaze shot towards him to see him practically curled up in a shaking ball. His tail slapped at the water, once, then twice when he rolled around to clutch at his stomach. “H-Holy shit that was funnier than I’d expected it to be oh my god your face! I think I’m gonna piss.” He lifted himself up just enough to look at you, then he burst out into cackles again. 

“Hwhuh?” you said, still stunned. He laughed even harder, and you took the time to look down at your lap at your assailant. You blinked at it and felt your lips pull back in some strange grimace. 

It was a wad of seaweed—fishy-smelling and gross and goddamnit it was soaking into your clothes and got all over your ukulele—

“Oh man, I missed doing that so much.” Sebastian wiped a tear from one of his teal eyes and grinned sharply at you. “Never change, babe. Never change.” 

You only made another sound, picking up the seaweed with one of your hands and flinging it off to the side. You could still feel the residue, well, everywhere. Coating your cheeks and your eyelids and your mouth. It was foul. You swiped your hand down your face in an attempt to get rid of it. You were not all too successful.

Sebastian chortled, then leaned back down with his head propped atop his palm, fixing you with a suddenly calculating stare. The tide swept up and around his body. “So? Would I have been able to do that if I wasn’t real, hm?” 

For a moment, you just watched him. His nonchalant pose. His gaze firmly trained on your own. The way his third arm did a little finger wave at you, a gold ring glinting on its fourth finger. You stared, and you stared. Then, you turned to look at the clump of seaweed. After a beat or two, you looked up at the inky sky—where those seagulls still circled overhead. Sebastian followed your gaze. 

He paused. 

“Wait. Don’t tell me”—he let out a laugh, incredulous, almost—“you think that was the birds?” 

A scoff escaped your lips. “What else would it be?” you grumbled, mostly to yourself. You needed a shower, and you needed it immediately. You stood up to dust the sand off your clothes with one hand, the other occupied with holding your poor ukulele.

“Babe,” he groaned, one of his hands raking down his face. His lips trembled, minute. “You’re gonna feel real stupid once you realize I’m actually here, you know.”

You only huffed and wiped at your face again, eye twitching ever so slightly.

And that was how the next few days went. 

He would show up whenever you were in the cove at night. Always making these remarks at you to get you to think that he wasn’t just some illusion you’d cooked up. Making you think that the splashes of water you felt on your legs or arms were from him and not the tide. When you moved back to the dock in an attempt to evade him, he followed you there too, and did the same thing again and again and again. 

And all the while, he looked as though he was battling something internally. What that was, you were uncertain. But it didn’t matter, did it? He was just an extension of your own thoughts, your own mind. 

Ignore, just ignore him like you always do, you told yourself repeatedly. He would eventually stop talking. He would eventually go away. But he never did. 

And one night you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Did you ever want to start a family?” he mused at you one evening in the cove, tail flicking idly behind him. You felt like you’d been doused in icy cold water as you stared down at the book in your lap. Eyes stuck on one word, but not truly seeing it. “We never really talked about it, did we?”

Your jaw tensed. No. No you didn’t.

“Ah, we were so young,” he continued in a quiet voice. “I’d say time has flown, but it didn’t. Not to me.” You did not need to look at him to know he was staring directly at you. The back of your neck prickled. “You’re what, thirty-four, now?” He chuckled. “You look just as I’d remembered.”

The way it was said—soft, tender, like an admission murmured in the darkness of night—added fuel to the way something wrenched itself fiercely in your gut. Paralyzed you on the ground. Your grip on your book tightened. Your gaze landed on your wedding ring, still bright and vivid even after all these years with the care you used to handle it.

It was quiet. 

“I’m sorry, you know?” A confession, whispered so gently you almost thought you didn’t hear it. “I’m sorry I was gone. Not that either of us could’ve done anything about it at this point. But I’m sorry I left you for so long, for what it’s worth. Maybe if I hadn’t been…” He trailed off, the implication of his words settling around your neck like a noose. “Well. I wonder sometimes about what could’ve been if all this shit didn’t happen.”

It was never ending, this pain. That you carried on a day-by-day basis, heavy like you wore chains around your ankles and wrists. Your heart. It would be easier to let yourself sink into the ocean, you think. Maybe it would be better than the endless hollowness you felt everywhere in your body. 

Sometimes it felt like time did not aid you in healing. You were unsure if it ever truly would.

“I thought about you every day,” he whispered, voice thick with emotions you could not bear to decipher. “Every. Single. Day.” 

Something deep inside you cracked like porcelain set too roughly atop a surface. You didn’t want to hear this, you didn’t want to hear this anymore.

“Stop— just stop,” you moaned out, wrenching your grip from your book so you could claw at your head. Your eyes squeezed shut. A dull ache throbbed beneath your fingers. “Leave me alone.”

“No,” he instead said firmly, low cadence to his tone. “I’m not gonna do that. Not now. You finally listening to me?” 

You shook your head and covered your face with your hands that shook like you were one step away from being unbalanced. This Sebastian was persistent and talkative in a way that your Sebastian in your cottage was not. 

And it hurt. More than anything in this world, it hurt. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you choked out, a fierce stinging making itself present behind your eyes. “I-I can’t. I can’t.” 

You thought about your cottage—that had seemed small, at first. But when you stood in the space of your living room and looked around at the vacant couch, listened to the eerie stillness that came with being alone, it was all too large just for you. 

Your heart ached.

“It’s not fair,” you sobbed, voice breaking on the tailend of your sentence. “It’s not fair. It hurts too much, I can’t— I can’t do this.” 

You were so, so tired. 

Of feeling this way. Of waking up to his face and falling asleep with it etched into your eyelids. Of going to work with him over your shoulder. Of finding no escape even in the one place you thought you would be at ease. It was exhausting. You were exhausted.

Sebastian was quiet as you sat there, attempting in vain to wipe away the wetness spilling across your cheeks. The chill of night was starting to set in. You could feel its cold hands snaking up your bare arms. You sniffed and scrubbed at your eyes. Distantly, there was a steady shifting sound. Sand being displaced. The drips and drops of water falling into a puddle.

There was a touch against your knee—featherlight and hesitant. 

You froze. And slowly, ever so slowly, you lowered your hands. 

A gray-blue hand—large enough to cover the entirety of your knee—brushed lightly against the thin material of your pants. The pads of its wet fingers traced a small circle around it, mindful of the sharp claws attached to its ends. You felt as though you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t tear your gaze away from what you were seeing until the hand drew slightly away. 

You looked up through wet lashes to see Sebastian—closer to the point where his shadow covered the entirety of your body. His head was bent towards you, angler’s lure falling into the space between your faces. The twilight that painted the sky in fragile light made his eyes glow softly, lowered as they were to take in your expression. Searching, maybe, though for what you were uncertain. 

You swallowed, your gaze darting down to his curled hand, then back up at his unreadable face. A static encompassed your mind, leaving no room for coherent thought. 

He seemed to be waiting for something. But when you only stared wide-eyed at him, he eventually sighed. 

“It won’t be enough, I know,” he murmured, tail shifting somewhere behind him in the sand. “It will take the both of us. Here.” 

He extended his arm before you—bending it in a way where his forearm oriented itself horizontally in front of you. He nodded down at it. “Go on.” It did not take a genius to figure out what he wanted you to do.

Could you do it? You didn’t know. You didn’t even know if you wanted to, for that matter. But one glance up at Sebastian’s face revealed an expectant sort of look to it. Nervous, you might say. Even grim. It did not make you feel any better. If anything, it made your muddled mix of emotions and thoughts even more messed up. 

Time… Did you go through enough time? 

You stared down at his arm—that looked so real, in this instance. Attached to a body that you could not even fathom in your dreams. You closed your eyes for a moment and could almost feel that phantom touch against your knee. The wetness that seeped into your pants from it. Reopening your eyes, you trailed your gaze from the clenched fist of his thick fingers, to the sharp jut of his clothed elbow. The space between you and it. A grim sort of feeling was beginning to take root in your stomach.

Always at a distance. Never crossing a line. 

You took a deep breath. 

And then you reached out your hand. 

Your fingers sank into the wet material of his jacket. You inhaled sharply through your nose and found you could not pull yourself away for the life of you.

“…What?” you murmured, lightly brushing over his arm. Over and over and over again. Soggy and stiff and so utterly there. You were trapped in a free fall, plummeting down to the earth. “What? No. No, no, no no no.” 

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears. 

“Didn’t I tell you?” he asked, an unsteady frown overtaking his lips. His voice lowered, barely above a whisper. “I’m right here.” 

“No,” was all you could choke out, fingers still feeling at his jacket. Slowly making their way to his elbow, then up his upper arm. Your lips trembled. “No. You—“ 

Your gaze shot up to his face and suddenly all you could see was him. Honeyed skin and blue eyes and rough scar across his nose. Looking at you so sadly, you almost felt your heart break all over again. An urge, so immense and paralyzing, swept its way throughout the entirety of your body and sank deeply into your very soul. It was all you could do to willingly follow it. You reached up towards his face, stomach twinging, and—

And he flinched away. 

“No!” Sebastian suddenly snapped, teeth bared in a sharp snarl. 

Your heart skipped a beat. Your entire body jerked back in surprise, your hands retreating towards your chest. He softened almost immediately. A pained grimace overtook his features, and he let out another long sigh. 

“I just… Not yet,” he mumbled, shifting away from you so he could wrap his arms around his torso. His gaze lowered to the sand. “Not yet.” 

Wide-eyed, you stared at him. You took him in—really took him in. Ear fins that flicked and twitched at the sides of his head. Gray-blue scales that were soaked in the dewy light of the rising moon. Massive tail supporting an equally massive torso. Three arms that tightened and gripped at the folds of his jacket.

This was him. This was really, really him.

And you could not comprehend it. 

“I-I—” you stammered, pushing yourself up to your feet. You felt unsteady. Your chest hurt. It was like you couldn’t even think properly with how your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. You clutched at your book as though it was your only lifeline. Maybe it was, at this moment. You took a shaky step back, sand crunching under your shoes. “I need… I need a moment.”

Just to yourself. Just to breathe and process. 

The waves ebbed back and forth beyond the cove—the only sound for a few terse minutes.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian told you gently, though he couldn’t quite meet your eyes. His lips pressed together as his head turned away to look out at the sea. “I can wait.” 

The next day passed by in a thick haze. 

You’d gone to bed feeling completely and utterly spent. Your dreams were filled with muddled images of teal eyes and sharp teeth, this accompanying sense of dread so deep that you woke up still feeling its stifling presence. It felt like you constantly had something pressing down onto your chest. You pulled yourself out of bed and stood in front of the mirror in your bathroom, frowning at your reflection as you rubbed idly at your sternum. 

Behind you, reflected in the glass, was your Sebastian. He didn’t say a word. Just stood there and smiled. You lowered your gaze down to your sink and felt your frown deepen. 

You went through work feeling oddly detached from your body, your mind swirling constantly with thoughts of the previous evening. If you stared down at your hand—the one you’d used to caress his arm—you could almost feel the sensation of his jacket against your fingertips. The coldness. The wetness. The realness. 

God, the realness. You had to cover your face with a hand so you could giggle hysterically into your palm. He was right. You felt stupid. But beyond that, it felt like you were still trapped in some kind of fog. Maybe you’d finally lost it after all this time. 

But no, no, this was real. This was happening. You’d felt it yourself. 

…Didn’t you want this? Didn’t you spend countless nights thinking about him? How much you missed him. How you would give anything for him to come back to you. The things you would do. The things you would say. It had all evaporated into thin air—was replaced with this hollow feeling that you could not decipher for the life of you. 

You’d wanted him back, right? 

Your Sebastian, with his— his… 

Something in your stomach writhed endlessly. 

“Hellooo? You still there?” a voice asked in your ear. 

You blinked back to awareness, your phone clutched in your hand. The breakroom of your workplace was empty apart from you sitting at its little table. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, sorry. Zoned out a bit. What were you saying?”

There was a small pause. Then, “Are you… okay?” Isidora asked hesitantly. You could practically hear the frown in her voice. “It’s just… You seem out of it.”

You rubbed a hand across your face. Truthfully, no, but you weren’t about to tell her that. “I’m fine. Work’s just been… work. You know how it is.” 

She made a small noise in understanding. “Oh boy, yeah I get it. Just last week I had a 10-hour shift. I swear, some of my coworkers are so incompetent.” She huffed, then her voice softened. “Well, if you’re sure you’re okay, I won’t press you about it. Just make sure you’re getting enough sleep, yeah?”

You blew a raspberry at her, your voice taking on a slightly teasing lilt. “What are you, my mom? I’ll be fine.” You paused for a moment, then added, “Speaking of, how’s Maria?” 

“She’s fine. Recently took up knitting actually,” Isidora told you. “I think she’s working on a blanket right now. She tried beanies first, but they didn’t turn out all too well.” She snickered.

“Never thought I’d see the day where she’d take up knitting,” you mused.

“I know right? She used to say she’d never get into any ‘old lady hobbies’ and now look at her!” 

“She’s not working full-time anymore, right? She’s probably bored.” 

“Oh for sure, especially with Lucas not home to cause trouble.”

“Yeah? When’s his spring break?” you asked, glancing over to the wall in the breakroom that had a small calendar hung up on it. It was nearing March.

“Not until next month. We still have some peace and quiet. A little too much, if you ask me.” She sighed, then her voice brightened. “Oh! Actually, Mama and I started going through some old albums the other day. Hang on, there were some pics I wanted to send you...” 

You hummed. “She did make a hobby out of album making a while ago, didn’t she?” You thought back to that album of family photos Sebastian kept in his desk—that you ultimately ended up returning. You frowned to yourself.

“Yeah, holy shit you should’ve seen the number of boxes we sorted through,” Isidora said, her voice slightly fainter like she’d removed her phone from her ear. There were a few tapping sounds. “It was nice seeing all our baby pictures. I almost forgot Lucas used to look so cute when he was a toddler.” 

You snorted, then removed your phone from your ear when it gave a little buzz of an incoming message. You clicked on the notification banner from Isidora. 

Instantly, you could feel the smile fade from your lips.

The first picture was of Sebastian—chubby-faced and missing one of his front teeth as he grinned up at the camera. He was kneeling on a wooden floor as he petted the back of a fluffy, brown cat. There was a bandaid across the bridge of his nose where you knew a rough scar would form, but it didn’t obscure the way his eyes crinkled in delight. 

(Teal eyes. Fingers like knives.)

The second picture was of you, Sebastian, and his siblings right before you went out Trick or Treating one year. You remembered this. Isidora spent so long trying to help Lucas with his Bumblebee costume—it came with so many different parts. You could barely see the peek of Lucas’ blue eyes past the yellow helmet. Isidora herself dressed up as the girl from The Ring, her long, black hair framing her face in shadows as she stared monotonously forward. 

Your gaze lingered on Sebastian, his teeth bared at the camera to show off the two fangs he bought for cheap at a store. Fake blood ran down his chin from the corners of his mouth. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, where you were posing like you were about to bite into his neck. Both of you had black makeup smudged around your eyes and long, flowing capes that you remembered had been a pain to deal with as they dragged along the ground outside. 

(Teal eyes. Fingers like knives. Body covered in scales.)

