#tre and olly

[bigbigtruck]

SWEET ABILENE PDF IS NOW AVAILABLE!!

44 pages of pining, goofs, love, anxiety, lettering fun, and things that if I spell out may get this post hidden.

Print version will be funded via Kickstarter preorder starting later this week.

[jeypawlik]

Gift: Shot and Chaser

A little gift I did for @bigbigtruck in thanks for doing a quote for the back of the Dead City Omnibus! If you haven’t read Shot & Chaser, you should absolutely go do that (read it here!) They even framed it!

[pupsmailbox]

DOG︰WOLF ID PACK

NAMES ⌇ ace. affen. affie. aidi. airendale. akita. aksaray. alano. alex. alfie. amarok. amaruq. annie. apollo. archie. arianell. aries. armant. artemis. artois. ash. asher. aurora. badulf. bailey. bandit. barbet. bardou. barkley. basenji. bear. beau. bella. beowulf. biewer. blue. bluey. bolt. boris. boxer. brad. brenard. brittany. brutus. bud. buddie. buddy. buster. buttercup. buzz. cailean. cain. cairn. caleb. canaan. cane. canid. canis. carlo. carol. catellus. celeste. charles. charlie. chase. chewie. chip. cliff. clifford. coco. collie. conall. conan. conell. cooper. daciana. daisy. dale. darwin. dash. daxie. dexter. diana. dire. dixie. duke. dylan. echo. emory. eros. eskie. ester. fang. fenrir. fido. finn. ford. fox. frankie. ghan. glen. gold. gordon. gray. grey. griffon. grim. grimmwolf. hamilton. harley. havana. hero. hound. howl. hunter. indie. indy. jack. joey. kai. kaleb. kalev. kelpie. ken. kerry. kibble. kibs. kit. lady. leo. leon. llewelyn. lola. lowell. lucine. lucy. luna. lupin. lyall. lyca. lycro. lycus. mace. maisie. mal. malinois. marley. max. mia. miles. milo. mingan. mob. molly. mudd. mutt. nala. night. noire. noiresse. noirette. nova. nugget. nyx. oliver. ollie. orion. oscar. paxton. peach. pebble. phoebe. picard. pila. pluto. poppy. puff. pup. ralph. randelle. randy. red. redd. reika. remus. rex. rhys. riley. rocky. rolfo. roman. romulus. rosie. rover. rowdy. roxie. roxy. ruby. rudy. ruff. rufus. ruppell. russel. russell. sadie. scottie. scout. scruff. scruffy. selena. shep. shepard. shepherd. silver. sophie. spike. spitz. spot. stafford. star. stella. stick. storm. stormy. suki. teddy. terry. tiger. tosa. venerie. walker. will. wolf. wolfgang. zev. zip. zoey.

PRONOUNS ⌇　arf/arf. awoo/awoo. ba/ball. ba/bark. bark/bark. bite/bite. ble/blep. bo/bone. bo/bork. bork/bork. cae/canine. can/cani. cani/cani. canid/canidae. canin/canine. canine/canine. cha/chase. chew/chew. claw/claw. co/collar. coll/collar. cute/cute. dig/dig. dog/dog. drool/drool. en/energy. fang/fang. fe/fetch. floof/floof. fluff/fluff. fluff/fluffy. fur/fur. fur/furry. ga/game. grey/grey. grim/grim. gro/growl. growl/growl. grr/grr. guard/guard. ho/howl. houn/hound. hound/hound. howl/howl. hunt/hunt. jump/jump. lea/leash. leash/leash. lo/loyal. loyal/loyal. lu/lupi. lup/lup. moon/moon. mutt/mutt. muz/muzzle. night/night. pa/paw. paw/paw. pawprint/pawprit. pet/pet. pla/play. pla/playful. play/play. pooch/pooch. predator/predator. pro/protect. pup/pup. puppy/puppy. ri/rir. ri/ruff. roll/roll. rough/rough. ru/run. ruff/ruff. run/run. silv/silver. slob/slober. snap/snap. snarl/snarl. sni/sniff. snout/snout. soft/soft. squi/squirrel. star/star. star/starry. sti/stick. tai/tail. tail/tail. teeth/teeth. teeth/teething. tre/treat. tre/tree. wa/wag. wa/walk. wag/wag. walk/walk. wolf/wolf. wolf/wolve. wolv/wolve. woof/woof. yap/yap. yip/yip. 🌳. 🎾. 🐕. 🐕‍🦺. 🐩. 🐶. 🐺. 🐾. 🐿. 🔆. 🥎. 🦮. 🦴. 🧸.

[fodanse-gringos]

Catalina no tenía pensado ir al cabaret. Su plan era dejar a @highlandsailorcon ese mensaje y reirse en su cuarto mientras piensa en la cara de tonta que se le ha quedado mientras le esperaba. Realmente se la puede imaginar ya, está segura de que se la ha sacado un par de veces, pero aún así le parece una idea graciosísima.

Sabe que Maki trabaja junto a Reigna Young, la otra Regina Young, y no confía en que pueda contener sus ganas de saltarle a la garganta con una precisión mortal si se encuentra con ella. No le importaría rodear su precioso cuello de cisne con las manos y presionar hasta que dejara de respirar… si no fuera porque no es una pelea que esté segura de que vaya a ganar. Regina es una mujer más peligrosa de lo que deja aparentar, o al menos tiene aliados hasta en los rincones más inhóspitos de la sociedad. Incluso el dueño del cabaret, se ha enterado la rubia, es un ex-miembro del Team Rocket que, está segura, no va a dejar que le pase nada a una de «sus» chicas mientras él esté ahí.

Y si no consigue acabar el trabajo, esta vez ella será la presa en la mira de la otra mujer. Nyet, no se puede permitir eso.

Pero por otro lado… no le iría mal hacer trabajo de reconocimiento. Ver la ubicación del local en persona, los horarios de las chicas, las entradas, las salidas… pero lo que acaba de inclinar la balanza es lo divertido que sería. Ir al local en el que se encuentra su adversaria, pasar por debajo de sus narices y que no se dé cuenta. Quien sabe, quizá pueda incluso mandarla una foto de su propia nuca tomada desde el vestuario.

Catalina se muerde el labio. Se levanta del sofá y se va a su habitación.

Hace poco que Alex le gritó por ocupar demasiado espacio en el diminuto armario que comparten entre los tres. Desde que recuperó parte de sus cosas, irónicamente, ha echado más de menos tenerlas, en particular su ropa. Pero está segura de que dentro de una de las bolsas está el vestido que se compró para el entierro del padre de Mihail. Con un cuello de corte Mao y una falda larga y fluida, no solo hacen un buen trabajo escondiendo sus tatuajes, sino también sus curvas.

Lo deja encima de la cama y se mete un momento en el baño. Busca una lata de gomina, la que ha visto usar a Ollie, y se la pone en el pelo para echarselo hacia atrás. Posa unos segundos ante el espejo, se ve guapa con ese peinado… pero quizá en otro momento. Ahora se lo cubre, primero con una redecilla y luego con una peluca pelirroja. No tiene mucho tiempo para estilizarla, pero le gusta como le enmarca la cara. Finalmente, con un poco de base de maquillaje, se tapa la cicatriz de la cara.

Una vez vestida y con las gafas de sol, nadie diría que tiene ante así a Catalina Veloso.

El perro de San Roque no tiene rabo…Murmura para sí mientras sale de la caravana. ...porque un rabino se lo ha cortado. Para en el ultimo momento. Deja el movil apartado para darle un corto y pequeño abrazo a Rokko antes de salir, y le dice a la compañía de taxis que manden a alguien a recogerla.

Una media hora después, la irreconocible figura de la cambiada Catalina aparece ante Malachy. Ni siquiera su forma de caminar es la misma, aunque no es tanto parte del disfraz como que no le gusta demasiado ese vestido.

Buenas noches, рыбка . Le dice con una voz que no parece la suya. Se desliza las gafas por el puente de la nariz y le guiña un ojo.

[jammyness]

Some fanart of Tre and Olly because I really enjoyed @bigbigtruck's Shot and Chaser side comic!! :)) There's a few hours left to get a print edition, but digital is also available.

[bluetorchsky]

"Hey guys!" Aidan shouted as he stepped inside the ArcCoil room. "Special delivery for some very special people!"