The last picture—

You felt your mouth turn dry like cotton had just been forced into your throat. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

The last picture was of you and him. Dancing in the middle of a small wedding hall. The photographer had caught you mid-laugh. What Sebastian had told you, you didn’t remember now. But you lingered on the way he smiled down at you, cheek dimpling slightly. The warmth of his gaze. The familiar crinkle of his eyes. The way your hands were intertwined tightly together, gold bands glinting on each of your fingers.  

(Teal eyes. Fingers like knives. Body covered in scales. Pungent smell of—)

All of them were taken in a way where it was clear they were pictures of the pictures already printed out in their designated albums. God, you had no idea Maria had kept some of these. You could feel a cold sort of feeling spreading throughout your body, numbing everything it came in touch with. 

There was a reason why you didn’t keep the pictures you’d had back at your apartment. 

And that reason was currently swimming around in the depths of the ocean instead of the bottom of a casket like you’d originally thought. 

“I thought you’d want to see them, it’s been so long since”—Isidora’s voice broke off and she cleared her throat—“well, y’know.”

You didn’t even know what to say. “I— yeah.” You blinked, once, then twice. Forcing back the stinging you felt at the corners of your eyes. “Thanks.” 

He’s alive, you wanted to tell her. He’s alive he’s alive he’s alive and he’s here and he’s so much different than you or I could have ever possibly imagined.

But… you couldn’t say all that. Not when everything was still so disconcerting for you. Not when you were still struggling to come to terms with it yourself. Not when you knew she would never believe you.

“We still have some more albums to go through. I’ll send you more pictures if I come across them!” Isidora said eagerly. “It’s just… nice to have them, y’know?”

“Yeah,” you forced out, even as it felt like someone had grabbed a fistful of your insides and ruthlessly twisted. “It… It really is.” 

That same evening you found yourself pacing relentlessly in your living room.

You could see Sebastian from the corner of your eye as he sat on your couch, his head moving side to side as he followed your movements. 

“You’re gonna wear a hole in the carpet at that rate,” he told you, idly tugging at the cartilage piercing on his upper ear. “Relax.” 

You ignored him. 

Glancing out the front window, you could see the sun’s last vestiges of light disappear under the horizon, making way for a cool, dark night. You couldn’t see a wink of moonlight anywhere. Either a cloud was blocking it or it was a new moon, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter though. Your insides felt like you’d swallowed a jar of jittering bees. 

You were procrastinating, you knew. But part of you reasoned it was better to go under the cover of an almost vantablack night, the stars your only light. Your gaze darted to Sebastian, one of his feet jiggling slightly from where it was crossed over his knee. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth and turned back to stare out at the black, rolling sea. 

Every time you closed your eyes you could see his face—inhuman and unfamiliar. 

Did you want him back like this? 

Something had happened to him. Something bad. The way he drew away from you was telling—the way he couldn’t quite look you in the eye. You wanted to ask him what happened, how he ended up like… like that. But you were scared of what his response would be. 

All this time, he had been alive, somewhere, and you were none the wiser. You were none the wiser. It was as heartbreaking as it was utterly devastating. 

You sighed and scrubbed your hands along your face. This wasn’t about you. This was about him—likely waiting for you by the shore. It was time to get a move on. 

You patted yourself down and did a final sweep of your living room to make sure you’d packed everything neatly away. Then, you slipped out the front door, the moon finally making its presence known as the clouds parted overhead. Slowly, you made your way to the cove, carefully picking down a few steep rocks until your shoes came into contact with sand. There was a slight chill to the air as you trudged over to your usual spot and stood there, staring out at the sea. 

You did not need to wait long. 

“You’re here later than normal,” a smooth voice called out pointedly once his head broke through the waves. He swam closer leisurely—the teal glow of his eyes bouncing off the water in front of him—then lounged on his stomach a short distance away. Eyes fell into a half-lidded look. “Was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show up.”

You shifted on your feet, looking away from him to stare at the ground. “No I… I was just waiting for it to get darker.”

Sebastian hummed like he didn’t quite believe you. “Right. Well?” He seemed to brace himself. “I’m sure you have… questions.” 

You did. You really, really did—brimming as they were on the tip of your tongue. But you swallowed them down, just for a moment. 

“I do,” you told him, “but…” You hesitated. 

He picked up on it right away, drawling out a “Buuut?” 

You fidgeted with your fingers, rotating your ring around. “Do you… want to come in? First?” 

There was a pregnant pause. You grimaced to yourself. 

“You mean…?” His head flicked up towards the top of the cove, where your cottage stood idly waiting. The lights were still on inside, making the windows glow a warm, welcoming orange. 

You nodded, then flapped your hands around nervously when his expression flattened out—unreadable. “Ah, I mean— I just thought it might be better? Than being out here, you know? But— But if you don’t wanna, we can stay outside, I don’t mi—“ 

He cut across your fumbling words. “Yeah, we can go. I just…” He trailed off, avoiding your gaze. “Didn’t expect you to offer, really.”

There was… honestly a lot to unpack there. But you could do that later. 

“Alright, c’mon.” You lingered in place for a moment, then turned on your heel to make your way back over to the edge of the cove. You glanced over your shoulder when there was the sound of rushing water—thousands of droplets trailing down Sebastian’s torso as he lifted himself up from the tide and slid his way towards you. 

It was… oddly captivating, watching him move. The anterior side of his body did not have scales like you’d assumed—there were scutes, instead, that helped him move easily across the sand. The thick muscles of his tail undulated side to side, displacing sand to leave a trail. You watched as the grains were pushed out of the way. The water that fell from his body and darkened the ground. 

Shaking your head slightly, you turned to the rocks to begin your steady ascent. 

The quiet of the climb was interrupted only by the occasional sound of waves forming and collapsing in the distance. You swept your gaze around the bit of the shore and dock you could see just in case there was anyone wandering about for a late night stroll. Luckily there wasn’t, but even if there was, you didn’t think they would be able to make out anything in the dark. 

If you strained your ears hard enough, you could hear the steady slithering of Sebastian’s body as he followed somewhere behind you. It made the hairs on your arms stand up straight, the piercing feeling of being watched weighing heavily on your form. You peeked at him from time to time, watching the way he slipped easily over rock and grass. His long, thick tail extended far behind him and blended into the navy-blue shadows.

You… didn’t have much to say. Neither did he, apparently. But that was okay.

You shuffled up the last bit of the climb and rolled your shoulders once your feet found flat earth. Grass tickled at the exposed parts of your ankles as you tread over to your cottage to wait by the door. You couldn’t rid yourself of the prickling along your body. 

He took his time to meet you there. You had a feeling that he could be much faster if he wanted. 

He came to a stop by your side, his eyes slightly squinted as his tail pushed himself up much higher over you. And the two of you stood there for a moment. You, looking up at him. Him, looking down at you. 

Neither of you said a word. Waiting for the other, you realized. 

You cleared your throat, eyeing his taller—wider—form, then the front door’s frame. You… believed he would fit. Probably. You set your hand on the doorknob. 

“Well,” you said in what you hoped was a casual manner, cracking the door open so that the inside light could spill forth across the shadowed ground. “Here’s home.” 

You stepped inside, your body cutting through the light to cast a long shadow behind you. Sebastian hummed, and you looked at him to see he was lingering just out of reach of the light. Your head tilted at him.

“Mind turning the lights off?” he asked, grimacing slightly once the words left his mouth. 

Oh. You paused and turned his request over in your head. You supposed you never did see him in broad daylight—it was always during the evening, when the sun had already turned in for the night. 

You nodded and shucked your shoes off to the side before walking over to the wall that had your living room light switch on it. You flipped it off, darkness immediately dousing everything within its vicinity. You blinked, waiting for your eyesight to adjust. Moonlight through your open-curtained windows allowed you to just barely make out Sebastian’s form as he slowly moved his head and torso through the doorway. His teal eyes pierced through the shadows to land on you.

He shifted a little. “Wanna see a cool trick?” 

“...Sure?” Confusion lined your voice. 

The shadow of one of his arms reached up to pull on something and before you knew it, a warm, golden glow washed gently along the walls and floor of your cottage. You squinted slightly at the angler’s lure that curved down from the top of his head, breathtakingly luminescent. Hypnotizing, almost. Your stomach churned.

“S’better on my eyes than regular bulbs,” he explained in your silence, shifting further into the living room. “Easier to handle than the artificial light or whatever. Though darkness is, mh, ideal.” 

Ah. “That makes sense.” You watched as his head turned this way and that while he took everything in. Your couch. Your sparse decorations. The small coffee table with books stacked atop it. The fluffy carpet on the floor. It made you feel awfully self-conscious. You rubbed your upper arm. 

Exhaling lightly, you stepped back towards the front door once the last bit of his tail slipped inside and closed it gently. And once you turned around, you spent a moment to just… take everything in. 

It felt like there wasn’t enough space to hold all of him, curled up as he was in your living room. His long, serpentine tail wrapped around your couch so that the wide flukes at its end rested heavily near your coffee table. And even then, he was still coiled in a way where his tail supported him up, his head nearly brushing the wood of your ceiling where he was tucked in a corner of the room. 

A little too large. A little too out of place.

How in the world were you supposed to deal with this? How in the world was any of this real? You were still having difficulty wrapping your head around it.

Sebastian hummed, two of his hands clasping at each other while the third reached out to run its fingers across one of the cushions on your couch. “Cozy.” His gaze landed on you. “How long have you been out here for?” 

You shrugged as you shuffled closer, stopping right by the curve of his tail. You stared vacantly down at it. “A while,” you told him. “After everything happened.” 

“Not a fan of the city anymore, hm?”

You slowly shook your head. “No. It was just… too much.” 

He nodded, a motion that made his lure bob slightly in place. The reach of it caused the room to be partially bathed in both light and shadow that shifted with even the smallest of movements. But you could still see the sopping wetness of his jacket. The way his waterlogged scarf hung heavily from around his neck, and his hair was plastered to the sides of his face. You frowned. 

“Do you want a change of clothes or something?” you asked him, the words leaving your mouth before you could really process them. Your gaze trailed along his tail. Even the straps attached to it were still wet. That couldn’t be comfortable for him. Right? “Maybe a towel?” 

He waved you off lazily with his third arm. You followed the gesture with your eyes, latched onto the bandages wrapped around his forearm. Those were wet as well. “Nah. I’m fine. Don’t you worry your sweet little head about me.” 

Your frown deepened. It felt like all you could do was worry, now. 

You fixed him with a stare. “Sebastian, you’re sopping wet. At least dry off. Or let me toss your clothes into the wash.” You pondered it for a moment. “Actually that might be better.” You’d only ever seen him in those clothes, after all—even if most of the time you’d thought he was well, not real. 

He only grinned mischievously down at you, mouth full of sharp teeth that made something in your stomach lurch. “Already trying to get me out of my clothes?” he purred, eyes lowering into low crescents. “You rascal. Take a guy out to dinner first.” 

You squinted at him. There was an air of forcefulness to his words that you were only just able to pick up on. Bravado. A facade. He was deflecting. And you were not about to be fooled by it. 

“You’re making my floor wet,” you said flatly. His smile twitched slightly at the corners. “I’ll go see what I have. Though I don’t think there’s anything that’ll fit you, really.” You eyed his upper torso. “I think I have a large blanket, that might work.”

“I really must decline,” he said cooly, but you were already gone—stepping around his tail to head over to your bedroom. He called out your name in exasperation. “Are you listening to me? I said I’m fine.” 

“Right, right,” you replied idly, opening your bedroom door so you could shuffle over to your closet in the dark. There were various linens stacked up on a shelf, and you pulled out a towel and a decently-sized blanket that you used occasionally when it was chillier. This would have to do. The thought saddened you. 

Bundling them up in your arms, you shut the door with your heel and turned to make your way back to the living room. 

Sebastian loomed in the doorway, the light from his lure gently lighting up the corners of your room. One of his hands braced against the top of the frame as he peered at you. “Awfully persistent, aren’t you?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Come now,” you said as you approached him. He moved out of the way so you could step through the frame and look up at him. “Surely you don’t want to keep those on?” You held up the towel. “Here.”

“I assure you, I am more than a little used to some wet clothes,” he drawled as he reached out to carefully take it from your grasp. In his hold, it looked much smaller. He clutched it in a fist.

“Well, you don’t have to be”—you jabbed a thumb over your shoulder in the general direction of where your washer and dryer were tucked away—“It wouldn’t take too lon—” 

He growled—a sound that made your hairs stand straight up on your nape. The room darkened fractionally. “I said no.” Eyes narrowing, he set you with a firm look. “You’ll quit asking if you know what’s good for you.” 

There was a moment where you just watched him. Observed him, your eyes flicking over his face. The hair partially shielding his eyes. The way his lips pressed together in a thin line. This was not a battle you would win. And that was okay. Baby steps. 

You took a deep breath. And then you exhaled it all out. 

“Okay, okay,” you relented softly, averting your gaze to walk over to your couch. You dumped the blanket over it, then sat down wearily. “You win, for now. I don’t suppose you happen to have anything else to wear?” It was futile to ask, but you had to anyway. 

“This was what I was given,” he said dryly, shifting on his tail so that he sat coiled upon it somewhere in front of you. He fidgeted with the towel. “You learn to make do.” 

And wasn’t that a sobering thought. 

You bit at your bottom lip, your fingers wringing together as you watched him use the towel to carefully dry his hair. You burned and burned with the number of questions that lingered bitterly on your tongue. You swallowed, and one of his ear fins twitched slightly.

Quietly, you asked, “What… happened?” 

He stilled, staring down at the towel gripped between his fingers. And after what felt like a long, long time, he sighed. 

“Better get comfortable,” he mumbled wearily and closed his eyes for a brief moment. “It’s a long story.” 

You were woefully unprepared for a single thing that left his mouth. 

A fake execution report. An experiment to give humans gills. Being trapped in an underwater facility for years. It all sounded like something straight out of fiction. You were beyond stupefied. In hindsight, thinking he was a hallucination wasn’t even the worst of it all, but it certainly didn’t make it easier to get rid of your own struggles with him actually being here right now. Part of you wondered if he was lying to you to avoid talking about something unfathomably worse—if such a thing even existed.

But he wasn’t. You saw it in the way his jaw tensed from time to time. The way he flexed his fingers and his tone changed into something much cooler. And even if what he was saying didn’t sound possible… it made sense. It made sense. 

You didn’t know what to do with all of it. Didn’t know how to react, really. There was this gnawing pit in your chest that worsened with every word that left his mouth. You… couldn’t even begin to imagine what he had gone through. And even then, there were things he certainly wasn’t telling you. Call it intuition but… you could sense it. He didn’t tell you everything. And you were not sure how to feel about that. Still… 

All this time… All this time. 

And you’d been none the wiser.

“So how did you… escape?” you asked as you rubbed your fingers into your temples to stave off a growing headache. 

Sebastian grinned, a sharp thing that showed the dark gums of his teeth. “They let their guard down.” The grin turned into more of a baring of teeth. “I stole a keycard, caused a sitewide lockdown. Liaised with one of Urbanshade’s competitors and they got me out in exchange for selling them data.” 

You blinked at him. There it was again, that feeling that he was purposely leaving out details. You didn’t call him out on it. “And then you came… here?” 

He made a noise, his shoulders shrugging. “Sure.”

“How did you even find—?” 

He cut you off with a snort. “The power of corporations, babe. It was easy for them to find your location. Made my life easier when it turned out you were living on the coast now, too.”

You weren’t even going to deliberate that too deeply. “They just let you come here?” you asked dubiously. 

“Mmmmyep.” He scratched slightly at the side of his face. “Don’t be mistaken, I’m still in contact with them. For ah, other business purposes.” 

“Other business purposes,” you repeated warily.

Sebastian gave you a close-mouthed smile, his eyes crinkling shut. “Don’t you worry about it.”

Right, this again. It felt like you’d just aged fifty years in one sitting. You sighed and leaned back into the couch, your arms crossing over your chest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you wrestled internally with all that you had learned. A weight had been placed upon your shoulders. But you knew it was nothing compared to the one he carried on his own. You frowned, pinching at the bridge of your nose. 

You felt sick. So, utterly, sick.

Sebastian was quiet now that he’d said his piece. He wrung the towel still in his hands together as he glanced around your cottage again. Eyes jumping from one thing to the other, though you had no idea what he was searching for specifically. Eventually, though, he spoke once more. 

“...You never remarried.” It was said more as a statement than a question, like he knew even before saying it. You supposed if he’d been watching you all this time, it would have become apparent that you lived by yourself. You watched him carefully. 

“No,” you replied simply. You showed him the ring still on your finger, the gold glinting up at him. “See?” 

His gaze flicked down to look at your hand. His head tilted slightly, the light on his lure brightening minutely.

“Aww,” he cooed, “I knew you were still madly in love with me.” 

You gave him a look—stricken as you were by his words. “Of course,” you said quietly, looking off to the side. “Always.” 

He seemed to sober up at your words. He cleared his throat and looked away. But you still continued to gaze at him, your eyes flicking down to his third arm where you could see that glint of a band around his fourth finger. You hesitated, then steeled yourself for what you were about to ask of him. 

“Sebastian,” you murmured. His ear fin flicked, but he didn’t meet your gaze. “Give me your hand.” Then, after a pause, you added, “Please.”

You think the request caught him off guard, just a little. He opened his mouth, but before a single word could escape, he glanced at your face and closed it abruptly. You wondered what he saw there. You waited as he seemed to mull your request over in his head. Then, he shifted closer to the couch—his larger body looming over your own and painting you in gentle, soothing light. 

You reached out a hand, patient. He eyed it, then slowly, so slowly, he extended one of his arms. 

You shook your head. “No, not that one.” You pointed to his third arm. “That one.”

He seemed taken aback. “You…” he trailed off, then shook his head with a sigh. “Alright.” 

He lifted his arm up and reached towards you. Leaning forward, you met him halfway. But before you could touch him, you flicked your gaze up to his face. He watched you. Quiet. Intent. Not a single breath being taken between the two of you.

Your hands grasped at his own. Real, real, real, real. It was… strange. Different. You couldn’t help the way your insides writhed and writhed and writhed. Inhuman. Unfamiliar. His hand, even one that was starkly smaller than his other two, was so much larger than yours, now. Thicker. Colder. Harder. It felt like he had a shell of some sort encasing his fingers. And the tips of them were sharp like the end of a blade—carefully curled away from you as they were. You held onto one of his fingers and pondered upon the distinctness. Lost yourself in the feeling. His finger twitched under your grip. 

(“Hey.” Sebastian nudged you with his foot, forcing you to tear your gaze away from your notes to raise an eyebrow at him. He was sitting on the other side of the couch, his back pressed against its arm. “Let me see your hand for a sec?”

“What for?” you asked warily, yet still extended your hand out to him. He gave you a small grin, then took your palm with a contemplative hum. 

His free hand went up to his chin in thought as he twisted your own this way and that. “Ah. Just as I thought.” 

“What?” you pressed him, not liking the glint in his blue eyes. 

“You’re missing something,” he told you. “Something so important that I fear you might die if you don’t get it soon. Shit’s fatal, you know.” 

You lowered your eyelids at him, not believing him for a second. “And that is?” 

Sebastian hummed, nodding slightly to himself, before he laced your fingers together. Your palms pressed against one another, the sensation of warm skin encompassing your own. “There. You’re cured. You're welcome, by the way.” 

You puffed out a laugh and tried to fruitlessly yank your hand away. His grip tightened. “Sebastian, how are we going to get any work done like this, huh?” 

“Not my problem. I can work just fine with one hand.” He wiggled the fingers of his free hand at you, the black polish on his nails slightly chipped at the tips. 

You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him. “Your hand’s all sweaty.” 

“Rude. My hands aren’t sweaty, yours are.” 

You gave him the stink eye. “No you.” 

He mirrored your expression back at you. “Alright, get over here you little—” With a swift yank, he tugged you over to him. Yelping, you felt yourself get dragged across the couch until you found yourself trapped within his arms. They tightened around your body, and for extra measure, you felt one of his legs hook around the back of your own. 

You gave a halfhearted wiggle, your cheek pressed against his chest. “This doesn’t help either of our productivities.” Your voice was muffled a bit. If you inhaled even just a little bit, you could smell his musk covered by the sweet scent of cinnamon. “You stink.”

He tightened his hold. You could feel his head lower to rest atop your own. “Think about what you’ve done and maybe I’ll let you go,” he murmured into your ear. You could practically hear the devious grin in his voice.

You only sighed in resignation and hid your smile in his shirt.)

You shook your head slightly, pushing down the ugly feelings crawling up your throat. Focus on the here and now. Peering closely at his fourth finger, you observed the gold band. 

“That’s—a big ring,” you said slowly, squinting at it. There was no way that was the same one you both had exchanged at your wedding. It was much bigger, for one. And simpler. “What happened to the one I gave you?” 

“Broke,” he replied with a forced casualness that you could smell from a mile away. His tail shifted behind him.

You raised an eyebrow. “Broke?” 

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Y’know, when the whole”—he gestured to his body loosely with a hand, making it seem like it wasn’t as big of a deal—“happened.” 

“I see.” You cocked your head, running your thumb over the large ring. Once, then twice, then thrice. “So you found a new one?”

He grumbled something low under his breath. You glanced up at him to find him pressing the towel into the lower part of his face, not quite able to look at you anymore. “Yeah,” he begrudgingly admitted. There was a warmth in your stomach, somewhere, fed by the rosiness that you could see on his cheeks. You willed the feeling to chase away all the others that simmered under your skin. 

You gave him a small, teasing smile. “Hmm. I knew you were still madly in love with me.” 

He sniffed and tugged his hand away from your grip—incensed now that you threw his own words back at him. You let him go willingly, your smile turning into a grin. Your hands tingled in the aftermath of holding his own. “Shuddup, weirdo.”

You chuckled and spent a quiet, peaceful moment just sitting together in your cottage. Listening to the vague ticking of the clock that rested somewhere on a wall. You breathed in, then out, willing your mind to cease its incessant buzzing.

“...What now?” you quietly asked, your question lingering in the finite space of your living room. 

Sebastian only watched you, his eyes a gentle glow. “I don’t know.”

You exhaled through your nose and glanced outside at the darkened sky. You could feel a specific kind of fatigue itching at your eyes. It was late, and the events of this evening had been so utterly exhausting. Still were, honestly. Rubbing a hand down your face, you stood up and stretched out your arms. 

“It’s getting late,” you said, rolling your shoulders. “I need to sleep, I have work in the morning.” 

He blinked, seeming to startle out of thought, and flicked his eyes over your face. His lips pursed. “Right, yeah,” he grumbled, shifting as he straightened up and turned towards your front door. “I’ll get outta your hair then—”

Instantly, your heart leapt up in your chest. You stopped him with a gentle touch on his arm. He jerked slightly before he turned to give you a questioning look. Pulling away, you held your hands in front of your sternum. “You’re leaving?” You did not want to admit to the vulnerability that coated your voice. 

“...Duh?” He hesitated. “Don’t you… want me to?” 

“Not at all,” you told him, stepping back to give him some space. “You can stay.” Then, timidly, you added, “For as long as you want.” You… thought it was a given that he could. 

Sebastian stared. He stared and he stared and he stared until finally he slouched forward and released a long, long breath. “...Thanks.” One of his hands scrubbed at his face. He looked so tired. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Make yourself comfortable.” You gestured at the living room, the blanket still piled upon your couch. “I’ll grab you a pillow, one sec.” You took a step back towards your room, then paused and turned back around. “Oh, I can take the towel too.” 

He didn’t seem much for conversation anymore. He only nodded and handed back the towel to you, damp as it was from mopping up the water from his body. You could feel his eyes on you as you scurried back into your bedroom to sling the towel into your laundry hamper and grab an extra pillow from your bed. 

“Here you are,” you said as you reentered the living room and tossed the pillow in his direction. You hoped it didn’t have any of your hair on it. He grabbed it out of the air with one hand, something contemplative to his gaze. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you’re hungry. I think I have leftovers.” You shifted, pointing your thumb behind you at your bedroom. Was this okay? “I’ll… just be in there if you need me.” 

And there it was again. That look on his face like he was battling something mentally. Like there was something just barely on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say. He held onto himself, hands gripping at the folds of his jacket. Gazing at you so— so….

You hesitated, wondering if this was the right thing to do. You both were not the same as you’d been all those years ago. It made the air thick with something that went unacknowledged.

You broke the silence with a gentle clear of your throat. Baby steps, you reminded yourself. “Well… good night.” “...Good night,” he whispered, still watching you with this look in his eyes as you stepped into your room and finally closed your bedroom door with a quiet click.

part three

[catinasink]

greetings from the sink

am i in post limit jail? nope :3

school is taking away my joy n whismy i fear!! (aka. posting a lot less recently)

most recent edit: 11/21/24

im the one and only cat btw. if you even care.

also im the ultimate faggot btw

main shit

minor. (my birthday is november 8 :3c )

i go by cat and nico and pluto and neptune and siffrin and calypso mainly and you can call me any of those

it/any/ask :3c please :3c

unlabeled-ish polyam aspec faggot <3

dont call me your friend + no /p tonetag (im aplatonic :] )

no chain asks + no tag games + no donation asks please.

uhh no real dni? just no porn blogs follow me pls im a minor 👍

if i fit your dni criteria just like. block me or softblock me or smn idk

more

i post silly stuff (i rb a lot lol . i og post in the flavors of gaypost, sillypost, ventpost (sadly often), lyricpost, fandompost, etc etc. i also spam rb often)

i have two cats, kim and shego (or floorshitter); a sister (she/her); and the irls (as in real life people i know; i tend to use irl as a term to describe the people i am close to irl) i mention most are pb / pissboy (he/him), cherry (they/any), eve (she/her), and fire (they/them)

pst timezone (usually)

scorpio sun saggitarius moon scorpio rising . ok yeah thats a fucking Lie the constellations have shifted but i cba to check again lol

i speak english + russian, learning german + hebrew

couple sideblogs, including @nymph-of-the-sea (rp blog for calypso from pjo) (no i never use it); @catinabath (for when im on post limit); two gimmick blogs; i definitely dont own @totallynotcatinasink; as well as @forehead-kiss-mutual-kill-polls :] a few others but ill keep those secret 💥

matching descs w @shrimpysstuff (shrimpy !!!) and banners w @evilhomoashell (starr !!!)

i have three very lovely qpps mwah mwah <3 also a very dear spouse <3 n a lovely boyfriend-adjacent-thing <3

i have an ao3 if that matters :]

discord server link :3 preferably join if youre around the age of a minor so everyone feels comfortable

literally just a cat in a sink btw

pretty sure i have an ed, might post about it sometimes :[

um. i htink blood is kinda hot. i will post about it (untagged. lmk if i should tag it via asks or dms or something)

fandoms im in / rb from

warrior cats. i love em

will wood. hes so silly . is this a fandom idk

genshin impact. grhghrhgr

pjo. whoag

isat. save me isat

object shows. i like object shows. namely ii, hfjone, objectified, n bfdi

danganronpa. uhmmm yeah haha dont look at me

tags

most of my og posts: #cat's rambles

asks: #cat's asks

schoolposting: #cat's schoolposting

ventposting: #neptune is complaining again

lyricposting: #cat's lyricposting

art: #cat's art

music i write: #cat's lyrics

polls i make: #cat's polls

pics of my cat: #cat's cat

yearning sighhhh: #nico catinasink is yearning

queued or scheduled posts: #queue you

posts i write in my notes app: #drafts

submissions: #eris' submissions

the penis saga: #the penis saga

pissboy mentions: #my lovely pissboy

lightning anon: #lightning anon

blender anon: #cat's blender anon

rizzler anon: #rizzler anon

brain anon: #🧠 anon

pineapple anon: #pineapple anon

sparkle anon: #sparkle anon

mcchicken anon: #mcchicken anon

sink lore: #happenings of the sink

dreamscape nexus: #dreamscape nexus

posts i want to look at later: #fave

posts of mine that are more popular than others or i want to find em later: #save

i tend to only tag the following tws: sui, sh, ed / eating issues, and emetophobia pls lmk if i should tag anything else !!!

i would prefer if the following were tagged: sui, sh, ed / eating issues, vomit / emetophobia, long posts, rb bait, gore :] also pls dont use "~" around me !!

have a good day

[kumquats-are-gay]

I require johnny fluff! (This is a stick up🔫) maybe with a reader who's sick/tired/injured etc

OH SHIT- ✋😨🤚

But YAYAYAY!! Tysm for giving me something! I wasn't super hopeful that I'd actually receive anything, but this and the other prompt I got have made me so happy :'] thank you thank you!!!

I planned on writing these as short little blurbs but ofc I went and got carried away. AGAIN. Go figure, lol. Anyway, I hope you like it! :D

(THIS WAS SUCH A CUTE IDEA BTW)

Johnny Cage x Reader (SFW)

Tags: no use of Y/N, gn!reader, sick!reader, sick fic, flirting, established relationship, directly pasted from Google Docs (forgive weird formatting), Johnny takes great care of you <3

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51606256

You had been out with Johnny on a date, enjoying each other’s company as the two of you walked hand-in-hand down the pavement. Everything was perfectly fine when you guys had first left: the crisp autumn air was refreshing, and little made you happier than getting to spend time with your partner. However, whatever it was you had come down with hadn’t taken long to make itself known. About half an hour into your outing, you began to feel a little clammy. At first, you had just chalked it up to the cool weather giving you the chills, but the vertigo that checked in shortly thereafter quickly changed your mind. Like hell you were going to say anything about it, though; you didn’t want Johnny to worry. So, you bit your lip and got a grip, hoping to bear through it…until you couldn’t anymore. Mumbling a weary, “I think…I’m going to pass out,” you immediately collapsed. Johnny’s reflexes were sharp, thankfully; he reached out and grabbed you before you could hit the ground.

Johnny carries you back to the car, drives home, then carries you inside the house. All the while he’s transporting you to bed, you have your face buried in his chest, weakly groaning.

He helps you remove your damp clothes before he slips a soft t-shirt over your head, which is followed by a pair of pajama bottoms being gently pulled up your legs. You’re barely able to stand, so he lays you down in the bed, literally tucking you in as he pushes the sheets in around your body. Apparently, you had made this process rather difficult; you kept feebly tugging at his arm and whining for him “not to go”. He had to continuously reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Nooo,” you had whined, “don’ leave the bed.”

He rolls his eyes affectionately and continues fussing over you, constantly touching your forehead and repositioning the blankets. You whine again as Johnny moves away, and he’s trying very hard not to give into your pleas; he needs to go get some things so that he can properly take care of you, damn it!