"Hello Aidan!" Violin called back, as he and Accordion walked out of their bedroom with their twins in their arms. He raised an eyebrow as the young Toppat set out a woven basket on a table in front of the family. The top of the basket was lined with crinkly pastel colored paper and covered in multi-colored paper confetti, hiding something underneath. "What's this all about?" He asked as he held his son, Florence, in his arms, rocking him gently as the baby made spitting noises and giggled.

"I don't think we were supposed to be receiving any packages from anyone." Accordion added as he shifted his daughter, Aurelia, in his arms. The little girl was playfully hitting her father's arm, laughing as she was moved from one side to the other. She and her twin brother still had their mitts on when they were woken from their afternoon nap, to prevent themselves from hurting their hands as they slept.

The young Irish Toppat chuckled and rubbed his hands together. "Then consider this a surprise delivery!" He said before he reached into the basket and pulled two items out, each of them resting in both of his hands. "Ta-da! Happy Easter!"

In his hands were two large eggs wrapped with a blue and red ribbon respectively. The one with the blue ribbon was painted red with different hues of blue decorating it in a polka dot style. The second egg that had the red ribbon was painted in blue and had different red hues wrapping around it in a stripes style.

Violin gasped and smiled. "Aidan, these are beautiful! Did you make these yourself?"

"Sure did! Had some help from Scottie and their new apprentice, Eden! Took a bit to find the right ones but–"

"Hm? Hold on, Aidan." Accordion interrupted as he looked down at Aurelia with a frown. "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

Both Aurelia and Florence were starting to squirm in each of their father's arms, trying to remove their mitts while reaching out towards the eggs in Aidan's hands. Accordion clicked his tongue and held his daughter closer to him.

"No, no, dears. You're both not yet strong enough to hold those eggs." Accordion with a small chuckle as he tried to make her comfortable in his grip. "Don't worry, we have your toys in the basket over there–"

The twins didn't listen and instead spat out their pacifiers, the plastic objects falling and bouncing on the carpeted floor as the twins once again reached out for the eggs and said–

"Da-da!"

"Pa-pa!"

The room fell silent only for a few seconds before the twins started blabbering in their own little language, smiles on their chubby cheeks as they repeated their first words, Da-da and Pa-pa.

Aidan's amber eyes literally sparkled, laughing along with the twins. "Wow, their first words! This is grand!" He said before looking up his mentors. "I mean they were both different but similar in a way–Are you both okay?"

Accordion and Violin hadn't paid attention to Aidan, as they had turned their children around to face them, tears already leaking down their eyes like a rapid river. They both didn't say anything, lips trembling into a smile.

"Their...Their first words were-were u-us..." Violin stuttered, trying to keep his composure as he pressed his wet cheek against Florence's head, sniffling. "O-Ollie...Ollie!"

Accordion was no better, at a loss for words as he stared at Aurelia with a proud look on his face as he wept "I-I kno-know, Tre-Tre..." He said with a slight tremble in his voice. "I-It's...amazing..."

The twins tilted their heads in confusion as they watched their dads cry, while Aidan shook his head and chuckled. "Aye, I can't blame them..." He said quietly before he noticed something between the twins.

Both Aurelia and Florence looked at each other before looking back up at their dads with smiles on their faces. They both reached up and patted their dads' wet cheeks with their mitts, remembering how their dads did this with each other when they were sad, and giggled.

"Da-da..."

"Pa-pa..."

This caused both Accordion and Violin to both cry loudly, their tears hitting the wooden table in a happy but wet sounding pattern. They held their children close, whimpering and crying joyfully while Aidan just crossed his arms with a soft smile, letting the dads have their moment with their children.

After a few minutes, Accordion and Violin were sitting on the couch, calling up Alex and Eric to tell them what happened excitement vibrating throughout their bodies. As they did, Aidan sat on a pink fluffy oval rug with the twins sitting in-between his legs. He smiled at them and held up each of the eggs in his hands once more.

"Okay, tell me again who they remind you of." Aidan said to them, showing the eggs to the twins before holding them higher so they wouldn't try to grab them. "Come on now!"

Both Aurelia and Florence laughed as they tried to grab the eggs while scooting on their butts. "Da-da! Pap-pa!" They both shouted, kicking their legs happily and laughing adorably.

Aidan laughed, letting the babies try and climb over his legs to move around some more. "Brilliant! Just brilliant you two."

BONUS:

I didn't realize that Transgender Day of Visibility also fell on Easter, so this is a little something I added. Aidan is explaining to his two little siblings what the Transgender and Non-binary flag mean, since their Papa Violin is Transgender (FTM) and their sibling Zephyr is Non-binary, with she/they pronouns. I believe there is a specific date for the International Non-Binary Day of Visibility (July 14) but I needed another flag for the second egg so yeah.

At least I got this out in time Have a little something extra, just to show the dads' reaction to their babies' first words:

(They about to smooch their kiddos cause they love them oh so damn much, haha. Aidan just hopes they don't go overboard like they usually do)

Mention of Scottie Anderson and Eden Orchard belong to @jaytoons7

[corpsebasil]

hiiii ? miss me?

Modern Nikolai parte tres

For some reason you aren’t very surprised when His Royal Highness, Prince Oliver Lantsov, arrives on your door randomly one morning, stopping you on the way out of your apartment with a broad grin and wide splayed arms.

“My Everlasting Delight!” He greets you, formulating a dramatic expression as he peers at you over the frames of his sunglasses. “I missed you, darling.”

“Thought you were in Milan.” You say, staring him down with an empty grocery bag in hand. He shifts on his feet for a moment.

“I uh, was. But then Vivianne…” Olly makes a vague gesture and grimaces. “You know how models are.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“Well anyways,” the prince smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders, jovially tugging you down the walkway and towards the street. Cars drive by, busy in the heart of a bustling city. “I just wanted to let you know that my birthday party is coming up. We’re going to Switzerland obviously, and you must come.”

Your stomach twists and you cringe at your friend, the leather of his jacket cool against your arms as you walk. You shrug away from him, the scent of expensive cologne chasing your senses and blending with the crispy breeze of the outdoors.

“I’m not going this year.” You say, giving him a ‘duh’ look.

“Why?” His head actually cocks to the side.

“You know why.”

“‘You-Know-Who’?”

“He isn’t Voldemort.” You sigh, rolling your eyes even as your heart begins to weigh heavily against your ribcage, the too full organ seeming to be longing for a way out. “Yeah. Nik.” You sigh again, louder. “It’d be weird and he’d be there and I’d just—I don’t know, have to hang out on the sidelines at a lot of points and I just don’t think—”

“You’re my friend too, you know. If I want you there than he can be mature for once and behave himself, yeah? He’d do that.”

“This isn’t about him behaving, it’s—” you pause, running a hand through your hair in frustration. What do you mean? Sure, some part of you—more than you wanted to admit—longed to see him. To see the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, see the hidden grin he’d give you when he thought someone in a room was being ridiculous, the way he’d find an excuse to touch you no matter who was around, the way—

“Y/N?”

You look at Olly. The prince’s eyebrows are furrowed, an unspoken question on his lips. You force a faint smile and loop an arm through his, resting your head on the boy’s shoulder for a beat.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” You lie, squeezing his arm for emphasis. He nods but a gleam of suspicion lights up those familiar brown eyes. “Seriously. Now what are you doing here?”

Olly watches for another beat before shrugging, relenting to your change of subject.

“Shopping.” He muses, then smiles deviously. “Join me. I have my mother’s card.”

—

The days leading up to the annual ski-trip were filling you with anxiety.

On one hand, somehow Olly had forced you—against all odds—to attend the weekend outing. An overnight flight to Switzerland later and you’re standing in a large hotel room, the view of snow-clad mountains and trees meeting your stare.

When a knock hits your door you turn, opening it hesitantly. The entire hotel smells like expensive vanilla and hints of smoke from the fireplaces, undercut with natural cleaners from the ridiculously efficient housekeepers. The figure standing outside the door gives you a hesitant smile, his freshly cut blond hair short and shiny in the light.

“Hey, Y/N.” He greets, voice laced with nerves, and your heart stops.

Nikolai.

Hello

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.26<< >>Ch.28

Notes: A 6 year time skip into your life with Miguel.

Chapter 27: Birds Fly in Different Directions...

Word count: 6k

“Urgh! He's too strong!”

“Take out his knee. The knees!”

“It's too hard.”

“Try harder.”

“But I don't want to take out his knees.”

“Just get the knee, Mari.”

“Ollie, move!”

“No, you move, Cielo! Come on, Mari, the knee! The knee—aah!”

“Haha, got you three. Now for the tickle goblin!”

High-pitched shrills and loud giggles sprang from three children.

Trying to escape the grasp of the big man, they were doing all they could. 

“Papa is too strong!” Mari, a four-year old, squealed out in delight.

“We will never give up! Right, Cielo and Mari?” Ollie, a rambunctious six-year old, tried to squirm out by doing any sort of maneuver, but it wasn't working out for her.

“Papa wins. Papa wins.” Cielo, who is also four, gasped out before flopping his limbs out.

“Quitters. That's what you two are. Don't let him win!” Ollie screeched as she was hoisted in the air like she was an airplane.

“The other two have raised their white flags. Will you give up and raise yours?” Miguel spoke in a deep, directing voice, but the smile on his face was giving his position away.

The other two watched one, sitting in the grass right by his legs.

“Never! Now, Mari and Cielo, I tricked him!”

Miguel quirked a brow when two bodies wrapped their arms and legs around his long ones, attempting to tug him down.

“I'm defeated once more by los tres inteligentes. Outsmarted again.” He eyed his surroundings, making sure not to crush them. He brought himself to his knees, allowing the three to tackle him to the ground. 

You stepped out, closing the screen door behind you, and leaned against one of the wooden columns, observing the mini-beatdown Miguel was receiving. A sight that never fails to make your cheeks rise and your eyes crease.

“Aren't they just the cutest, Apricot?” You tilted your body towards your curled-up, patchy orange shorthair cat, who was perched up on the railing.

He blinked and went to lick himself, tucking himself back in his position to enjoy his nap in the warming sun. 

“Alrighty, I'll leave you be.” You stuck your tongue out playfully and went to watch them for a few more seconds when Ollie was winding up, ready to body-flop right on Miguel's face. It was time to put a halt to the wrestling match.

“Hey! Lunch is ready, guys.”

Three and a half sets of red eyes peered in your direction. Any sort of shade always manages to bring out that glow in them. 

“Race you there!” You heard Ollie shout before taking off towards the house. The other two stumbled behind, pointing and whining that she was cheating and going too fast, but your eldest sprinted by before flinging the screen door wide open.

“No running—no running in the house.” You called out as quickly as possible when the other two flew by. “Wash up, you three.”

A chorus of “Yes, mama” sprung out, having you giggle and shake your head, when a pair of strong hands gripped your shoulders, massaging any tension away.

“Mi Luna.” You heard the smile.

“Mi Estrella.” He heard yours.

Spinning you and bringing his lips to yours, you hummed in the kiss, his claws thoroughly rubbing your middle. 

“Aren't you forgetting something?” You teased, gesturing downward. 

“You know I never will.” He dropped to his knees and cradled your growing belly in his sheathed claws. “Hola, mi estrella fugaz.”

Leaving a trail of kisses from your belly button up to your forehead, he wanted to savor every inch of your gorgeous, glowing skin and softness, until a squabbling match pulled him right out of it.

“I swear those two.” Miguel shook his head, holding the screen door open for you.

“I bet there will be a day when they finally get along.” You strolled in, heading towards the open kitchen, and were immediately met with Cielo and Ollie pointing accusatory fingers towards one another, trying to override the other's argument.

“Okay, okay. Calmar. Ollie, sit properly in your chair before you fall over.” You made your way over to the two, and they started the accusations back up. 

“Ola- Ollie. Silla.” Giving her a look, she fixed herself and apologized. “Now, starting with Cielo—oh, Miguel, the plates are under the warmer; can you get them, please? Now, Cielo, first, explain your side. What's the problem?”

“Ollie was trying to take my mat.”

“No, I wasn't! Cielo was–”

“Olan- Ollie, you know not to disrupt when someone else is speaking.” Miguel sat the meals in front of everyone and took his seat next to yours and Mari. 

“Yes, papa.” She grumbled and crossed her tiny arms.

You bowed your head for Cielo to finish his side. “Ollie was trying to take my mat 'cause she said she wanted it, and she wasn't being nice.”

The oldest was fighting not to speak over Cielo, staring at their baby brother to hurry up and finish. 

“Okay, now Ollie.”

“Cielo was trying to take my seat, so I told him no, and if he does, I'll take his mat.”

"No, I did not!” Cielo bared his small fangs.

"Yes, you did!” Ollie raised her claws, making Miguel clear his throat very loudly. The two turned towards him, who was giving them a look of not trying anything to hurt one another. They both leaned away from each other.

“Cielo, tell the truth. Did you, or did you not try and take Ollie's seat?” You raised your brow as your son's eyes darted away to the corners, gazing everywhere but at you. 

“Okay. Cielo, don't try to take someone's seat or anything unless you ask first. Ollie, no taking his mat when you get upset; if something happens, you come get either me or papa, yes, ma'am.”

They both answered, making you smile and nod your head. “Bien, bien. Ahora bien, let's eat. Thank you for waiting so patiently, Mari.”

She gave a thumbs up and a giant grin, snatching up a chicken nugget and beginning to devour it, the other two joining along before talking amongst themselves.

“I swear, it's like magic how you're able to get them to admit things. But then again, you've always had it.” Miguel pecks your cheekbone, making you wiggle your nose.

“You have it too.”

“Mm, I have the opposite effect. The infamous staredown.”

“That's only with you and Olan- Ollie.” You nudged his thigh with your knee.

“She gets that stubbornness from you.” Miguel takes a bite of his sandwich when he feels eyes on him. He peers down to meet your unamused ones. “Bien por nuestra parte. She gets it from us.”

You roll your eyes playfully, making you both laugh. You loved this man to no end.

For the past seven years, you and Miguel have been joined at the hip. Each day is somehow better than the last. Yes, there are a couple of moments of clashing heads, especially when it comes to the three tiny ones running around, but you both always persevere through them, not letting it toil you both around. You combat them with grace and patience, applying it when matters drive south. You also incorporate it into your everyday lives. 

“Mama, papa, can we have cake when we're finished?” Mari spat a few bits of chewed-up fries on her plate and table. Miguel, on instinct, cleaned her up, whispering calmly to remember not to eat with her mouth full.

You eyed the container of the sweet dessert, half eaten, sitting on the counter. The twins recently celebrated their birthday, and you allowed the two to get a bit more of the treat, but it made them both react in a crazed sugar rush, forcing you to prevent them from hauling themselves up the walls with their lack of sticking abilities.

You found that out the hard way when Miguel almost plummeted off the roof during the building process of your home, when he and a couple of spiders forgot about the giant undid hole a couple of feet away from them. The others managed to catch themselves and stick to the shingles and wood, but your husband couldn't merely cling, or a few of the support beams would have likely snapped from his razor claws.

Thank goodness for his web, but that was a new factor to get used to.

“Mi Luna?” Miguel placed a hand on your shoulder and looked down. “I promise I won't sneak in an extra dessert for them.”

Miguel saw your hesitancy. Because right before the cake was cut and consumed, he went out and brought Cielo and Mari a decent-sized extra sprinkled, frosted sugar cookie, splitting it three ways between him and them. He didn't think much of it because he believed it would have worn off by the time they did the happy birthday shindig, but that wasn't the case.

“And if they get too wound up, I promise to handle it all.”

“I don't know...” you sang, trailing off and looking everywhere else. You guessed where Cielo might have gotten that from.

“Pleaseee?” A choir of tiny, squeaky voices and one smooth, deep one won you over.

“Okay, okay, but only—only for lunch. And make sure to drink something with it.”

A spring of cheers and excitement filled the table as the three conversed about getting the yummy bread. Miguel turned to you with his hand on top of your thigh before sliding it along your stomach. “¿Alguna vez te he dicho lo hermosa que eres?”

“I think I may now believe it.” You winked, leaning in to kiss him, when Cielo and Ollie got into another altercation about Ollie's finger being too close to Cielo's side. 

Miguel offered to handle this one, doing his best to get them to work it out, when the impromptu showdown between him and Ollie began. Mari and Cielo giggled, shuffling in their seats, as you chuckled at the squinted faces of your oldest child and husband, getting a good look at your family.