You just keep making those adorable little whimpering noises, though, seemingly having given up on words, and he can’t help but pivot his head to look at you. He sees you reaching out with pitiful grabby-hands, pouting adorably, and—oh, fuck it.

Johnny relents, already making his way back to you as he asks, “What about the things you’re gonna need? Water? Advil?”

You wrap your arms and legs around him like an octopus the moment he settles in next to you. “Don’eed that; jus’ need you,” you grumble against his neck. Johnny huffs in amusement, but underneath the surface, his heart is swelling with affection. When he feels you shiver against him, he knows he won’t get anywhere if he tries to get up to grab another blanket for you. Instead, he just holds you closer and pulls the duvet further up. He runs his hands through your sweaty hair, unbothered.

“Alright, honey, try to get some rest now, alright?” he says and kisses your forehead. You don’t need to be told twice; within minutes, you’re out like a light. A smile tugs at the corner of Johnny’s mouth while he gazes down at you. It truly didn’t matter whether you were all dressed up and confidently strutting about, or if you were sweating bullets through a baggy t-shirt and whining for him to hold you—Johnny always saw you as nothing short of amazing, and he’d take care of you for as long as you needed, any time you needed.

~~~

Barely a week had passed since you had first fallen ill. You had nearly made a full recovery by this point and you were feeling like a brand new person. It was in no small thanks to your boyfriend, Johnny, who tended to you every step of the way. Nothing was too big of an ask for him, though you tried not to be a bother if you could help it. He insisted that you weren’t, though, which made you feel a bit better about it.

The only times he left your side were when you really needed something. Otherwise, he was just as glued to you as you were to him, calling into work and everything to ensure that he could be there for you around the clock.

You sighed and smiled at his sleeping figure—his hair was sticking out this way and that, and the bedhead alone was enough to make you giggle. This slightly roused him from his sleep, causing him to mumble something incoherent as he pulled you against him. Your smile only grew; he was so goddamn cute. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” you whispered.

Johnny shakes his head and mumbles, “Nah, you’re good.” He pulls you even closer and releases a long, tired exhale. Unable to help yourself, you reach out to scratch at his scalp which elicits a pleased hum from your boyfriend. “Y’know, I think I might be getting sick,” he suddenly claims. You frown and immediately move the hand in his hair to his forehead, which causes him to grouse in disappointment. Your brow furrowed in confusion; he was slightly warmer than usual, but you wouldn’t call it a fever.

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him quizzically. He lazily grabs your hand and drags it back to his scalp. You take the hint and continue the task of brushing your fingers soothingly through his sandy locks.

Johnny practically purred at the sensation. The pleasurable feeling of your nails lightly dragging across his skull caused him to slur his words a bit. “Hmm, yeah,” he spoke through the haze, “real sick, but I heard a kiss c’n make you feel a lot better…”

Understanding his game now, you asked him in a tone dripping with suspicion, “Oh, really? That so?” Johnny just answered with an unconvincing ‘mmmmm-hm’ as he continued to revel in your touch. “Alright,” you acquiesced, and pressed your lips to his forehead. “Feel any better?”

“Hmm, I think I need another one for the effects to kick in,” he idly insisted. You could hear the smile in his voice, though, a clear indication that he was obviously bullshitting. You continued to entertain him anyway by giving him another kiss, this time on his cheek.

“How about now?” you pressed, though you already knew the answer.

“One more should do the trick,” he lilted, the cheeky bastard. You outright laughed this time before moving in for the final kiss. Johnny lifted his head at the last moment, surprising you a bit as he captured your mouth with his own this time. The two of you became entangled in an impromptu makeout session as you lost yourselves to each other. That is until Johnny suddenly pushed you away so he could cough into his elbow. He sounded like he was hacking up a lung. The heat that was beginning to gather in your body immediately fizzled out as worry swiftly took its place.

“Hey, are you alright?” you asked with genuine concern. He held up his index finger as if to say ‘one moment’ while he finished his coughing fit. At the end, he took a deep breath and pressed his palm to his forehead as his face twisted into a grimace.

“Ah, fuck…” Johnny sighed before he flopped back onto the mattress. “Okay, nevermind—I think I might actually be sick.”

You shook your head fondly. “Well, it’s a good thing you have me then, huh?”

Johnny smiles up at you in earnest and reaches for the hand that had long since stopped its ministrations, but he just holds it in his own this time. “I couldn’t be luckier.”

[anotherclassicpretence]

Okay so. Writing a new undeservedly boast-y synopsis of my Elder Scrolls novel and posting it when most of the website is asleep. Idk. Going to sound like I'm being paid to promote it lol

Ever wondered how the Great War actually went? Well, I've got one version for you! Complete with Elder Council politics, Mede dynasty succession tangles, multiple contemplations on the nature of magic, a subtle look at Cyrodiil's domination over its provinces, and a tinge of Oblivion's main storyline that ends in a completely different way reflecting the changed times and new characters introduced in this tale. Why is magic so different in Oblivion and Skyrim? How did the <REDACTED> adjust to taking on the mantle of <REDACTED>? What were those 'three assassination attempts' mentioned in the Thalmor dossier on Delphine? Head on over to AO3 through my pinned message for that and more! The best part? It's a massive work. Three books long. I'm talking the 300k+ words range. Does that mean it kinda starts slowly? Yes. Does it also feature, as a main character, thee most disliked NPC in Skyrim? You bet. But did I have an absolute blast exploring her and the many original characters I've made? Also a resounding yes. Btw, IT IS COMPLETELY WRITTEN. I'm only editing now, so the posting will be consistent and complete.

It is also almost entirely canon compliant. You might wonder how that is, if you're around Chapter 10, because there are some extremely influential characters being introduced that do not show up in canon though they definitely affect things. Keep reading!

If you've reached this point, thank you for bearing with me! The AO3 link is on my pinned message, and also below. I do cross post to tumblr sometimes, with #shadows of frostfall, but it's not as consistent as the AO3 chapters. I hope you check it out, and hope you enjoy!

The Shadows of Frostfall (10655 words) by anotherclassicpretence Chapters: 13/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Delphine (Elder Scrolls), Titus Mede II, Mariana Mede (OC), Morgen Halfhand (OC)

[pagemasters]

Fantasies He…

BABY’S FIRST FIC!!!

Author’s notes: So after reading so many for years I thought maybe it’s my turn to take a crack at it. There’s I think 3 parts to this, with the first one having basically no smut and mostly platonic fluff between Az and Feyre, but part 3? Can’t say the same thing for the middle Archeron sister lmao

I swear this started out to be one part but the story told me otherwise, part 2 is fully drafted I’m just revising and editing

I’m a very visual person, so enjoy the floor plan of the nursery and a rough sketch of what I think her mural would be and the star! I am a painter if it wasn’t obvious so the whole portion on starfall stars is actually based on how Bob Ross paints his northern lights, just with modifications BUT I haven’t tried it myself for this specific purpose. Also the colour of Feyre and Rhys’s stars are the colours of the first ones that hit them during Starfall btw! I love the platonic relationships between the inner circle and we don’t get enough of it

If you enjoyed it I would love u forever if you let me know!! :)

Ps. Omg dialogue is so difficult to make realistic but also in character, none of that “hey big brother” etc. shit you see in tv shows where you’re like who tf says that to their sibling ?? Ps.ps. I haven’t taken an English writing class for 5 years so if punctuation was wrong let’s pretend it wasn’t LMAO

I CANT FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO AO3 LINK BUT IT’S ON THERE WITH THE SAME USERNAME LOL SORRY

Summary:

Azriel spends the day with Feyre, only to get caught in the rain on the way home. Good thing the townhouse is empty. Or is it…

CHAPTER ONE: DAYDREAMING

The rain finally decided to make its appearance as Azriel stepped out of the River house. Taking a deep breath, he let the soothing scent wash over him as he relaxed his wings. 

The meeting with Rhys was short, just a weekly update on the goings around the other courts and allies, nothing that required the full inner circle to make an appearance. Something he knew after centuries of this work should be a good thing, but it doesn’t stop the pang in his chest at the missed opportunity of seeing her. 

Not that he didn’t try to catch a glimpse of her. He did take a walk through the beautiful home his brother had built for his mate after seeing him, the smell of cedar and masonry long since faded from the construction days; replaced with flowers and candles and the dinner his shadows whispered Nuala and Cerridwen were working on. The scent of paint lingered though, and he discovered the reason why as he got to the residential wing. His High Lady wasn’t in her studio, but he found her nonetheless with a brush in her tattooed hand. 

“I think you missed a spot.” Az said from the doorway, trying to repress his smile at her startled reaction. Even though Feyre and Rhys opted for doorways fashioned with wings in mind, he kept his drawn in tight, not wanting to risk smearing her paint as he stepped inside. 

“Rhys won’t let me use the step ladder without him holding it. And me. And the bump.” Feyre twisted to look up from her spot on the floor and smiled in greeting before lowering the brush to pat her stomach in emphasis. She gave her mate’s antics an affectionate eye roll and shake of her head before releasing a heavy sigh, glancing back at her work. 

“If I remember correctly,” Az teased, “you are prone to falling quite spectacularly.”

She let out an indignat squawk so loud he had to bite his lips to prevent laughing, her body spinning so fast to face him fully that paint ended up splattering from her brush to the white drop cloth. 

Their flying lessons had ceased for the most part since the war, so watching her fly into a tree or eat rocks wasn’t as common an occurrence— but that’s not to say that still doesn’t happen. Knowledge he happens to be privy to not just as her flight teacher, but as the spymaster, something she’s very aware of if the narrowing of her eyes and mouth hanging open are any indication. 

It’s hard not to notice the similarities between the sisters, when even with your eyes closed the cadence of their speech was also similar. But it was never so apparent between youngest and oldest Archeron as when Feyre’s eyes pinned him in place, the expression of mock outrage was so much like Nesta’s it was almost comical. 

“Ruuuude,” she said, drawing the word out in a whine with pouted lips, no doubt remembering the amount of face plants he’d witnessed when she first began to fly. “I see how you treat your High Lady, Shadowsinger. Just wait, it’s not too late for me to paint a little something in your bedroom.”

“And here I thought pouting and grumbling was beneath royalty, at least you can say you’re a tree hugger.”

She gave him a gesture that was certainly beneath royalty, and he didn’t hold back his chuckle this time. 

“What gave you that idea, have you even met Rhys?” 

“Oh trust me, you should’ve seen him when we were kids.” He said, grabbing her hands to help her stand. “He discovered in a book that while bat wings look identical to ours, the anatomy of their wing is labeled similar to that of the hand. So for them, their talons are their thumbs. After that, he took it upon himself to hang upside down in silent protest whenever he was mad, but didn’t want his mother to wash his mouth out with soap for swearing.”

“He did not.”

“Mhmm, until his faced turned purple.”

“And where were you and Cass for all this?” Feyre said through her giggling, a wide grin of unrestrained joy plastered on her face. 

“He couldn’t have done it alone, a thumbs down by yourself would look stupid.”

“Ah yes, because the three of you hanging upside down like overgrown bats isn’t ridiculous.” She cackled, “How long until he gave it up?”

“A few weeks. After Cassian passed out in the middle of camp and we all got broken capillaries on our faces. Still, a better alternative than the awful tasting soap in Illyria.” 

“What, as opposed to other tasting soap?” He just shrugged, smiling. 

Rhys’s mom’s reaction to warriors dragging them across the rocky ground home was as lively in his memory as she was when she berated them when her son fessed up. She was less thrilled to hear the real reason than Devlon was having passed out children strewn about the place, but she never did call them out on the lie they fed to Devlon about it being a dare when he came banging on their door. That night though when they were more lucid, she brought them on foot to one of the mountains surrounding their outpost and stood them at the opening of a cave. He still remembers the eyes he felt on them, the warning bells ringing from his shadows as she gestures her hands out and said, “If you want to act like bats, you can join them; or you can toughen up, learn how and when to pick battles and what hills are worth to dying on. Because there will be more people who will piss you off, but this is not an option when you’re leading armies. So,” her hazel eyes meeting each of theirs, “What will it be? Do you want to stay here or take the soap and fly right on home.” Needless to say they bolted home with the taste of pine tar suds coating their mouths like a film no amount of water could rid them of the taste. He could still feel the eyes of whatever was in that cave the entire way home, but thank the cauldron he could fly at that point. His heart ached at the memory of the female, the one he knew picked a low cave for him to make her point, just in case. The one his shadows caught a few times after that upside down on the couch after a rough day when she thought she was alone. 

As Feyre’s amusement continued with eyes glazed over—no doubt having a silent conversation with Rhys—Az cleared his throat, his shadows pulling back as he gestured to their surroundings and asked, “So how’s the nursery coming along?” 

“It’s going great,” she replied after a moment, her laughter subsiding as she surveyed the mural.  “I know it’s not geographically correct, and that Starfall and the time when our courts insignia’s stars show don’t overlap, but I couldn’t not include them. I want  him and any possible future child to see the night court as I did when I first fell in love with it and their dad.” 

Indeed, while he knew Rhys was already in love with her, he got to watch Feyre love him back as much as he deserved in real time the longer she was here. And the way she captured the land they all loved so much here was… breathtaking. 

On the wall that held the doorway he just stepped through lay the mountain with the moonstone palace atop it. The first place she saw here. They both knew where the doors to Hewn city rest below, but it was covered by the landscape. As if there were no room for nightmares in this room, even if it was a court this babe may one day rule. 

“I have no idea how you made that mountain so realistic,” he said to her in awe, pointing to the painting adjacent to the wall they just looked at. 

“The crib is going to go right below it when the rooms done. I want it to watch over him.” She replied almost reverently as she looked up. 

The mountain was the tallest of the three she painted, and it looked just as it had on his trek up there with his brothers during the rite. Physically it was practically stone for stone, those three stars lines up overhead perfectly, but the energy differed. Instead of the cold and foreboding thing he remembered on the way up, it seemed almost… euphoric? As if the wild joy and love Rhysand, Cassian and he felt as they made their way to the top and won seeped its way onto the painting. Like the unyielding strength from that mountain and what it brought out of them would guide and protect him, just like it did for the three winged dots surrounding the monolith at the tip. How that was even possible was beyond him. 

He could barely tear his gaze away, but snickered as he saw the tiny but recognizable building at the base of it to the right. “The cabin, huh?”

“Of course, gotta prep him for one day kicking all of your asses during your snowball fight.” She added, blushing. “I put few snowballs flying just for good luck.”