Eyeing your twins, you distinctly recall the moment you learned that you weren't having not one, but two babies growing in you. When Dr. Penelope stopped by to do your first ultrasound, you did feel off—an apprehensive sensation for the first two and a half months. You expressed your concerns to her, and she got straight to work, hoping nothing was causing any problems that early on in your pregnancy.

Ollie was in her toddler bed, down for her nap, as you, Miguel, Dr. Penelope, and Lyla eyed the holoscreen, revealing your new child.

“I'm keeping an eye out to make sure nothing is harming the child. You've been keeping up with the venom dosages, correct?”

You and Miguel nod together.

“And did you have problems like this with Olana?”

You shook your head. “None, besides her crazed kicks, nothing of the sort.”

“Hm. Okay, let me move to this side and see—”

Dr. Penelope was cut off when Lyla's body popped up in front of Miguel, a giant shit-eating grin on her face. “Oh-ho, you are in so much trouble. Double trouble.”

The three humans gazed at each other, trying to understand the cryptic message from his old assistant. 

“Lyla, what are you implying?” Miguel and Penelope shared the same thought.

“You better hope one decides to devour the other, to claim victor to be the only one.” That Cheshire Cat smile was not going away in the slightest.

It took a couple of seconds, and then that's when it dawned as you reached for your husband's shirt, pulling him very gently to you. 

“I said you could have one child. Una. Niño.”

Those nine months were the most tiring moments of your life. You could handle one pair of feet of karate kicking your stomach, but two? You were prepared to create a device to transfer the luxurious pain to Miguel.

Your perseverance was certainly rewarded when Miguel held the two in his arms. His eyes glossed with many emotions. 

“Mi hermoso Cielo y mi hermosa Mariposa.” That’s what he whispered over and over. 

You both agreed on the names when you spotted two butterflies fluttering in the blue skies on a beautiful spring day. It was cheesy, but you two loved it.

The twins resemble Miguel more than anything. A few swear Cielo has a bit of your features if one were to squint hard enough, but all you can see is his father. They inherit those bright, ruby eyes, but when in the light, if you don't look too closely, they appear as a dusty brown.

“Ollie.” Miguel leaned closer, not wanting to let that smile slip. He clearly means business.

“Papa.” Your oldest held a cheeky, menacing grin; that impish gleam in her left bright red eye showed that she too meant business. 

Ollie is the one who obtained most of your looks, but the moment you put her next to Miguel, the resemblance is uncanny. The back and forth of “Oh! She looks just like you!” or “Oh! She looks just like Miguel!” is staggering. Genetics is a weird concept to you, no matter how much your geneticist of a husband explains it to you.

But, you do know, the most distinguishing part of her was her heterochromia. The first night you went to check on her, you noticed one glowing cerise eye ominously staring up at you, frozen in fear. You and Miguel almost had a heart attack, convinced that your child had somehow lost an entire eyeball during the process of her birth, only to have Dr. Penelope portal in to check and reassure that, no, she didn’t miraculously lose a whole eye in the womb, but had the uniqueness of two different colored irises.

You and Miguel always laugh at the conclusion you two reached. You were first-time parents; everything was a death trap, and Miguel was the overprotective papa bear who refused for even a second to put down your daughter. After the twins' birth, however, you managed to relax more, realizing it's not the end of the world whenever they even open their mouths to let out whatever squall or whine they were building. Miguel, on the other hand, was at their beck and call. In the millisecond, he heard even a single hiccup of a cry. 

You tease, saying that's probably the reason why Ollie takes Miguel's personality more than anything. Maybe even more. 

With neither one backing down, you had to shut it down or they would have this weird standoff all day. Especially since they were distracting the others from eating.

“Miguel. Olana—”

“Ollie!” She jabbed herself in the chest with her thumb.

“Right, I'm sorry, Miguel and Ollie, let's try to finish lunch before it gets cold, please?” You scratched the side of Miguel's hair, then poked Ollie's nose.

“Yes mama.” The two said it together.

You nodded your head in thanks and took a bite of your meal.

You couldn't recall why Olana—well, Ollie—wanted to start being called that. A couple of months ago, during dinner, she randomly exclaimed that she would be known as Ollie now and forever. You and Miguel went along with it, thinking it was probably a small phase, but whenever ‘Olana’ would slip out from anyone, she was right there, glad to correct anyone. 

You remember her name sticking to you out of nowhere, and you couldn't shake it away. But when you did your research and saw that the name's origins meant ‘life’ and ‘continuing on with it,’ you grasped onto it and refused to let it go. Miguel instantly agreed to the name and placed it in the number one spot if the baby was a girl.

It was effective for you both, but for Ollie? Not so much now.

Ever since, the name has been a household one. It does get a bit difficult, but you both stumble over it and fix it in a flash. 

Thankfully, the twins and a few others picked up on it.

Lunch went on without a hitch, the four indulging in their cake and a swift wash up before darting off upstairs to play with Apricot following them in at his slowest pace. You and Miguel stayed down to wash the dishes, listening to the sounds of their feet moving back and forth, exclaiming for them to play nicely whenever an argument tried to wring its way through. The collective “sorry!” would reach you two, and it would always get you both to laugh.

This was peaceful. It made you happy, and it most certainly made him full of joy and happiness.

“Thank you, mi Luna.” Miguel kissed your forehead and placed the last plate in the cabinet.

“For helping with the dishes? We always wash them together.” You wandered over to the living room and cushioned yourself on the couch, making sure to place your swollen feet on the coffee table. 

He followed suit and took your feet off the surface and onto his lap. “For this life, mi Luna.” Miguel reached for a bottle of lotion you kept on the table's storage shelf.

“Of course, mi Estrella. You don't have to thank me; you deserve all of this, and I will not get tired of repeating that.” You cradled your stomach and sunk more into the couch, sighing out from the relaxing foot massage.

“I know… I need to say it.”

“Oh goodness, Miggy—”

“I know, mi Luna, I know. But these past six, close to seven years, you have blessed me with a beautiful life. A new start, a family, a gorgeous home.”

“That you insisted on taking care of.” You blew a raspberry, which got him to chuckle.

Miguel ended up purchasing two acres of land the second he found out about you bearing his child. 

Well, you first took the time to make a plan about the construction of the house, how much you'll have to pay, and the legal process of building up the home. You wanted to do extensive research about the location and exactly where you'd be. There was an instant agreement on wanting to leave the city all together. It was less of a hassle for you two and the kids you were planning, and it was perfect for Miguel to get a complete fresh start.

You were thinking of buying a nice home in a town that held about 400 people, but Miguel practically begged to build up a home that you two could design together. And that was away from people. He didn't mind being close to the population, but Miguel had no intention of residing within it. You were fine with the request and came to the compromise of living on the outskirts, about twenty miles away, in a more wooded area. It was far, but not too far for you to take the child to school, get groceries, or whatever essentials you all needed. 

That was the easy part. The hardest part was when Miguel insisted on paying for every little thing. You didn't mind him getting the land, but when he asserted himself on buying every ply of wood to every small nail, you couldn't help but want to jump in and help. Even when Miguel showed you the ridiculous amounts of funds he'd accumulated over the years, that still didn't get you to budge a single inch.

There was eventually a middle ground where you paid to break your lease when the house was completed. But Miguel handled everything else. Again, much to your dismay.

He did let you help by buying snacks and meals for the spiders who assisted with building the house.

That was a hell of a time for you. In an amusing way, of course.

When Miguel left the society under Jess's hands, things went one-eighty for everyone. It became a giant clubhouse for the heroes. Anomalies still managed to slip through the cracks, so there's dedicated teams to take care of that. There's also times where the spider-humans assist in each other's universes if things get too out of hand or they simply don't have the time to deal with their villains. It's basically an off day for the heroes to catch up on their lives. Things were certainly more “chilled out,” from how Miguel updated you whenever you questioned the facility at the time of your pregnancy.

You didn't get a chance to see the building in action, and even seven years later, no peek, but you didn't mind. He was definitely more at peace when the weight of billions of multiverses was no longer on his shoulders. The most he had to deal with were the bunches of spiders who were there to help construct your new home.

When Peter B. learned that you were pregnant, he blabbed about it to Jess, much to Miguel's dismay, but he held those restraints and heard Peter's plan for having him and the others take care of everything. From head to toe. It took a bunch of begging on Peter's end to convince Jess, but his persistence paid off. 

It was a straightforward ‘yes,’ from you, especially since you were two months into your pregnancy and Miguel didn't want his firstborn or you in that stuffy apartment.

That day, when all was confirmed and house designs for the farmhouse were approved, the work immediately began with Miguel being the leader of the project and you as the co-leader.

Day in and day out, fifty or so spiders would portal in with tools, materials, and heavy-duty appliances into the wooded spot. Miguel guided them on measurements or other details. You would chime in too, having prints of the layout on hand in case someone needed to confine it.

It went well. There were a few hiccups, especially dealing with people who seemingly held similar personalities… and names. That freaked you out when you tried to get Peter's attention, only to have about thirty or so heads snap their attention over to you, concurrently answering you. Miguel forgot to warn you that since they are alternate versions of one another, they were most likely to share a given name.

“So how do you know who is who?”

“By their earth's number.”

“Oh. Well, I don't have that many months to learn all these Peter's numbers, so give me the primary Peter.”

You hung around E-616 Peter and his Mayday, even though he was told multiple times not to bring her, but you kept her entertained. And Jess whenever time permitted her to be around. 

You and Jess did hit it off really well, more so when she learned that you were curious throughout her pregnancy. She also let slip that she didn't blame you for indulging in Miguel's behavior of sneaking you into the HQ. You couldn't tell if it was pregnancy hormones or what, but Miguel got the scolding of a lifetime from you. He was very guilty (especially because he had you believe that all was okay), and you apologized profusely, which Jess brushed off, saying that him getting reprimanded was enough and to let bygones be bygones.

You did nudge him about a bit longer, but only for a couple of more minutes. He also apologized to you many times, but you forgave him with no hassle. 

Things progressed; even when Miguel was at therapy sessions, you and Peter B. took over. A few chatted with you and stated that Miguel seemed much more cool-headed and amiable to work with the others. If things were going south or not going how they should've gone, he would talk to them and hear about other options. It spooked them, but they welcomed the change of pace.

You were proud, and you made sure to express it every chance you were given. He even held some pride in himself for his growth, but he wouldn't admit it.

The home took exactly four and a half months to make, from perfect wiring to furnishing, but when it was complete, you remembered the tears welling up in your eyes as you both strode hand in hand on what the future would hold.

And it certainly contained a lot.

“Mi Luna?”

“Mhm?” You lay your head on a nearby throw pillow.

“Reminiscing, mi corazón?” He trailed faint circles around your swollen ankles.

“Mm, maybe. Wondering if we need to add another room and bathroom.”

He grinned and gave a quick peck at your leg. “Four is enough. And a fourth bathroom wouldn't be so bad in the future when the kids start getting older.”

“Aww, you're not hoping for the constant arguments about who gets to use the shower first or how long one has been hogging up the bathroom for an eternity?”

“The way Cielo and Ollie go back and forth now, I think I'll have to prioritize that extra space soon.” He leaned back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling fan, then back at you. “Te amo, mi Luna.”

Your heart surged with a million emotions as tears began to leak from you. “I love you too, mi Estrella.” Your sniffles were violent as you tried to hold back those sobs choking at your throat.

Miguel pulled you onto his lap and cradled you close. Every day, Miguel has never taken this life for granted. Every second, every minute, every hour, every month, and every year, he wakes up grateful, filled with that memory of love that he has forgotten. The surrounding reminder is that he is allowed to have it and that he has always been deserving of it.

Drying your tears, you buried your head in his neck and sighed out. “I never want to move from here.” 

He slipped away and stared you in the eyes.

Thud.

“You won't ever have to worry about that. Because you know I'm not going anywhere. You'll need an entire brigade to move me, and I still won't budge.” He rubbed his forehead on yours, and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Glad to know that I have rubbed off on you just a tad bit.” 

“Ay, mi Luna, you have done so much more than rubbed off on me ‘a tad bit.’ I'm always excited to know what the next day will bring and what it'll show me. To know what my beautiful family has in store next.”

"Well, luckily, with the four upstairs, they’ll always have something surprising for us.”

A loud thump and Apricot’s screech emerged from the second floor, having you and Miguel whip your necks at the stairs to see the cat rushing down at lightning speeds and right into his tower. 

“Ollie. Cielo. Mariposa. What was that?” Your body suddenly felt more exhausted, rubbing your temples, awaiting several different answers being blurted all at once from your adoring children.

The sounds of tiny clawed feet sprinted towards you two, all, of course, shouting over each other about who did what and who wasn’t to blame. You held up your hands to calm them down, and like clockwork, only Mari stopped, and Ollie and Cielo kept going. You gave Miguel a very depleted look, and he understood right away.

“Está bien, Ollie, Cielo; vamos a darle un descanso a mamá. Tell me, separately, what happened. Ollie?”

She spouted off how Cielo tried to take a toy that she was using from her when he butted in and denied all claims. Back and forth, hearing both sides, Miguel nodded his head and then turned to Mari.

“Cielo was using the toy, and Ollie wanted it, so she tried to take it, and it hit Apricot. Can we go see May and Uncle Peter?” Mari crawled next to you and laid her head on your belly.

“We're going to see them this weekend. And Jess and Gerry will be there also, remember?” Miguel stroked her hair before turning back to his other two. “And you both have to get along. You have to take turns and ask when you want a toy the other is using. And if they're busy with it and they say, ‘Not right now?’”

“You find something else to use.” Ollie swayed from side to side. 

“Mhm, and if they're not listening or trying to bother you, you call for one of us and we'll help, okay, Cielo?” You added in.

“Yes, mama.”

“Me alegro de que ambos lo entendáis. Now apologize to one another, and don't forget to say sorry to Apricot.” Miguel gestured to the cat, who was giving a tired, grumpy expression at the two young ones.

After giving their “I'm sorrys,” the two jostled over to Apricot, apologized, and pulled out his favorite toy to play with him. Mari slid down and joined her siblings, crawling in between the other two and taking more cat toys out of the small bin. Giggles and squeals filled the atmosphere, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into Miguel.

“You're really good at this parenting business.”

“I'm still not as good as you, mi Luna.” He chuckled at the three taking turns dangling toys in front of Apricot, who happily swatted at them all. “There's still times where that fear of me not living up wants to settle in. And not just for this.” He mumbled toward the end.

You heard the last bit and had to hold back that charged flare of him bringing himself down. “I understand that the worry lingers, but stop that. You're an amazing dad and person. That hasn't changed then, and it'll never change now, mi Estrella. You saw what you wanted, you seized it, and you continue to strive for it.” You kissed his forearm and lingered for a second. “Now, would you like to reaffirm my statement?” 

Miguel had to really stop and stare at everything. He zoned out and thought.

The sun rose, and the sun set. Each day that came, he took it on, but in a different light. He was given this second chance, the field illuminated by the new shining glows that cast on him. He allowed it in after being so alone all that time. How that period was encrypted with bleakness until you showed him it was okay to move forward and confine in those who want to see him bloom, just like a flower. 

He did work on this and doesn't feel the need to put an end to it. 

He still has more to learn, but right now? Right now, he's okay.

And when he looks down at you with those gentle and compassionate eyes, he knows he has come far. When he takes the time to look at the family and the home he's built, he knows he did this. Everything he has been through and worked for wasn't in vain. He isn’t stopping or giving up on this life. For you, his family, Gabriella, and mostly for himself.

“You okay, mi Estrella?”

“Si, mi Luna. Taking what you said into consideration and really digging into it, I will have to agree that I’m a pretty decent dad.” He leaned down and gave you a deep kiss, which you gladly returned when the soft snickering gathered in your ears.

“Mama and papa are kissing.” Ollie pointed at you two, and Mari followed soon after.

“They’re kissing! No fair!” Mari pouted and crossed her arms.

“Aww, you hear that, Miggy? They sound pretty jealous. Maybe we should do something about that.” A playful smirk crept on you. Putting you on the cushion seat next to him, Miguel scooted up to the edge as the three stared, anticipation coursing through their veins.

“Aw, no quiero poner celosas a mis estrellas fugaces.” He got into a position and showed a glint of his fangs.