Though he knew the other reason the cabin was significant to Feyre and Rhys, the thought of his future nephew joining their game warmed him. But It did make trying not to focus on other non-winged and winged babies that could one day join in the snowball fight impossible. Children have always been an abstract idea, a figment he knew existed but besides Rhys’s sister, he wasn’t around. And after what happened to her… He thought for a long time he would never have one of his own, but that sentiment start to change in recent years. He could avoid it most days though, but being surrounded by the baby stuff made the hypothetical harder to ignore. The thoughts on if he’d have his own little ones propped on his hip and curled into his chest with their chubby cheeks and inquisitive eyes. If they would have his hazel or her golden brown ones, or something different if they adopted. Would their little hands or clothes or hair get caught in the scales of his armour just like hers did when he took her on her first flight to the town house from the House of Wind, when he held her for the first time. Would Elain… Az paused, stopping that train of thought before it just twisted the knife even further, seeing more things he can’t have. 

His shadows began to circle him, and if Feyre noticed she politely didn’t comment on it before pointing out what she was working on when he interrupted her. 

To the right of the cabin and right were she was sat Velaris, and it really did look like a city of starlight with how she painted the glowing nightscape. He could make out the four markets that were the heart of the city, with extra emphasis on where the town house sat along with the new residence they were currently in. Bisecting through it all, the Sidra River looked so realistic he could probably skip a rock across its surface. It flowed like a living thing, reflecting the lights from the buildings on its edge and even the stars above. Two of which weren’t normal stars. 

Above the city proper and even the flat topped mountain that held the House of Wind was the beginnings of starfall. 

“How-“Azriel could barely get out, “how is this even possible?”

“Perks of now being immortal; plenty of time to practice. And having a husband with wings who takes you to get aerial views.” She simply said gesturing to their city, as if she didn’t create magic with swipes of colours. 

“The green one is mine, and the light blue one is Rhys’s. I’m planning to get everyone to add their own star to the wall.” Now looking him, she smirked. “Which means you came at a perfect time, Shadowsinger. Your turn.”

He gave her an unbelieving expression, shadows instantly vanishing. “You can’t be serious.”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, “if I trust Cassian with a paintbrush, you’ll be fine. He’s coming by in a few days when he gets a free moment, Nesta and her two friends are keeping him busy with training.” Nesta is keeping him busy with more than just that, it’s a wonder he even has energy to train them. 

But looking at Rhysand’s mate, Azriel saw her glow in a way different from her powers. Feyre radiated joy as her hand cradled her stomach despite barely showing, not caring about paint getting on her already splattered clothes. For his brother, for the friend beside him and his nephew in her womb, he removed his jacket and let out a resounding sigh in defeat. “What do you need me to do?” 

So Feyre excitedly brought him over to her pile of paint tubes on the drop cloth. She grabbed the white and as he selected the colour phthalo blue she went off to prep the clean, dry brushes and a fresh palette for him. 

“So pick the area of the sky you want your star to be, I’d like to keep the inner circle’s additions mostly above Velaris, but I’ll add tiny ones fading out once everyone is done. Amren and Mor are away, Cass is busy and who knows if or when Nesta would want to contribute. That means besides Rhys and I, you have the pick of the litter.”

“What about Elain?” He asked, trying to keep his voice and face as neutral as possible when she handed him a 3 inch brush already dipped in his blue. 

“I’ll drag her in here after dinner when she gets in from the garden. The colour of the sky is already dry which is the important part, so there’s no time constraint on when everyone adds theirs besides my due date.” She gave him a knowing smile which he dutifully ignored, along with the disappointment in his chest as she confirmed Elain wasn’t in. “Now I want you to cover a large area of where you generally want the shape of the star to go, it doesn’t have to be perfect but cover much more than you think you’d need to.”

He hesitates, “won’t this cover up your sky? It’s a dark colour.”

“Just trust me.”

He followed her instructions, cringing as his brush made contact with her beautiful wall and went over the faint background stars she had already done, but relaxed when he saw they were still partially visible. 

Az looked back at her, seeing his shadows lazily inspecting them, as if they wanted a part in the activity their master is occupied with. Feyre playfully eyed the curious one that grazed her hand as she took his current brush from his scarred hand to switch it. “Now with this fan brush, I want you to coat it in the white paint. And as you do so, get a feel for how the bristles bend and move.”

Doing as High Lady said, he got her guidance once he brought the loaded brush to the wall, being sure to dab, not swipe the white in a near full coverage circle followed by a line over the shade of blue he had no idea how to pronounce. 

“So this is where the magic begins,” she stated when he finished and passed a third brush over, a flat paddle one identical to the first and this time a cloth. “You see that perfectly clean teardrop you made? You’re gonna ruin it.”

At the alarmed look he gave her, she just cackled. “I knew you’d make that face, Rhys did the exact same. I want you to very lightly swipe the brush starting at the largest end of the teardrop and out towards the tail of the star. That’s the only motion you’ll be doing. And after each swipe you can gently wipe off the brush before starting again. You can also practice the strokes around the mountain until you feel ready like Rhys did, the sky there is also dry.”

With a deep breath, he took a step away and tried it until he felt like he got the technique she wanted down. This was for his family, he reminded himself, he will not let his nephew down. And despite getting her nod of approval, he still felt like he was going in blind as he did what she said and his jaw dropped. 

Well shit. Now he understood why she wanted him to put down the colour he chose first. 

“The blue is actually transparent; so while it looks dark in the tube, it blends out much lighter. Especially with white under or overtop. You’re doing wet-on-wet blending.” What was once just a bright blob over blue so dark you couldn’t see it on her perfect walls, he could now see how the white faded. How the light and the dark mixed until they became one. So Az wiped the excess off his brush, and continued on and on until it looked similar enough to what she and Rhys created. They fell into a rhythm, Feyre handing him back the fan brush to brighten or a new one with bristles so impossibly soft as they worked as a team. She barely had to tell him what to do now, so with next to no pressure he feathered it out vertical rather than the almost horizontal strokes from before, until only a streak of blue light remained. They could’ve been at this for minutes or hours, he had no idea. He didn’t even question her instruction to use a densely bristled tool he could’ve sworn was a toothbrush to flick on watered down white paint for the star trail. 

“This is incredible, Feyre.” He stated, stepping back at last.

“That wasn’t me, that was all you my friend.” She grinned at him. “Once everyone’s is dry, I’m adding a sheer shimmery paint to make them pop, but even without it you did a beautiful job.”

He felt heat rise to his face, and inclined his head in thanks without removing his eyes from the wall. 

“You certainly have an eye for this, Az. Care to quit and become a painter? I could use an assistant.”

A chill went through him, and he started to turn in her direction before the window caught his attention. Dusk must have fallen along with the rain who knows how long ago. About to rub his temples, Feyre squeaked out a warning before he remembered the task at hand and looked down at himself. The plain black long sleeve shirt covered in splatters didn’t matter, he goes through them like water for work but the paint coating his skin made his stomach drop the same way her jest did. Much different than the red he was used to seeing there, all the blood he still couldn’t wash away.

He can paint a picture with his knife, but nothing like Feyre’s ability of creation. Each slash he makes as delicate and precise a dance as any Nesta favours, but instead it’s to a symphony of screams. And unlike Elain… the only soil he sees is grave dirt. If the bodies make it that far. 

His work is never meant to been seen by others, it’s means to and end, a way to protect his family and his court. Unlike their work, where it would be a crime to hide it from the world.

“Tempting offer, Cursebreaker,” Az murmured, swapping the dirty cloth for a damp one his shadows brought him. Paying close attention to his siphons and not his scars, he still didn’t feel clean enough no matter how hard he wiped the paint from his skin. “Sadly, I don’t think your mate would be too thrilled to have to hire someone else to feed the creatures in Hewn City.”

She snorted, making a lighthearted comment about at least no one had to feed Byraxis, for now… The forced tease in her voice didn’t fool him as she realized she must’ve hit a nerve, but he appreciated her effort anyway.

“I do have to head out, but I’ll pop by soon to see the progress when I drop off paperwork.” He told her, his lips pressed to the top of her head and shockingly made contact with her hair in a brief farewell. Rhys must’ve lessened the shield knowing Az was with her, but not by much considering both her and the babe’s scent was still concealed. 

Feyre did invited him to stay for dinner which he politely declined. It wouldn’t be served for an hour, but he needed space and to fly to clear his head—still feeling like if he looked down he’d be dripping blood that didn’t belong to him as he made his was out. He did try not to rush out as he walk through the maze of supplies strewn about the covered floor, keeping his wings high even as his shadows tugged at him, but he had a feeling she knew his reason for leaving. Well, at least the other reason. 

Lightning cracks through the sky, snapping Azriel out of his memories. Damn, He must be more tired than he thought. If breaking one of the cardinal rules of flying—also known as “PAY ATTENTION JACKASS!” by his brothers when they taught him—wasn’t enough, he’s not even going to the right place. Despite not living there for years, he’d been heading towards the town house and not the House of Wind. 

The storm just seems to be picking up, but at least with the downpour he no longer felt the warm spray of blood coating him rather than the paint, he just felt nothing at all. Well, nothing besides wanting to get the fuck home. Az really didn’t have the energy to fly up a mountain or winnowing through this even if it wouldn’t be his first time. But considering how often lightning hits the rocks rather than the surrounding city, crashing at the town house is easiest. It’s for the best, with it sitting empty now. At least he’d be alone. 

Az pauses mid-flight though, when he notices the lights already on inside. And the smoke rising from the chimney only to dissipate in the rain.

What the hell? Who would be dumb enough to break into their high lord and inner circle’s home? It’s not like it’s broadcasted who owns the house but it’s pretty common knowledge after this long. 

At least storms can be a great tool for his field of work, it’s almost a blessing in disguise he plans to use to its full advantage. Landing atop the roof as gently as possible, he ensures his wing beat blends in with the rain like it has hundreds of times before. Using his siphons to unlock the door and slipping inside, the creak of the hinge merely just a gust of wind as he shuts it behind him. 

That’s when the smell of jasmine and honey hits him so strongly he has to bite back his moan. But it seems like he was the only one who did. 

Because mixed within that scent ingrained in his brain, is Elain’s arousal. 

And she’s…

Oh fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

[sipsteainanxiety]

okay sooooo while procrastinating on my responsibilities i decided to make a giant list of the bkg/reader fics i've read (so far) on ao3. here's a link to the tumblr fic rec list i made a while ago too lol. please keep in mind that not all of these works are sfw!! i will label the nsfw-containing ones ofc but, as always, be cautious!

note: these are all LONG FICS. as in i sorted the bkg/reader tag on ao3 by word count and kept going until i hit works with abt 5k words. i might continue to add onto this list as i read more LOL idk

be still, just for me by WitchofWriting. this is THE bkg isekai fic tht i'm sure everyone has read lol. contains nsfw. there's also tedium in blue (mermaid bkg). i think that was one of the first bkg fics ive ever read and it will always be special to me LOL

of snowscapes & explosions by sugarbun. tbh i haven't finished this yet but from what i did read it's good!! canon compliant

other by Deadite. also haven't finished this one yet but it's a kind of coraline au!! interesting stuff tbh

enouement by LadysDaze. i read this fic a looooong time ago so i can't rmb much but it was p interesting! it's a choose your own ending type fic. there's also memento mori (fantasy fic w good worldbuilding tbh), entangle, expecting the unexpected (pregnancy/family fic), star-crossed (fantasy), blood bond (vampire bkg) and its sequel blood union tht i haven't read yet sdjfdfkg

misery business by siegmunde. OHHHMYYGODDD this fic. i was obsessed with it omg. i cannot even explain how insane it made me. has nsfw at end

cruel world by lydiasgrace. idt i finished this one but i do like villain reader LOL

like ghosts in snow by Jupiters_Witch. genuinely i think this fic ruined me /pos. vampire au & does contain nsfw things!! mind the tags

surrender (whenever you're ready) by OfMermaids (hi merms!!). THIS FIC. CHANGED MY LIFE!!! literally anything by merms is sososo good. i want to eat them all whole. on loop in my head 24/7!! contains nsfw btw. there's also the widening sky (mermaid bkg tht made me sad for days) and on my way (to you).

white curtains by arsonphobic. tbh i havent finished this one too but its got an older (by a yr) reader whom i liked! canon compliant i think

our love at sunset by LittleSponge. horizon zero dawn au. very well done imo. ending made me cry LOL (in a good way). contains nsfw

uncharted by NyxRedfoxWinchester. reader's quirk in this is soooo fucking cool to me. i read it a while ago so i dont rmb a lot but like i rmb the quirk and bkg LMFAO.

zigzags by hokshi. i can't rmb this fic all too well either but ik i liked it LOL. contains nsfw!!

newsflash, asshole (i kinda love you) by YukiRiikus_Reading_Room. fake dating au!! idt it contains nsfw but it has some steamy parts

i melt with you by art_deco_deity. i am so sad this fic hasn't been updated in a hot min bc its genuinely got fantastic bkg characterization!!!

garden of lungs by 0weCrew. ive read so many hanahaki aus that they've blurred together but this was v good!

exiles by BookWormOnAString. i'm currently reading this one actually! fantasy au with dragon kiri!!

how're your hands? by Spazztastic. another fic i read a long time ago. it's canon compliant i blv but i rly liked the reader tbh

body switch up by Fandomness_randommess. a body swap au if the title wasn't obvious enough LOL. it was interesting reading how both reader and bkg dealt with their predicament here pfft

husband for hire by btp. also currently reading this!! stardew au! there's also boîte de pandore. v good shit

gemini syndrome by opal_vortex. LMAOOOO this was such a fun read ngl. masked singer au!! will contain nsfw

mistletoe by WhenSarahSmiles. this is a UA christmas/new year's booklet that is sooooo well done tbh. i love bkg in it. super cute

and you take me the way i am by willowser (hi will!!). pro hero bkg in this >>>>> he is so AHHHH!! makes me insane. very well written!! contains slight nsfw.

bar tool by thunderhead. LMAO this is like a bar and band au combined?? i loooveeee bkg in this and his interactions with reader pfft. contains nsfw

sugar scorched by restwellsoon. culinary au!! bkg is like gordan ramset ngl LMAOO its rly cute imo and very detailed wrt the cooking things from what i rmb. idt it has nsfw

war paint by andypantsx3. i love how andie writes bkg tbh. he makes me wanna beat him up. there's also statistically significant, and cover shot (through the heart). all of them contain nsfw!!

learning your love language by hokshi. the author has the tag 'when ur love language is getting punched in the face' on this fic and honestly? LMAOOO so true for bkg. contains nsfw!!

oil paintings and late night jam sessions by insanityrunsinthe_family. this was also one of the first bkg fics i've ever read and it is so so so good. it's college au bkg and i looovee every part of it.

the phoenix by orphan_account. i'm so sad this fic was dropped but its plot is genuinely so interesting to me. it's more aizawa/reader tho tbh.

sleeping in the garden by Petrichorium (hi loriii<3). i will ALWAYS plug this fic. single dad bkg au!! sososo fcking good, trust. will contain nsfw

jealousy, jealousy by lytters. i think i rbed this on tumblr already but its such a fun read tbh LOL.

fathoms below by 32Q27. i'd started reading this and didn't get to finish bc life. mermaid au!!

a fractured flame by Magicow12. fantasy au!! very entertaining from what i rmb! contains nsfw

breath of a dragon by free_deku. i rec'd this before but im doing it again bc it's that good omg. fantasy & reincarnation au. contains nsfw!!

bakugô wants a ride. by Bragi. LMAO contrary to the title i dont think it has nsfw pfft. mechanic reader tht bkg's crushin on!!

turning page by rhydonium. THIS IS ALSO SOO GOOD omg i almost forgot abt it. god bkg!!!! i literally cannot describe how good it is.

[fishyingrn]

Swap AU Aleheather post!!