“Run!” Ollie squealed out, but the three weren’t as fast as him. He scooped them up in his arms and began to give many kisses all over their tiny faces.

“We're under attack!” Cielo slapped Miguel's chest.

“Fight back! Fight!” Ollie tried to grapple at his neck but was met with tickles as she squirmed and howled with laughter.

Mari managed to slink her way out, hobble over to you, and climb on the couch. “Can we call Mayday and Uncle Peter before bed?”

You kissed her forehead and poked her nose. “Yes, we can. Now are you going to help your brother or sister, or will you just watch?”

Mari dazed out for a bit before snuggling deeper into your arms with a giant grin on her face. You couldn't help but snort and move her in closer with Apricot dodging the wrestling match (that Miguel was losing) and settling his way to you. 

You couldn't help but encourage the other two to get him, telling them where he was coming and how to get him down. Miguel was flabbergasted by the betrayal of his own wife when Mari jumped back in and dogpiled alongside Ollie and Mari. You cheered when Miguel admitted defeat and laid sprawled out.

The rest of the evening was filled with pillow and blanket forts, a loud video call with Peter and his family while you made dinner, and a very over-the-top and animated acting of a couple of fairy tale bedtime stories.

That night, when the three were fast asleep, you and Miguel cuddled up on the porch couch, the moon and a star gleaming the brightest among the others.

“A new month.” You pointed up and dipped your head into his chest, enjoying the soft breathing and the steady heartbeats.

“A new beginning.” He placed his sheathed claws underneath your stomach and kissed the crown of your hair. “Hey, mi Luna?”

“Mhm?”

“Gracias. Gracias por todo.”

“Now what did I say about thanking—”

“Mi Luna.” 

You turned up to face him, those crimson eyes staring right into you. You smiled and kissed his chin. “You're welcome, mi Estrella. I'm here by your side, no matter what. You know I'm not going anywhere.”

“And I'm not going anywhere either.”

“How many flowers are in the field?” You turned to your own garden, peeking out from the side of the house.

“Many. Marigolds, lavender, daisies, tulips, and sunflowers.” His touch was light on your face. “There's still a lot more wanting to sprout.”

“Endless, and I'm so happy I get to see them.”

“And I will make sure to take care of each one.”

You met in the middle, his lips hungrily attacking yours and his hands gliding along your delicate skin.

“Meet me upstairs?” You gasped hard, your chest heaving up and down.

“Yes, and be careful, mi Luna. I'll be up there in a minute.” He tapped your bottom some.

Giving one more lingering kiss, you didn't conceal your giddiness when you giggled like a schoolgirl and went up to your bedroom. Miguel laughed and peered up at the sky one more time, giving the moon and star a long glance before heading in himself.

On his way, he made a quick detour to the living room and to a bookshelf with many knickknacks and photobooks you both saved that were very important to you both. And right on the second shelf, towards the top, was a picture of Gabi surrounded by lavender and the flower that represents the new month that both you and him decorate and maintain.

“Hola, osita. Estamos bien. Estoy bien. Tal vez incluso un poco mejor que eso. I miss you. Every day I miss you, but I know you're besides us, having a blast with your siblings and your mamá. They love you; she loves you... I love you. I wanted to tell you that and for you to rest well. Buenas noches, mi hermosa y feroz osita.” He stroked the marigold framing, bowed his head, and made his way up to you.

The beautiful moon enriched his view with its milky shine. And the rustling of the winds flowing through never felt so nice. 

The smell of the soothing florals and the tickling when they brushed against him.

He didn't know his path then. He swore he did. He truly believed that his road was only destined to be isolated and crumble underneath. 

But now...

Now Miguel O'Hara understands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@prozacgooble @sanguwuxyoonbummy @ella-janehaven

[dysthanasia-series]

Thin Edge of a Wedge Pt. 1

Summary: Isaac approaches Renato with a surprising request. (Possible future scene taking place shortly after Phagophobia, based loosely on this prompt.)

Words: 2,075

Content Advisory: Sexual themes and situations, consensual vampire hypnosis, angry sexual tension, enemies-to-forced-allies-to-lovers, swearing, kissing, biting, consensual blood-drinking, violent vampire feeding thoughts, enthusiastic consent, fade-to-black ending

Renato turned his head and leaned in a fraction as if his hearing had failed him. “I’m sorry. I thought you said—”

“Hypnotize me. Dorian says it’s possible to learn how to break out of bloodborn trances with practice. So, help me train.” Despite the direct words and his matter-of-fact tone, Soto kept his gaze—usually so bold, so sharp—trained on a far corner of the motel room. An arm crossed over his middle, gripping the opposite as he sat on one of the two shabby beds.

While his body already knew which way to cast its vote, Renato’s finer faculties hesitated. “What prompted this?”

“Hm, gosh, let me think. Oh, right. We’re surrounded by Unseen Hand agents who’d love to stab us in the back.”

“Are you implying you could get lost in another bloodborn’s eyes? Agent Soto, you wound me.”

“Can you give being an asshole a rest for, like, half a second? I’m serious.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable request, truth be told. Quite pragmatic really. Possibly even laudable, given all Soto had recently suffered—no small amount of which sat at the top of Renato’s ever-growing list of mistakes.

That’s precisely what made it so suspicious.

Renato took a seat on the bed across from Soto’s, the rickety frame squeaking as he crossed his legs and leaned back on both hands. “You didn’t have a problem snapping out of my hypnosis the first time. And you seem to have at least some level of immunity to Kinslayer’s version now.”

“That’s not the same as being able to resist questioning in a casual situation I’m not expecting, or with weird soul magic involved. Like you keep pointing out, if Oleander or Motley or any of the Unseen Hand gets wind of what we’re actually up to we’re dead.”

Again, a bit of strategic paranoia worthy of an aquila. Something was definitely off.

“Fine, suppose I agree,” Renato said. “What, exactly, do you expect me to do?”

“I dunno. Ask me stuff I wouldn’t want to answer and I’ll try to resist.”

The sensible thing to do on his end was to walk away, of course. Ignore Soto and whatever strange impulse was driving him for the rest of the evening. Heaven knew there were a hundred and one tasks actually related to their survival that needed his attention.

Only none of those sent a thrill up his spine.

“Okay, let’s do it.” Renato leaned forward and put his hands on his thighs, smiling. He had enjoyed the odd sleepover party—sharing secrets, truth or dare, all that—as a child when they’d been possible. A shame Ollie wasn’t staying in the same motel. He wouldn’t have minded asking for a couple of her facial masks.

With just a trace of trepidation, Soto mirrored his posture. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Released it. Met Renato’s amused gaze with grave determination. “Ready.”

“What’s your name?”

A divot of annoyance appeared on Soto’s brow. “You know it already.”

“Remind me.”

“Isaac Soto Marquez,” he huffed.

“Your birthday?”

“July seventeenth. Which you also know.”

Well, he’d glanced at it in the Coven’s personal file on Soto, although that had been weeks ago. Considering Renato didn’t remember the exact date of his own birth (which might have already passed since he did know it occurred during storm season), he’d have to make a note to write Soto’s down. Get his favorite grumpy researcher a little treat. Speaking of which…

“What sort of cake do you like?”

There. Surprise smoothed out Soto’s expression. Without disapproval or anxiety etched around his mouth or eyes, it was easy to remember he was barely coming up on age thirty. “Cake? Er, tres leches. With fruit on top, not cinnamon.”

“What kind of fruit is your favorite?”

Shoulders relaxed. Pupils dilated slightly. “Well, uh, I like summer ones the most. You know, mangoes, cherries, peaches.” A pause. “That last one’s my favorite, though. I love peaches. Even from a can.”

“Really? I used to love oranges, though of course I can only enjoy them for their smell now. Some of my best memories are of stopping at ports with orchards so I could pick some.” Renato smiled, earning a shy one in return. “Have you ever eaten fruit straight from the tree or vine, Agent Soto?”

“I…yeah. Yeah, a lot of the werecreature communities I’ve visited have gardens. And I did the whole picking strawberries thing during the spring once with Jeremy.” A soft, faraway sheen shone over dark brown eyes.

Renato ran his tongue along the back of one fang. He had Soto now. While their little game hadn’t been Renato’s idea initially, he wasn’t sorry he’d played, whatever the true stakes. “Who’s Jeremy?”

Creaking as weight shifted the other bed. “My ex.”

Careful. The trick was not to let the prey become too distressed. To give him a little guiding nudge here and there along the path, but to always keep him going with the flow of conversation, not against. Not until the trap had sprung and it was too late. “I see. How many relationships have you had, Agent Soto?”

“Just two. Long term ones.”

“Oh, that’s hardly anything to be embarrassed over.” He had one more than Renato under his belt, after all. And, well, he doubted Soto could have done any worse than Ollie and him had. “Even if you’d had hundreds that didn’t last past sunrise it still wouldn’t be.”

“I know. I guess…sometimes I wish I’d been more aggressive or outgoing or whatever. Elfy always gets pissed when we go out and I turn someone down.”

“Elfy? Your friend from the spirits department?”

“Yeah. She’s always telling me to loosen up and stop thinking with the head on my shoulders so much.” A hand flew up to cover a giggle.

As far as life’s little delights went, Renato ranked witnessing the angriest, most stubborn human he’d ever met giggle just below watching his aquarium. “But that’s not really your style?”

“Nope.” A twitch of the fingers, flicker in the eyes. “Well, okay, once in a while—when I’m really drunk—it is.”

This entire situation came into sudden, cold focus. Decades of training kept Renato’s expression, his mask, from slipping, though. “Would you say you’re bashful when it comes to flirting?” He had certainly read Soto that way during their fateful first meeting at that diner. Though he’d swiftly shed whatever reservations he’d had once they crawled into the backseat of the car.

“Mm. Not really. Not after I get what’s going on.”

“No? High standards maybe?”

“Don’t think so. I don’t have a…a type or whatever.”

“Perhaps you have a hard time surrendering control then?”

Another fidgeting ripple disturbed Soto’s reverie. “I…something like that.”

“Is that why you asked me to hypnotize you, Agent Soto? To surrender control?”

With a jerk, his flustered prey wrenched his gaze away, half-collapsing onto the mattress. Soto panted, his skin gleaming from a light coating of sweat, like he’d just finished running a lap. The tart, candy-apple scent of fear wafted over to Renato, prompting a flood of saliva. Swallowing, he let his lips twist into a smirk.

“That’s a failing grade, as far as I’m concerned.”

“What…?”

“Your tactics could use some work,” Renato continued, uncrossing his legs and rising in one smooth, dignified motion. “Also, I don’t appreciate being subjected to hidden tests. I may not have made the best choices in life, but I’m not so despicable as to ravish someone under the influence either.”

Blinking owlishly but stare quite clear, Soto whipped around to gawp at him. “What do you—”

“Good night, Agent Soto.” He could understand, at last, why Ollie and his reluctant human roommate relished their perches atop a high horse. The rush of victory was amazing as he spun on his heel and strode toward the room’s door.

The sound of grating bedsprings warned him before a hand latched onto the back of his shirt. With a deft turn and shrug, Renato broke the laughable hold on him.

“What the hell—” Soto began.

“I understand the need to hold a grudge.”

“—do you mean—”

“What I don’t get is digging for more reasons to fuel it.”

“—by ravish?”

They stared each other down. Any possibility of hypnosis taking hold tore apart in the clashing currents of hot and cold fury radiating between them.

“I wasn’t testing you,” Soto said, breaking first.

“Oh, really? Please do explain. I’m all ears, as they say.”

“I told you, I want to learn—”

“You’re terrible at lying, Agent Soto. Even to yourself.”

He bristled, the all too familiar defiance setting his jaw and sparking in his eyes. “I’m not—”

Renato whirled and reached for the doorknob.

Weak human fingers scrabbled at him once more. “I don’t know how else to talk to you, all right? And I didn’t think you’d pry into my love life, for fuck’s sake!”

The truth at last. Instead of melting, the rage inside of him expanded, sinking fresh, keen icicles deeper into his chest.

Of course Soto couldn’t simply talk to him. Renato was a bloodborn. Worse, he was an aquila. He wasn’t capable of human mistakes. Or emotions like remorse. At best, he could pretend he was. Wear a charming disguise. Beguile. Lure. Distract. But never offer anything permanent. Never anything real.

“Say something already!” The grip on his shirt tugged. “Don’t give me this silent treatment bullshit.”

Whatever mask had settled over his features made Soto let go and take a step back when he turned.

“Do you want me to make you lose control, Isaac?”

Soto stiffened. It didn’t hide the tremor in his limbs. “You conceited prick.”

“Isaac.” He’d forgotten how good the name felt in his mouth. “It’s a yes or no question.”

Narrowed brown eyes spat death curses at him before darting away again. Soto’s tightened lips parted. No sound came forth. They sealed shut again.

Renato sighed. “You’re a bad liar, but I never took you for a coward when it came to being honest.”

He could have dodged, easily. Instead, he allowed Soto to grab his shoulders and bring their mouths crashing together. Let him decide, too, when to break away and stagger back, chest heaving, stare wide at his own daring.

“That’s not an answer, Isaac.”

“You—!”

Renato slipped one hand around the back of Soto’s head, weaving his fingers into careless black curls but not pulling. Not yet. The other cupped Soto’s jaw, pleasantly rough and raspy from a couple day’s worth of stubble. With his thumb Renato wiped the frown from his lips.

“Yes or no.”

Soto closed his eyes, but it was already too late to hide anything going on behind them. A half-choked swallow made his throat flex in the most enticing way. “I…yes. Yes, okay? I want it.”

It. He wanted it, nothing more. Of course. Still, Renato could do better than a grudging confession.

His hand went from cradling Soto’s face to tearing open his shirt—the shirt always fucking buttoned up to the collar. He should have been a priest, truly. Soto gasped from the sudden violence or the air hitting his exposed shoulder and chest or both. Not giving him a chance to recover, Renato leaned in and started sucking on every bit of bared skin he could get at. Not biting, no, never that again, no matter how much he wanted to chew and rip until Soto’s pulse burst in his mouth like a ripe slice of orange. He only let his throbbing fangs graze over warm flesh, press against it to leave imprints of his teeth behind. Maybe prick it here and there so his tongue could lave over the precious ruby beads of blood afterwards. Savor each tiny shock that shot through him and made the world’s colors scintillate for an instant. Soto threw his arms around Renato to stay standing. Each sharp kiss drew a new, delightful prey noise from him.

He was even more intoxicating than memory served.

Pulling back, Renato inspected his work. Half a dozen little reddish-brown bruises trailed from Soto’s neck and skimmed along just above the curve of his collarbone. A satisfactory start.

“Yes?” Renato prompted again.

Eyes still shut, Soto shivered. “Yes.”

Much, much better. Smiling, Renato guided his willing victim back a pace and shoved him onto the nearest bed.

[liminalweirdo]

If you haven't read the (FREE! ONLINE!) comic yet about queer esoteric lifemates Tre and Olly what the fuck are you waiting for?

[bigbigtruck]

No time to actually draw lately but scribbled out this wedding meme yesterday (https://x.com/HeyaNeon/status/1770993265032221034?s=20) And... yeah I guess the one thing my main guys have in common is being VERY low key about marriage, if they ever even took that step

[umbershift]

can u pls share ur webcomic Lists

I'm putting together a proper List and it's taking way longer than I thought it would so I'm gonna go ahead and throw out my favorites with links to the About pages if I can manage it:

Midnight Furies: My current favorite comic, has been for a couple years now. Urban fantasy basketball. It’s got a shark lesbian and a Best Girl and a sorta himbo and just some SUPER cool art. Read it

White Noise: At least to me, this one’s got a strong focus on grief and community and relationships. And xenophobia. Lots of fantasy creatures and magic in a modern setting. A good comic if you like world building. It just finished its first story arc and has a big backlog, so this is a very good time to start reading!

Shot & Chaser: Tre and Olly, a matched set, go storm-chasing. I found this one because of a short sort of nsfw sketch comic that made me fall in love with Tre and Olly. I first read it less than a month ago and I’ve reread it in its entirety about four times

Check, Please!: This one’s completed! Eric Bittle (Bitty) is gay and just started playing college hockey, and the comic covers his years on the team! It’s very cute and sweet, and I love the support that Bitty gets from people around him throughout the comic.