I love love LOVED (agh I can't say it enough sorry!!) @swinginspaceagebachelorette 's au of TDWT (≧∇≦) ʃ♡ƪ !! It's specifically a swap au between Alejandro and Sierra, and the way she writes Alejandro is just so endearing to read! He's like a golden retriever that has random knowledge! The fact she lowered the psycho-stalker quality is what helped endear his swap personality especially!! I think I already pestered her in her comment section about his personality and appreciating the heck out of her writing there 😹 I doodled a bunch since I just loved her au sm!!!

But before I start dumping doodles I made from the fic, the link to her fic is here ! Make sure you have an AO3 account before you read of course though!!😸

NOW FOR THE DOODLES MAUHAHAHAHHAHA

This is a scene from the fic ♪(^∇^*)! It's from one of the most recent chapters (chapter 29)

Zoom out of the scene lol

I still find it funny and shocking that Heather is able to support the weight of a man over 6 ft on her head 🙀Her head's gotta be made of STEEL! Super scary just how strong it is! Steel is my only conclusion for her head strength.. (Yes I'm not going to acknowledge the shocked Gwen, her issue of the day! she partook in cheating like a gross person and in great irony considering her s1 ordeal with Heather & Trent (* ￣︿￣))

ANYWAYS ONTO THE HC SECTION!!

These hcs are Aleheather centric like the one above since they're cutie patooties in the fic AND it's an Aleheather fic what do u want from me..(～o￣3￣)～

I think it'd be a nice off screen past time that Alejandro info dumps to Heather and she's at least partially listening! The dynamic kind of reminds me of Phineas and Ferb's parents in a sense where the dad infodumps to the mom and she just listens + enjoys it(❁´◡`❁) I LOVE that dynamic btw! It's such an endearing dynamic that to find it in my fav tdi ship is so sweet (to me at least!)

Onto my next hc!

Since Alejandro is taking the place of Sierra in this au, I thought it'd be sweet that he also adopted her hobby of glitter glue crafts. You know who also has a hobby of glitter glue crafts?! HEATHER💥

I'd think in one of Alejandro's off screen infodumps, he talks about his hobby of glitter glue crafts, the techniques and brands related to the aforementioned to Heather! She'd slip out some of her knowledge and love for it, OR she immediately starts rambling back about glitter glue crafts!!

THAT'S RIGHT BABY ( •̀ ω •́ ) !

Swap!Aleheather bonding over GLITTER GLUE CRAFTS 💥💥Ugh just how much more cute can you get with that headcanon?!

Another hc incoming!!

Since Heather always has her hair up in a ponytail in the main series, I thought a nice way to show her trust is with her hair! In general her hair has always been something special to her, that's why she fought for a wig in season 2. Since an AMAZING amount of value is placed on her hair, her showing her trust to Alejandro through her hair would be a nice way to visually show she trusts him! Alejandro basically the only genuine bond she's shown to make in the series, canon and in the fic, so I think the swap hcs make it just all the more sweet (/▽＼) !! In a way, since to Swap-ejandro Heather is just a celebrity crush, this sort of interaction deepens their relationship and his feelings beyond just a celeb crush (❁´◡`❁)

NOW FOR THE LAST HC!

This one isn't an Aleheather hc, but moreso a hc focused on Swap-ejandro's appearance! I think that as a trade off, he's not as physically built as canon Alejandro but instead taller compared to him (which is scary considering canonically Alejandro is 6 ft..) Since he's in the place of Sierra in this AU, he probably has enough strength to fight off baboons, he probably just has a hidden build! In general, Sierra and Alejandro in this AU had their skills and personalities swapped, so as a result their backstories technically were too with some small tweaks! I think this AU has been fun to make a bunch of hcs in, congrats if u got to the end of me convulsively info dumping about my hcs on the awesome au (lll￢ω￢) !

Full credits to the author man! She's mega talented! Please support @swinginspaceagebachelorette's work and any future works from her! o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

Signing off, hope this reaches the right audience!

[azucar-skull]

Buzz Brained

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @rbtlvr)

Fandom: Rise of the TMNT (post movie)

Prompt: (rottmnt) anything with casey jr. maybe him adjusting to the new timeline? talking things out with leo? up to you! can be hurt/comfort or just fluff i am not picky

Word Count: 2030

Posted on AO3 too!

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Btw, @lasanya539 and I ended up working on this prompt at the exact same time so we've been helping each other out. Lol. Be sure to check out her attack too! (Will link when ready)

-------------------------------------

It’s over.

The Kraang are gone. The team has recovered. Casey is (slowly) adjusting to the new timeline. Things look like they might actually be okay now.

But something keeps churning inside of Casey’s stomach. Like a black hole twisting and twisting. Sometimes it gets hard to breathe even though Casey’s just sitting on the couch just trying to relax. And sometimes he feels restless. Twitchy. Like that time as a child he snuck into Captain Donatello’s lab and drank his coffee. His brain would just…buzz. Incessant buzzing. With no way to abate it.

He tries the breathing Master Michelangelo once taught him. Tries shaking his arms out the way Captain Donatello told him about. Tries distracting himself with hobbies the way Master Leonardo did. But it doesn’t help. Something is rattling and boiling inside.

And it needs to be let out.

The next time he feels this buzziness is when Donnie asks him to grab Shelldon’s charging port from the lab. It takes him a minute to remember what’s going on. …What did Donnie ask him to do?

The buzz grows stronger, and Casey stands still. He feels himself beginning to space out. His fingers flex of their own volition. The only thing he can control is his breathing and…

Wait…what was he doing again?

Lightning erupts inside of his brain and suddenly the teen’s shoulders and jaw lock up tight, restricting his airways. Before he can register what is happening, his eyes roll back into his head, his head guiding the momentum of falling back hard on the ground. The force of the impact rings him anew and suddenly he can breathe again, gasping for air as he processes what the fuck just happened.

With his medical apprentice knowledge, Casey wants to say that it was a seizure. But it didn’t check off all the boxes. He was still awake, still aware. Never sustained a head injury, even now, his back taking the main hit of the fall. Never had one before so obviously he isn’t born with some seizure causing disorder. So…what the hell?

Casey sits up, cautiously. Nothing else hurts besides his back because…ow. Doesn’t feel dizzy, heartbeat and breathing seem fine. In fact, Casey feels pretty great. The buzziness is all gone.

Well alright then, case closed. Good job, me.

Now…why was he in Donnie’s lab again? Oh right, charging port. Casey gets up, dusting his knees and locating Shelldon’s port quickly. He picks it up and carries it back to the TV room where the others are waiting.

“There you are, I was starting to think you didn’t know what I looked like.”, Donnie calls out as he takes the charging port from the teen.

“Ah, yeah, sorry. I…got kinda sidetracked.”, Casey smiles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

Donnie pays him no mind and sets up the port for his robot son. And Casey tries to act cool again, ignoring the side-eye from Leo.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

These…instances keep happening. About two weeks go by without any issue until the buzz-brained feeling comes back. And then it all happened again! While Casey was trying to do his homework! What gives? Then it happens again another two weeks later. And again. And again. It’s been going on for a few months now.

Casey tries not to think about it. Because even thinking about it makes his brain all buzzy. And if his brain is buzzing then he’ll think about it even more. And if he thinks about it even more then—

“You alright, Casey?”, April asks.

He blinks and suddenly remembers that he’s at April’s having a Girls Night with Cass and Sunita (and him and Leo for some reason so is it really a girls night??). He glances down at the pink nails April has been painting on him.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good.”, Casey nods. His brain starts to buzz more.

He looks up at the TV to try and distract himself. They’re binge-watching all the Tinkerbell movies, the current one being The Great Fairy Rescue where Tinkerbell is trying to break out of a bird cage. He seems to be staring a bit too blankly, but he can’t seem to bring himself to look away. He’s not even focusing on the screen anymore.

“What kind of fairy do you think I would be?”, Leo asks.

“I would be a fire fairy.”, Cass nods.

“Fire fairies don’t even exist.”, Sunita snarks. “What about a light fairy?”

“Do they commit arson?”

“Well…no—”

“I want to be one of the queens.”, Leo says decidedly. “What do you think, Case?”

Casey barely stirs at his name being called. Poor Tinkerbell stuck in a cage. The bars are pretty wide though. Couldn’t she fit through? What a dumbass fairy.

“Casey?”

Man, his head hurts. …When did the lights get all blurry? Casey blinks, trying to clear his vision. This can not be happening in front of the others. The teen is just anxious from all this new world stuff, it’s just something he’s making up for attention. Though wait if it’s for attention, then how come he’s been trying to hide it? That just doesn’t make any sense—

His eyelids slip down as his eyeballs roll back into his head again, his head suddenly dropping forward as if cut from a puppet string. Shit! Not now! This can’t be happening right now! He tries to move, tries to force himself back to normal like he’s been doing this whole time. But he’s stuck.

“Casey!”, the others shout.

“Case, you okay?”, April asks again, shaking his shoulders. But Casey can’t respond, can’t even lift a finger.

Leo gets up close, at least Casey thinks so. He can’t see shit right now. “Looks like a seizure. Here, we should prop him up against something before he falls.” Ah, the infamous Leo medic mode.

He feels the others scoot close, using a group cuddle to hold him up. Oh, that’s nice. Someone moves his chin so that he can breathe easier. At least he can control that. He tries to let them know he’s here but all that comes out is a helpless sputter.

“You’re good, Case. We got you.”, Sunita assures.

“Come on, mini me, you can fight it!”, Cass encourages.

A couple minutes go by. And suddenly Casey’s eyes snap open again and he heaves, like waking up from a bad dream. And ow his head hurts from his eyes being stuck like that for so long. He squeezes them shut, sitting more upright as he groans.

“Careful, Case.”, Leo jumps in. “You shouldn’t move so much after—”

“It’s fine, Leo.”, Casey gripes. “It wasn’t a seizure.”

“Well what the hell is it?”, Cass tilts her head. “You looked possessed.” Sunita gives her a good jab with his elbow. “Hey, ow!”

“I…I’m not sure, really.”

“Well you seem to act like you’ve done this before.”, April crosses her arms and raises a brow. “How long has this been going on?”

“Ehh…4 months?”

“4 MONTHS?!”, everyone shouts.

“And you didn’t TELL US?!”, Leo adds.

“Well I’m always fine afterwards so it’s not like there's any imminent danger.”, the teen squeaks, rubbing the back of his neck. “I figured it would just go away. Besides…you’re still recovering from the invasion. You and the others. I didn’t want to add more to your plate.”

“Oh, baby…”, April laments, putting a hand on his shoulder. “That is…the stupidest excuse I’ve ever heard in my entire life. You need to see a doctor about this. Sooner rather than later.”

The woman gets up, taking her phone out of her pocket as she hurries over to the kitchen.

“I’m calling my mom, she’s a neurologist. No friend of mine is going to deal with “not seizures” like this by himself.”, she huffs.

Casey can’t help but feel more tense now that the others are getting involved. Back in the Resistance, this would be considered a nuisance.

“I don’t know if you know this, but this isn’t the Resistance.”, Leo points out. Wait, how could he read my mind— “Your suffering is just as valid, big or small. Hell, knowing Raph, he’ll have an aneurysm if someone so much as scrapes their knee. So promise me. No more hiding things.”

Casey presses his lips together. “...If I promise to not hide things, are you going to promise the same?”

“Nnnnot a chance.”

“Figured.” .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Let’s take a look, dear, shall we?”

Casey’s lucky that Mrs. O’Neil had a free hour the next day. He sits down on the exam table and lets the doctor do the work. He trusts her, Casey knows Dr. O’Neil from the future…past. Even if she doesn’t know him quite well. She pokes and prods the teen’s arms. Has him run a few series of tests. Asks him a few questions about these episodes. The doctor scratches her forehead as she looks down at her clipboard.

“Sounds like PNES if I were to guess.”, she says finally.

“...what’s that?”

“Psychogenic non-epileptic seizures.”, Dr. O’Neil explains. “It’s like a psychosomatic response to repressed trauma and other psychological disorders.”

“...Are you saying I have PTSD?”, Casey squints his eyes.

“Are you saying you don’t?”, Carol raises a brow. “You grew up in a literal apocalypse. As a soldier nonetheless. Without any chance to stop and take a break, I presume. You could bleed out to death but still force yourself to fight, am I right?”

Casey tries to testify but the only thing leaving his mouth is a sigh. She’s not wrong. There was no time for Casey to be having a moment in the apocalypse. Everything becomes a burden, even stuff like hunger and thirst. He had to hide it. For the sake of the Resistance. For the sake of the world.

“Casey…”, Carol sighs sympathetically. “Your body has been put under so much stress that it doesn’t know where to go. It causes you to feel nauseous or lose sleep, and those things turn into real problems like GI issues and insomnia. PNES is just simply another one of those psychosomatic symptoms that get way out of hand when left untreated.”

“So how do we treat it? How is it cured?”

“In some cases, it’s never cured. But we can work on managing it. As long as you’re willing.”, the doctor smiles. “The war is over now, Casey. It’s time to let your guard down. It’s time to heal.”

Ha. Yeah. Easier said than done. .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It takes a long time for Casey to get used to things. For starters, everyone is notified of the disorder and Donnie provides a lengthy lecture on the signs and how to help Casey out with his episodes. It feels embarrassing to be this coddled. This must’ve been how Master Michelangelo felt.

Of course things like seeing a therapist were in order. He was even prescribed antidepressants too for his anxiety. It was a tough process, talking things out with someone in a way that doesn’t imply he’s secretly from the future, as well as finding the right medication. But it does get easier.

And when an episode does happen…

“We’re right here, Casey. Let me just lean you back a bit…there we go.”, Leo reassures softly.

Small 3-fingered hands are holding his own gently. Spikes are leaned against him, keeping him steady. Someone is coaching him on how to breathe. He regains control of his eyes, blinking them open for a moment before shutting them tight against the lights.

“There we go, all done.”, Mikey smiles, the hands holding his squeeze. “That one was pretty fast.”

“Indeed. And the times in between each episode are getting longer.”, Donnie nods. “An optimal rate of improvement, well done, Junior.”

“Thanks you guys.”, Casey smiles, opening his eyes again once the lights stop hurting. “And…thanks for not giving up on me.”

“Of course!”, Raph beams. “We’re family now. In this timeline and the next.”

Yeah, he’s right. Casey will be okay. He just needs to trust his family more. There was no point in hiding. No use in keeping it a secret.

He’s not alone anymore.

-------------------------------------

Decided to have fun and gave Casey PNES as that's the running theory that my neurologist has for me. After a lot of research, I highly doubt it's the case, but until then let it be known that I did my best to maintain accuracy based on the research provided and the personal experiences I've endured.

In other words...Source: trust me bro

[craftyqween]

Ever After High: Revived and Alive

Sooooo… I kinda sorta made a post on Pinterest saying I’d make an EAH fanfic that was kinda gonna be like a continuation of the series- yes I know that’s a lot BUT I plan to release a new chapter on here, Pinterest, and AO3 at least every 3 months (but I’m really passionate about this so I might be on my zoom and post quicker) I plan to do maybe 5 different books? Or maybe you could call it 5 different seasons? Whatever, anyway- over the next two weeks I will binge watch everything and I mean EVERYTHING eah so I can capture it to the best of my abilities (obvi I won’t be able to perfectly capture it since I ain’t the one who came up with the idea lol). Then I might take awhile to figure out what I want to actually do with the story- again I’m passionate about this sooo imma be on my zoom. If you have any questions feel free to ask (btw I’ll be linking my Pinterest and AO3 acc later.) :D Remember to drink water and get hyped! Also reblog this so more people can see and maybe have some of the devastation that came with eah getting cancelled go away…

[toraawa]