O Human Star: This one’s also completed! It’s sci-fi, it's got robots and it discusses gender and queerness and being out and being closeted. The last pages make me cry every single time I read them.

Barbarous: I love love love the art and paneling and colors on this one. Percy is a super smart magic school dropout helping maintain/run an apartment building (I can't remember the job description) along with Leeds, a big monstrous-looking guy with, shall we say, some secrets. It’s got some really cool “who is the monster and who is the man” vibes

I'm trying to focus on non-webtoons here but I can't not recommend Lavender Jack. It's only on Webtoon, as far as I know, but I ADORE it. Think batman-style crime fighter but with Spider-man levels of banter, and also he's a 1910’s gentleman. This one's also completed!

Also, and I cannot stress this enough: if you like a webcomic, go follow the artists/writers on social media. They often share webcomics and creators they like, which leads you to more webcomics to read. I found out about a lot of these from artists I was following.

[nonsaremodellestar]

Ha firmato nello stesso identico giorno in cui firmò Olli tre anni fa, spero gli possa portare tanta fortuna e che quando se ne andrà lo avremo amato tanto quanto abbiamo amato lo Sparviero.❤️

[fodanse-gringos]

Está sola.

Completamente sola.

Rodeada de la oscuridad más absoluta.

Todos sus sentidos anulados, no hay un sonido, ni el viento.

De pronto, el olor a podredumbre, y el tacto suave de una alfombra de pelo bajo sus rodillas. ¿Sus rodillas?

Claro, está en el suelo, arrodillada. Y el olor a podredumbre viene del cadaver descomponiendose a escasos centímetros de ella.

Mihail Ivankov, el cachorro de la bratva, su estudiante más avanzado. Dado muerte y deshonor por un monstruo de piel humana. Se llevó su caballera como trofeo. Y su nagaika, el simbolo de un imperio más grande que cualquiera de las tres personas presentes en esa habitación.

Catalina apoya las manos en el suelo y se acerca al cuerpo. Aún nota un sabor amargo al verlo. Lo ve a él, en ese rostro desfigurado, y en las arrugas de su mueca. Extiende la mano y la entierra entre el pelo que le queda en los laterales de la cabeza y, sabiendose sola, libera un amargo quejido.

Mihail Ivankov, su cachorro, yace, habiendo sido dado muerte y deshonor por una bestia de piel humana. Lo ve en su rostro desfigurado, en la sangre seca que le recorre la frente y en el liquido transparente que le supura por la cicatriz de la cara.

Y está en sus manos darle caza, buscar a ese monstruo y-

SU CABEZA EN UNA BANDEJA, ESE ES EL MENSAJE

La voz proviene de dentro de su cabeza, pero también del fondo del mar de oscuridad que la rodea y de lo más profundo del infierno.

Una garra helada coge el pelo de Catalina y tira hacia arriba. Nota el filo de acero de una hoja contra su garganta.

Y con un movimiento hábil se desliza de lado a lado.

Catalina grita y se sacude. No está en una habitación oscura, sino en el sillón de masajes de una autocaravana. Y tampoco está sola. Vive con Alex y Ollie.

...

Se enfada consigo misma, no son sus amigos.

Aún así, nota el peso de la ansiedad sobre su pecho, y solo se calma cuando lo ve.

Su katana. La katana de Mihail. Al lado de la puerta, lista para su transformación en un símbolo. El símbolo de un imperio más fuerte que cualquiera de las personas involucradas en esta historia.

[otschen]

**KOOL** **FUCK GENRES - I LIKE ESSAH**

>>> Essah..Melbeatz..Olli Banjo..Azad..Moe Mitchell..Sido..Masta Ace..Tajai..Velezka..Kurupt..Plan B..Maeckes..Caput..Mo Trip..Ercandize..Kobra..Franky Kubrick..Sizzlac..Laas Unltd..Jifusi..Phreaky Flave..Amar..Germany..Favorite..Kaas..Vega..Eko Fresh..Ela..Badmómzjay..Marteria..Karen Firlej..Alies..Nessi..MOR..Tim Bendzko..Curse..Royce Da 5'9..Tre Little..SDP..

download >>> https://hearthis.at/otschen/kool-fuck-genres-i-like-essah/download

[bluemings]

👶 👶 👶 👶 👶

jisik

name suggestions: jihoon, eunsik physical features they took from my muse: la altura de jiho, por supuesto physical features they took from your muse: más que alguna apariencia física sacó los modismos de euisik, como arrugar su nariz cuando algo no le parece. which parent do they act more like?: actúa como jiho cuando no sabe manejar situaciones de estrés y se encierra en su habitación pero es muy cercano a sus raíces y a la familia, cosa que aprendió de euisik. my muse’s favourite memory with their child: cuando tenía cinco años se lo llevaron a japón, donde euisik creció. vieron el mar y pasaron unas semanas recorriendo todo el lugar guiados por el mismo euisik.

euillie

name suggestions: olivia, jade, lily physical features they took from my muse: los cachetitos de ollie, también su carita redonda y sonrisita physical features they took from your muse: los ojitos claros y cabello claro de eungi. which parent do they act more like?: definitivamente como eungi, es tímida y no tiene muchos amigos. ama viajar, ayuda en la tienda de vez en cuando y prefiere tener un buen amigo que muchos que no signifiquen nada. my muse’s favourite memory with their child: viajar a casa del padre de eungi los tres, donde jugaron hasta que se cansaron, rieron un montón y terminaros acurrucándose los tres en la cama de infancia de eungi. ollie terminó en el piso por elección propia, dándoles a los dos un besito en la frente antes de irse a dormir.

hogyul

name suggestions: heedo, minhee physical features they took from my muse: los ojitos de gatitos y la naricita de botoncito de gyul physical features they took from your muse: cabello naturalmente rizado y los ojos expresivos de hochul, también cuando sonríe tiene el mismo hoyuelo. which parent do they act more like?: como hochul. muy decida, segura de sí misma y quiere entrar en el negocio familiar de detectives. también tiene apariencia intimidante hasta que se le conoce, es un pan dulce que ama ser nerd de los videojuegos junto a gyul. my muse’s favourite memory with their child: probablemente el día que llegó a sus vidas, gyul no pensó en amar a nadie como ama a hochul y, sin embargo, la pequeña llegó a su relación como un rayo de sol que ilumina su vida. definitivamente, no pensó que alguna vez sería padre y apenas llegó la pequeña gyul supo que estaba listo para serlo y amarla con cada fibra de su ser.

pildam

name suggestions: minah, dohee physical features they took from my muse: el lunar debajo de su ojo, cachetes redondos y estructura facial ovalada. physical features they took from your muse: nariz alta, lunar en la mejilla en el mismo lugar que pilsuk y mismos ojitos. which parent do they act more like?: un poco más como dam, algo fría y bastante centrada con ambos pies sobre la tierra. usualmente es la que no se deja llevar por los demás, la que prefiere sonar cruel antes que idealizar una idea imposible de alcanzar. my muse’s favourite memory with their child: el día que decidió seguir los pasos de pilsuk y ser cantante, al principio consideró también tener vida en el mundo de la medicina pero el canto es su verdadera pasión. su memoria favorita es cuando pilsuk y ella cantaron juntos su primera canción en el piano, era temprano en la mañana y se despertó con la voz de los dos armonizando en una hermosa canción que no había sido sacada todavía al público general.

hamin

name suggestions: ryung, seungmin physical features they took from my muse: quisiera decir que la estatura y misma complexión muscular que hanbin. muscular pero no necesariamente en exceso, hacen una rutina de entrenamiento parecida. physical features they took from your muse: estructura facial, tono de voz suave y la misma sonrisa.which parent do they act more like?: creeeo que se parece más a jaemin en el sentido que quiere manejar los hoteles, no ha luchado tanto como la familia de jaemin pero sí ha escuchado historias al respecto. de hecho, está estudiando hospitalidad con especialización en hotelería para ser el futuro heredero de la cadena de hoteles. my muse’s favourite memory with their child: cuando estaban en estados unidos y jaemin se les perdió por un segundo, ninguno de los dos sabía inglés y tuvieron que llamar a jaemin por altavoz para que se comunicara con las personas a través de teléfono al mismo tiempo que los buscaba entre la multitud. un desastre, pero fue tan impredecible y estresante que después de reencontrarse estalló a carcajadas junto a su hijo.