ive been a fan of yours for a while and i gotta say, i think you have the best grasp of yurisere/predatorshipping in the fandom. you actually take their characters into consideration and acknowledge their complexity as two stunted individuals who are very different but similar instead of diminishing them to memey single-trait characters. its amazing how many other other fans reduce serena to only "edgey mean girlboss" and yuri to only "nasty psycho" and then call any other version of the ship than constant hate fucking, backhanded affection and beating each other to a pulp "wrong". very tiring how only a handful of us dont like that to be the only thing they ever do

btw, your fics on ao3 are a godsend. judging by your stats im definitely not alone in loving how you write yurisere. thank you for doing the lords work. cant wait to see more updates

First of all, thank you for the high praise! It's the second time this week I've been told something similar, lol!

Though I will say anon, the rest sounds pretty charged towards something or someone particular in the fandom, so at the risk of aggravating some current stuff I don't know about...

Yeah. I agree. A lot. You pretty much summed up my thoughts perfectly.

"Edgy mean girlboss" and "nasty psycho" for Serena and Yuri respectively is... extremely accurate, lol, to the point where I kinda have to laugh bitterly for how pervasive it is. Like, I know they both got shafted hard by canon, but it's a bit annoying when so many people override Serena's multifacetedness to fit the girlboss mold and accuse Yuri of being one-dimensional. I'vs seen some even get strangely angry at the prospect of him not just being the sadistic plant guy. I just don't think him only being that is true. Then again, I'm a staunch defender of the assessment that most of Yuri's character is shown, not told.

Unfortunately, the fanon interpretation of characters overriding canon is something that happens in pretty much any fandom, so there's not much we can do but ignore it and find like-minded people. It's super annoying, but it can't be helped. There's also a broader phenomenon of prioritizing tropes and meme-y dynamics over actually appealing characters, so there's that too.

Since we're all waiting for more canon interaction, I'm definitely in the minority in that I don't think Yuri and Serena's interactions in Duel Links will be a pure hostility fest the entire time. I've also gotten accusations over the years that my Yurisere writing is objectively "wrong" for a plethora of reasons, many of which you stated above, so... there's THAT, too.

At the same time though, that isn't to say Yuri and Serena would never fight or bicker or even be mean to each other — I never expect them to be completely nice and friendly to each other right off the bat. And people are free to write and draw whatever they want — I want to express my disagreement and only that here — so if I don't like it, I ignore it. The people who don't fall into fanon have a much more appealing, deep, and romance-forgiving interpretation of yurisere to me, so I just focus on that!

Anyway, thank you once again for being a fan of my writing! I'm honestly surprised at the following for my current fics on ao3. The Arc-V tag doesn't get much engagement despite being updated every day. It's always great to know there are others who enjoy and share my idea of Yurisere, so to anyone lurking: don't be afraid to reach out!

[iphoenixrising]

(6am / Prime Girl back with a hit of randomness hehe)

hi babe!! It’s been a long time since I’ve been around ;; I’m sorry about that! I saw your recent post about some health and family things that have been happening, and I am absolutely heartbroken for you. I really really hope that you’re doing well, and that you and kiddo’s year will be able to finish off well!!!<3 ;;

I’m actually back around bc I thought about you when I was driving home from work today and!!! I just really really wanted to come and tell you how much I look up to you as an author and how much you’ve inspired me even after these years since I first found your beautiful works ><

the way you write about emotion and intimacy and how it interweaves in so many different ways is something I think about every time I write something - I always think about the emotions you made me feel with your writing and how wonderful your works are I also post fics on AO3 now, but it’s particularly my ABO fic I wanted to mention to you because I’ve had multiple comments being like ‘I didn’t like abo before this’ or ‘some other fics I read were weird but this one made me give the genre a chance’ and in my head I’m always like OMG THATS HOW I WAS WITH WINTER BABE!! it makes me so SO incredibly happy and I’m always thinking about and am so grateful that you and your wonderful works literally changed not just the genre for me forever and made me ADORE the concept, but showed me that it can relate to love and yearning and intimacy in such incredible ways ㅠㅠ (I also get tons of comments abt people begging for mercy bc they cry every chapter but that’s not the point LOL)

Thank you so so much for being such an amazing author that not only produces beautiful works, but that has always interacted with me so kindly ㅠㅠ I was going through a lot of things when I was reading your works and they always brought me so much comfort (they still do btw!) and really showed me a way of writing that let me escape from my world for a bit and would have me in tears at 6am ><

Anyways, my life is surprisingly busy nowadays and I know yours is too, but I just wanted you to know that this blog will always hold such a special place in my heart and you inspire me always!!! much much love to you and to kiddo! I am seriously wishing you guys all the best, and I’ll try to be around a little sooner than this next time! 🥺

(p.s. IM SO SO SO SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY YOU LIKED THE CEO TIM PROMPT I WAS GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET ECSTATIC THAT YOU ENJOYED MY TAKE ON IT KDNDKDNSKSNKDNDKSMSKSJSK AND YOUR THOUGHTS???? JUST ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AS ALWAYS???? YOUR BRAIN IS AMAZING ISTG I WAS DEAD AND IM JUST SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT ><)

BABE. Babe <3 I'm so happy to hear you're writing things and it helps you with everyday life. Oh I'm just so, so happy for you. I've missed you as well and everyone else in the Tim Drake fandom, but the fact you're putting works out on Ao3?? You're writing wonderful things?? You're making people cry because you've pulled them out of themselves to feel things?? This is wonderful babe! This is the best news EVER! I'm so proud of you I can't even stand it. Writing is so hard and it can hurt so much to put things out there to people, and you are so, so brave and amazing to find your way. I'm thankful you've found the strength within yourself to do daring things.

Babe. Congratulation.

Send me links, I beg! I beg. I will read ALL THE THINGS AOB.

I still read the fuck out of fanfics but I've moved into BL (my fandom blog is a mess because I love too many of them) instead of DC, but releasing my fics back into the wild might have spurned something, might have brought back the muse a bit, so I might try to give it another go! I've got some very important chapters to things I promised people and maybe it's time I keep those promises. (Because @satire-please deserve a final ending to Dr!Tim).

I even went on the Capes and Coffee Discord just to talk out some ideas and that's a pretty big step to be honest.

But, even tho life is busy and you're moving into new, exciting things and people are rightfully in love with your fics and your brain, I will always have a spot for you here. You can always come back to me and read or talk out ideas or tell me how life is going. I adore you and hope only great things in your journey <3

(YOUR IDEAS ALWAYS INSPIRE I SWEAR I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH BECAUSE THIS THING WAS EASY TO WRITE AT THE TIME AND I STILL FEEL LIKE I COULD FLESH IT OUT MORE SOME DAY)

[captainschaos]

ran late on this, but my last and biggest writing for @mcyt-aro-week! day 6: coming out / found family & day 7: free day!

just some really fun fluffy writing for the big ol polycule of a household I like to rotate in my head, a bunch of aromantics, queerplatonics, and family <3 really a very self indulgent writing but truly that's gotta be the point of it all yayyy ^_^ (includes joel, lizzie, cleo, bdubs, etho, and tango btw)

[ao3 link] words: 3002

(I'm also including a longer pronoun reference for this one since I use a lot of funky ones. like I said this piece is self indulgent LOL) Lizzie: she/her Bdubs: she/he Tango: he/it Cleo: she/they/rot Etho: he/she Joel: she/he

-/-/-

Lizzie felt quite lucky to have such a splendid garden behind the house. Full of life and fresh fragrances, light and color, it was truly an environment with instantaneous spirit-lifting effects. And even better- she’d built that!

Well, not exactly. She can’t take all the credit. 

“What’s all this!” Bdubs exclaimed. 

“Hm?” Lizzie peeked around the corner from the garden bed she’d been working in, and spotted Bdubs at the bed over. She was biting his lip, frowning down at the leaves he was inspecting. 

Lizzie stood and made her way over to look over Bdubs’ mossy shoulder. 

“Just a little dehydrated, isn’t it?” she said. 

Bdubs’ frown remained persistent. “I’m not sure.” She looked up at Lizzie with those enormous eyes of his, head tilted just a little bit, questioning. It was very cute. “Isn’t the color a bit off for that?” 

Lizzie had to work very hard to steer away from those beautiful brown eyes to look back at the sickly plant. “Hm… you might be right. I still think it could just be thirsty though, and that’s definitely easier to fix! So maybeee we just give it extra water for a few days, and hope it goes away?” 

Bdubs immediately burst into his hearty laugh, and Lizzie found herself giggling along with her. 

“Oh, yes~” he said in that funny way she did. “If we pretend it’s not bad soil or something then surely it will be so!” 

Lizzie laughed, and brushed her knuckles over Bdubs’ cheek before stepping back to the plants she was working at. “Exactly!” 

Bdubs’ gaze seemed to linger on Lizzie for a moment, smiling dopily, but she quickly hopped up and headed back toward the house. “Grabbing a watering can it is~!” Lizzie blushed just a bit, but quickly got back to work in the garden bed. 

Lizzie liked this way they went about their… crushes, no use beating around the bush. Not having to hide it, but they had both agreed they didn’t feel the need to make it a standard kind of romantic relationship. It was for fun, more than anything else. 

There was something very freeing about being the only two alloromantic people in a house of aromanticism, surrounded by webs of queerplatonic and otherwise non-standard relationships, when considering a thing like theirs. Both of them had their marriages, Lizzie in a happily constructed romantic relationship with Joel, and Bdubs the happy queerplatonic partner of Cleo, but they were also both very aware of their feelings for each other. Those feelings didn’t go much deeper than fluffy romance for the two of them, but the underlying friendship and their security in the net of other dedicated relationships around them meant they could feel just fine about that. 

Funny thing about aromantic ideas, they’re actually a lot more freeing for everyone. 

Bdubs pushed open the back door to the house, stepping into the mudroom behind the kitchen, singing, “I’m home~!!” 

“You were in here 15 minutes ago, moss man!” Tango snickered from where he stood by the sink. 

“And that’s a long time for people to miss my beautiful face!” 

Tango set a sparkling clean bowl on the towel that had been laid on the counter beside the sink. It seemed the phoenix had ended up with the dish duties for the day. “Of course!” He murmured the next part under its breath, with a teasing twinkle in its eye, “would have liked another five minutes of peace and quiet though…”

“HEY!” 

Tango burst into laughter, setting down the sponge as he flipped to face Bdubs, leaning back against the counter as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, it’s too easy!” 

Bdubs put her hands on her hips, expression split between an offended scowl and a suppressed grin. “What’s easy?! Being- being rude!?” 

With a last huff of laughter, Tango took two fresh towels from a drawer, and tossed one to drape over Bdubs’ face in a gentle attack. “Making you mad, mossy. Come help me dry, will ya?” 

“Hmph!” Bdubs’ voice remained angry, but his big eyes were smiling when she pulled the towel off his face. “Only because I’m so nice. Unlike some people.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Grab that pan.” 

The two of them fall into an easy rhythm in moments, only the soft clatter of stacking dishes interrupting the comfortable silence. It’s like that with them, the teasing and ribbing flowing as easily as simple, undemanding company. Partners of the same partners, that’s kind of how it settled. There was something rather reassuring about the metamour relationship for them, where they knew what the other liked because they knew what they liked themself, a kind of mirror of affection. Maybe in a world where they hadn’t found themselves colliding from shared orbits, they would have run into each other on their own and filled the gaps. But probably not. It was too comfortable like this, why would they change anything? Held in proximity by the people around them, and happy to do so. 

The drying was done in just a few minutes, and Tango giggling at its own last joke at Bdubs as she stepped back out into the garden, watering can in hand. The phoenix put his hands on its hips, surveying the now clean kitchen. Seemed everything was done here, so now to decide what to do next…

The phoenix jumped and let out a very manly squeak as a loud BANG sounded from upstairs. 

“I’m fine!” Cleo’s voice followed. 

“You sure?’ Tango shouted up, already hopping up the stairs two at a time. 

“Yep, I’m sure! Just don’t come u-” 

Whoops. Too late. Tango had already pushed open the door to Cleo’s workshop. In its defense, the zombie ought to have known he’d come running at any scary sound. 

There were bronze feathers scattered across the floor, and a life-sized figure in smooth, blank clay laying awkwardly on its side. There was some kind of contraption wrapped around its torso to cling to its back, mangled wiring in two flared shapes. Wings. A few of the bronzed feathers hung from these outstretched tendrils of copper, still swinging from the momentum of the crash, and a few splinters of clay were still spinning where they’d shattered from the elbow that had taken the brunt of the impact when the statue fell. 

“Turns out, wings are a real pain to balance!” Cleo said, shooting Tango a flicker of a smile before kneeling to gather the feathers that had come to a stop at rots feet. Tango’s own wings readjust as it kneels to join her. 

“Wait, was this-?” 

“Yeah, it was for you, silly,” Cleo cut him off with a chuckle. “Or of you. Something like that.” 

“Whah! Wh-” Tango made a series of strangled sounds as his hair started to flare up, golden flames flicking to frame his flustered expression. 

Cleo laughed even more at that, and began to teasingly shake one feather at it like a disapproving finger. “I do nice things, Tango! Don’t be so surprised.” But their smile betrayed that there was no real hurt. 

It wasn’t everyday that the two of them did things like this for each other, but it also wasn’t rare either. Tango and Cleo exchanged the occasional gift, went on the occasional date, all in a platonic sense but certainly with gestures generally associated with romance. Their relationship was more based in much smaller gestures, like huddling up together when a storm had them on edge, or holding hands on the walk to stressful adulting business. They were founded on that kind of comfort, and it occasionally, naturally for them, bloomed into these kinds of things. They’d been jokingly called girlfriends enough times for them to be able to laugh about that kind of thing, so sure! They were “just” friends, but also did dating things. Why not? But it still managed to make Tango’s wings puff up with happy embarrassment about gestures like this. 

Cleo particularly liked getting those kinds of reactions from Tango. As she watched the phoenix stumble for a response to rots jabbing, they laid a hand on his shoulder briefly. “I’ll forgive you for the rudeness because you helped clean up though.” They rubbed her thumb over his shoulder quickly before letting up and walking to the desk in one corner of the workshop, where rot very gracefully dumped all the collected feathers. Tango followed and did the same, finally seeming to recompose itself to jab back. 

“You’d better! I gotta say, bangin’ around up here with a surprise, not even with the door locked? Rookie mistake on your part.” 

“It was meant to be locked!” Cleo exclaimed with a playful pout. “I told Etho to lock it when she left a minute ago.” 

Cleo then registered the footsteps that had been passing by a few seconds ago, but were now halted outside the room. A very quiet voice piped up. “I thought I’d locked it.” 

Tango exploded with laughter as Cleo banged open the door, laughing too hard to even pretend to frown at Etho. His own eyes were smiling though behind her mask. 

“Foiled! You have to help me fix it then, since Tango already took cleanup.” 

Etho leaned over to peek into the room, eyeing the contraption on the back of the statue Tango was currently standing back up. 

“Sounds fun, actually. You were having trouble with the balancing, yeah?”

“Yeah, extra limbs are always hard. And attaching the feathers is more of a puzzle than an art, really.” Cleo stepped to the side to let Etho into the room, and began to actually assess the damage to the statue. “I’ll need to patch up that elbow too… I’ll need fresh clay.” 

“I can grab you some,” Tango offered. 

“You’re my hero, that’d be lovely Tango.” The phoenix nodded, and hopped to the door, pausing in the frame before ducking out of sight and down the stairs. 

“Coming right up!” 

So Cleo was left to look at Etho while he looked at the statue. 

“Well?” 

“I would have thought that’d do the trick, honestly,” Etho began. “It looks even enough, particularly over the leg positioning.” 

Cleo chuckled and stepped to stand beside her, crossing rots arms as rot assessed the structure. “Well, that’s what I’d thought too, but,” they gestured to the bits of clay shattering on the floor, “boom.” 

“Yeah… not ideal, huh?” 

“Nope!” 

“Hm… have you tried anchoring it with some kind of extra plating?” 

The two of them were quickly caught up in flowing discussion, as natural as water rolling downhill. Didn’t even have to think about it, they clicked so well, and ideas seemed near-telepathically tossed between them. They were built on understanding, like that. It’s why a partnership worked so well, why they were home to each other. Who cared if Etho was a good kisser or any of that, it was never a thought that crossed Cleo’s mind, or vice versa for the fae to think about the zombie like that. They didn’t have to think much about their relationship at all past the few establishing conversations they’d had about it, it just fell into place. They understood each other, in ways no one else did. If that’s not what “queerplatonic” was for, then what was? 

After several minutes of this, Tango returned from digging through closets and storage chests with a package of fresh, soft clay, and Etho took a step back as Cleo reached out for it. 

“Thanks, Tango!” 

“No problem!” The phoenix glanced between the two of them. “You guys get it figured out?” 

“I think so,” Cleo mumbled, already only half-focused on conversing, hands now occupied with smoothing over the clay patch on the statue’s elbow. It made Etho chuckle, noticing the way they stuck rots tongue out between her teeth just the tiniest bit in focus. 

“I think rot’s got a handle on it now,” Etho said. “I’ll leave you to it Cleo.” The zombie’s focus broke for just a moment to shoot him a soft smile in silent thanks, before turning back to work. Tango seemed to be settling in to chat idly while she worked, but Etho turned on heel and headed downstairs. 

There was a breeze coming in through the open windows near the front of the house, and it drew Etho toward them. She found herself wandering into the living room, where he picked a seat near one of the larger windows, and-

“RAH!” 

“Joel!” Etho exclaimed with a laugh as he suddenly found one of the house’s two brown and green folk on top of him. Not soft enough to be Bdubs’ mossy form though, and the shout was definitely Joel’s. If it wasn’t for the sound and feel of her, though, Etho wouldn’t be able to identify him through the pile of person on top of him. 

“What Etho, you stuck? Fallen into my trap? Seems like I win, Etho, if you give up that easy!” Joel was managing to poke one finger into Etho’s ribs with each sentence, so Etho started working on detangling her arms to poke back. 

“I didn’t tap yet!” After a second the fae managed to grab what seemed to be Joel’s shoulder and tug him to the side, so the smaller figure was tucked somewhat into the spot in between the side of the armchair and Etho’s body. Somewhat. She was definitely still halfway on top of Etho, with one of Etho’s arms pinned behind him, but at least he could see Joel’s overly pleased grin now. “There.”

Joel pushed at Etho, partially readjusting and partially for the continued fight of it. “You’re pinching my leg, Etho.” 

“Well whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” Joel said with a smirk. Etho flicked her ear. 

“Okay, sure! Says the guy that jumped on me.” 

But as much as they were poking at each other, verbally and physically, neither of them were really trying to get away from the other. They just needed an excuse, of course. For the closeness, for them to be able to sit like this- and the wonderful thing was, they always found it with each other. The both of them had old problems with putting up walls, with their reputations seeming to push out any room for moments of weakness, but all it takes is one excuse to knock those down. Double Life’s soulmate bond, of course, but past that, little moments like this. For whatever reason, it was able to override any protest their proud minds might make. This was a sparring match, clearly, so they could relax and be fulfilled by the contact and presence of the other. And there was fun in the game, and a kind of admission of love under Joel caring enough to “attack.” At this point, they’d broken the walls down enough they were far more comfortable with the casual and sweet, but there was still such a power to these kinds of interactions. The ability to completely ignore any kinds of social rules, and just lay on top of each other in a chair that really didn’t fit them. 

“What are you two doing?” Lizzie piped in with a chuckle as she appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. 

“I’m winning,” Joel said, beaming as she reached back to poke Etho’s ribs another time to demonstrate. “See?” 

Lizzie shook her head as the grinned at the sight of them. “You’re going to break that chair.” 

“Joel might,” Etho said, which Joel of course repaid with an elbow to the gut. “Ow!” 

“He might fall out of it, if nothing else.” Lizzie glanced to give Etho a friendly wink. “You can give him a good shove, I won’t tell.” 

“Hey!” Joel shouted as Etho started to slowly push her in a way that would roll him over the chair’s arm and onto the floor if kept up. “You’re my wife, you’re supposed to be on my side!” 

“I mean, I think being your wife is the perfect reason to want to see you pushed onto the floor,” Lizzie said with a last giggle as she turned away from the doorway. “Love you!” 

Joel suddenly found himself on the floor. “Love you too.” He pushed himself up to sit criss-cross, and crossed her arms to match as she glared up at Etho. “Can’t believe you’d team up with my wife against me.” 

Etho giggled as he peered down over the armrest at Joel, propping his cheek up with one arm against it. “Let’s be honest, I could get anyone in this house to team up to get you.” 

Joel huffed, but not quite in an annoyed enough fashion to cover her own giggling. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

And she was. Across the web of relationships stretching through this house, there were a million little reasons for anyone else to join in on the fun, to feel comfortable enough to get in on the teasing without worrying about anyone going to far, to have affection worth demonstrating in such a way. Because Joel may have been married to Lizzie, but Lizzie was kissing Bdubs, and Bdubs was linked up to Tango through partnerships with Cleo and Etho, and Joel was tangled back up into it through each unique, inescapable connection. None of them were the same, but they were all built on this household. This house, safe and vibrant and alive as it was, shared by all of them, connected all of them. It was a messy thing, all the complexities and relationships that didn’t fit in boxes or under labels, but it was their family of a strange sort. The people who were havens of safety, the place they’d built to just exist together, comfortable and happy. Far from conventional, always a blur of interwoven interactions, but at the end of the day, dinner was usually at six, and everyone would have a bed to sleep in at the end of the night. 

What more could you expect from a home? 

[romaine2424]

Last Daily Blog September 19, 2023

Well, it was worth a try, but this didn't turn out like I hoped. For one, I couldn't keep up with a Daily blog or Weekly. My priority has always been on getting my writing done first, and since I've gone to a scheduled posting of once a week for my WIP, I haven't found the time. And since the goal of this was for more fandom interaction, I kind of failed there, too, so I lost the inclination.

I'm also going to stop posting my weekly WIP fic updates. My last post last Tuesday, and Reblog the next day got one Like. There could be a variety of reasons, but this is consistent. If I post a rec for someone else's fic or reblog something, I'll get a fair amount of Likes and Reblogs. If it is my own work....... So, since I have less than 200 followers, it's not a productive way to promote my own work. In other words, my fandom ego gets embarrassed. I do understand that I tend to write niche or on-the-edge Drarry fics. From politics to trans-female!Draco with Harry during the 2-year transition, and this one where we have bi-sexual!Harry (Draco's is in Azkaban for 30 years, and Harry has to marry to uphold the family bloodline). I get it. LOL

So, one last time: Chapter 15 of The Azkaban Letters is up. Next week Harry enters the Portrait Room to meet all of his ancestors.

Okay, enough about my personal issues. BTW I will continue reccing fics and watchout, @hd-fan-fair is coming up in October!

What I've Been Reading:

I'm thoroughly enjoying @oflights The Star Splitter. This is a Drarry Chapter fic that is updated regularly.

Summary:

On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him. In which Draco burns his life down for the sake of his former school rival.

@oflights is such an amazing plotter. Currently, there are seven chapters posted (34.5K), and Draco is in so much trouble that I haven't a clue how it can get resolved. It's truly delicious reading about Draco taking care of 7-year-old Harry but knowing he shouldn't be.

The Star Splitter on AO3

more recs and then fandom resources under the cut

@squintclover is a new author for me. She's got a very sweet 2 chapter fic going on where the first chapter has been posted. Twirling Cords (like in the muggle movies). I liked it so much that I perused her other fics posted and found this amazing gem. For anyone who loves Matilda and Ms Honey, Harry Potter; Miss Drew's Class; Y4 (2K) is a must read.

Summary:

A look at Harry Potter's life from the POV of his year 4 teacher, Miss Drew.

Snippit:

These are the last two lines of the opening scene:

We all go into teaching wanting to be Miss Honey. But none of us want to meet our Matilda.  Harry Potter is my Matilda. 

I don't tear up often, but in only 2K, I most certainly did.

Harry Potter; Miss Drew's Class; Y4 On AO3

Please give lots of love and comments to both fics!

Tumblr Resources:

How could I not do this section without mentioning thee amazing @sitp-recs. Reccer Extraordinaire! I'm guessing every one of my followers is a follower of Liv. Her pinned post is so nice and simple, but OMG there is so much under all of those links.

I was in complete awe this past Spring/Summer when she did the Rapid Fire Rec series. I mean come on, how did she do that? Someone gives her a prompt, and she turns around and gives 3 stories dealing with that prompt.

Liv doesn't do Fic Finds; she doesn't tolerate hate or neg comments. What she does is spread Drarry (fic and art) love in every way you can imagine. Tons of love and respect for @sitp-recs for all she does to keep Drarry and some of those rare pairs alive in hp fandom.

One last resource. I've had this on my list to post, but I couldn't track down the author. For those who write about Harry's childhood abuse, this is for you. If you know who compiled this list, please let me know, and I'll give the credit! It's well deserved.

HP Abuse

Okay, that's a wrap. It was fun!

As mentioned above, I'll still be doing recs and other commentary.

Cheers,

Rom

[salamandergoo]

any angsty stonacy fics you'd like to rec?

I’d be remiss to not link my own fic here lol. When You Go, Leave Me Alone was spurned on by the Stranger Things Writers’ Guild discord server and was initially going to be an adrenaline-fueled hookup at the end of the world that didn’t mean much to Nancy and Jonathan after the world didn’t end. The concept has changed a little as it has developed, I’m deep into chapter 2 now (but it’s looking like it’ll have 3 or 4 chapters by the time I’m done). It’s not endgame Stoncy, though. I won’t reveal who Steve ends up with, but that’s not super important yet.

This fic, They Don’t Talk After by @stevethehousewife, details a similar scenario, Steve, Jonathan, and Nancy hooking up after the various times they’ve all almost died, but with a much more hopeful ending. I’ve been reading through a bunch of their fics lately and really enjoying them btw.

complex by mgggsies on Ao3 is a non-linear fic that focuses on the highs and lows of the triad and takes equal time with each of them which I genuinely love. It has a hopeful ending and some bonus ronance!

i’m so good at telling lies. (that came from my mother’s side.) by ihaveforgottenn on Ao3 is a post-season 4 au fic that focuses on Jonathan and his trauma with his partners taking care of him. It explores the abuse he experienced at the hands of his father and the trauma from experiencing Horrors year after year.

Answering Your Call by @mrs-steve-harrington is an Omegaverse season 4-divergent fic where Jonathan and Nancy, bonded Alphas, follow Steve into the Upside Down after he dives through Watergate. Hurt/Comfort ensues. Listen I’m kind of obsessed with Steve getting hurt, particularly in seasons 3 and 4, I’m always going to be weak for anyone protecting and comforting him!!!

[depressopax]

Hii if its ok could I request some married life with Mike Ehrmantraut headcanons? Or like how he would go about proposing to (gender neutral) reader he’s been dating for awhile, I love all your work with Mike! 🩵

Thank you for the kind words and the request!! <3 It’s been a while since I wrote about Mike now, so I had fun writing this! :)  It’s a bit short thoo 😭 ALSO HIII FELLOW MIKE FAN  Hope you enjoy the fic!! <3

Pairing: Mike Ehrmantraut x gender-neutral reader Genre: Fluff, headcanons Warning(s): None (lmk if I should add any!) Words: 0.6k Summary: Married life with Mike would include... English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ||

Proposal 💍

I think I said this in my relationship HC’s for Mike, but… He’s the king of slow burn romance lol

Not because he’s insecure in what he feels for you - he does love you more than anything

Rather because he’s scared. Scared to move too quickly, to scare you away, and simply because his work “doesn’t allow it”.

Fuck it, let’s say he somehow quits his job for Fring… Then…

He’d be very quick to put a ring on your finger.

He realizes that his criminal lifestyle is the reason as to why he’s been so scared of a bigger commitment.

But now there’s nothing holding him back.

He has money, so he makes sure to find the perfect proposal ring.

Finally deciding on one, he tries finding the right moment.

He cringes at cheesy couples etc, which is pretty double standard-ish, considering he’s one cheesy mf when it comes to you lol

He takes you out to a fancy restaurant and then goes for a walk in the dark

After building the perfect romantic tension, he surprises you by kneeling before you

When he show you the ring, you can only think one thing: “Finally.” 

He can barely ask before you answer. “Will you ma-” “YES!” “...Can I ask first, at least?”

The two of you couldn’t be more happy - finally being able to show love for each other without secrets.

Friends and family of you and Mike are the first ones to find out. 

…And you can’t stop flexing with the ring to every person you meet lol Mike will be like: “Stop bragging with the ring”, but secretly loves when you do

Wedding 💒

Half a year after the engagement, you decide it’s time for a wedding.

Mike is a simple man, for him, it would be enough with a church wedding, or even just in the city hall

But you had bigger plans

And who is he to disagree?

If you want a big white wedding - he’ll fix it. PERIOD. 

Seeing you all dressed in white/in a suit is enough to make his heart melt.

You marry each other surrounded by friends and family

With Kaylee being the flower girl 🥹 (Btw, her and Stacey both adores you and are relieved to see someone finally give Mike the happiness he deserves <3)

The ceremony is beautiful and afterwards you have after-wedding party

You even successfully force Mike to dance with you lol

Honeymoon 🏖

Mike takes you on a beautiful honeymoon.

He wanted it to be somewhere adventurous, but settled for a nice place.

Probably hiring the best room at some beach hotel

You spend an entire month celebrating your love together, going to spas, hiking and exploring the city and… Other things ;)

None of you want to go back home, but then again - you’re married now. So it feels ok.

Married life 💕

You live in Mike’s house, but he eventually suggests moving to a bigger place, in a more calm neighborhood - and closer to Stacey and Kaylee.

You buy a nice two-floor house together

Cheesy as Mike is with you, he def does the “carrying his s/o over the threshold to the house” thing 😌✨

The two of you probably get a dog or cat, depending on your preferences - screw it, maybe both!

You are happy to return from work everyday and have Mike waiting for you

He kinda become a “househusband” lol

I feel like he’s a clean freak, so he def gets these impulses to deep clean the house when you’re away at work - and that way he can distract himself from missing you too much

He also spoils you with gifts and dinner

Movie nights <3

Mike has had an intense, dangerous life but now finally can settle for peace and calm, together with the person he loves. 

He is so happy he met you and grateful he got the opportunity to love someone again.

Thanks for reading! Btw, I'm currently writing on my first ever chapter novel fanfiction! It's a Nacho spin-off and an La casa de papel & Better call Saul crossover! Would mean a lot if you giys wanna check it out an leave a like or comment! Thanks <3

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