#with 5 kids and neither of them are TIME WIZARDS

[mini-minish]

cr discourse (ish?) in the tags cause im sick and i need something to complain about that doesnt actually affect anything important in real life 💖

[mrsriddlenott]

The Third Day Of Smutmas

[smutmas masterlist] [main masterlist]

~ Family Christmas ~

dom!Mattheo x sub!Reader x dom!Theo

Summary: Theo brings you and Mattheo to his family’s Christmas dinner for the first time making you a nervous wreck, desperate to make a good impression. The boys notices your anxiety and decide to help you with your nerves in Theo’s bathroom before you eat with his family.

- voldy is dead, no 2nd wizarding war, no angsty death eater stuff for Christmas😤, Theo’s parents are mean, Mattheo calls Theo’s parents mom & dad for obvious reasons -

Warnings: 18+ Content!! d/s dynamics, praisekink, f!receiving oral, m!receiving handjob, body worship(?), kinda public, cumplay(barely)

When you were all at Hogwarts you never would have guessed where time would take you, you knew both the boys adored you back then but they rarely acted on it due to their shared respect for not only their friendship with each other but with you as well. They didn’t want your choice between them to break up your trio, so they chose for you, neither. When you stumbled back into their lives not even a full 5 years later however, they saw it to be fate. They were much more mature than before, and realized it wasn’t up to them to make such a decision for you.

Long before you were clouding their thoughts every day, they vowed to each other that they would never let anyone get between them, so instead you became a part of them. You loved them both equally and there was absolutely no way for you to choose. You knew your relationship wasn’t conventional by any means but you all loved each other more than you thought humanly possible. There was no separating you. It took a while for you all to become publicly official, only your closest of friends knew of your relationship for the longest time. Your first Christmas together was like a fairytale, Mattheo went above and beyond for all of you in your shared flat, excited to finally have something he could call his own.

This year however, Theo’s parents knew of your relationship, that you had taken their sons heart as well as the heart of the boy they viewed as a second son, and now expected you all for dinner on Christmas eve, so you were reasonably scared beyond explanation. Theo’s mother was never fond of you, even when you were basically just a kid invited over with the group during time away from school. You sensed she knew of her boys shared feelings for you long before they did, when they saw you as nothing more than their best friend. She noticed the shift it took when they started acting on those feelings and again when the two decided your future together laid in friendship only, she was overjoyed when Theo and Mattheo brought home girls that weren’t you and when they all inevitably stopped coming around, she always seemed to blame you. You could imagine her sheer disappointment when she learned of the seriousness of your relationship, and it sent a kick to your stomach every time.

The snow crunched beneath your heeled boots as you walked down the stone pathway approaching four steps leading to the door of the ominously large manor in front of you. The warmth of Theo’s comforting hand on your lower back held you down to earth as Mattheo stepped in front to get the door for you. Warmth and the smell of cooking food hit you immediately, what would feel like a welcoming embrace to anyone who wasn’t you.

“Mom we’re here,” Theo called, his voice echoing in the foyer as he removed your coat and showed you where you could put your shoes that were growing damp with melting snow that fell heavily outside. Taking Mattheo’s hand you let him lead you through the large, decorated hallway to an even larger, even more decorated dining room, “They go this overboard every year,” Theo chuckled in your ear, seeing your wide eyes reflect the scene in front of you. His lips grazed your neck and your body began to relax, he left featherlight kisses up and down the back of your neck while Mattheo stepped in front of you to drag a lock of your hair behind your ear before speaking, “It’s not half as beautiful as our girl though is it Teddy?”

“Not even a quarter,” He laughed behind you, you breathed in their scents, soothing yourself with their close proximity before it all came crashing down with an abrupt halt to the clicks of expensive heels on hardwood floors accompanied with a gasp that sent your heart plummeting.

“Have some decency would you Theodore,” Mrs.Nott hissed, sending you a look of disgust as your boyfriends separated from you to greet her, “Oh it’s nothing new Mom no need to freak out,” Mattheo stated as he hugged the thin woman with pursed lips that could rival Professor Mcgonagall, “You remember y/n don’t you?”

“Of course Dear, lets wait for dinner in the living room shall we?” Her shifty eyes avoided you as you began forming a hello, immediately turning away and toward another heavily decorated hallway. Theo’s jaw clenched as he and Mattheo made eye contact over your head before he was speaking in a curt voice, “Mom, y/n was trying to speak to you.” The woman’s steps faltered for a second before continuing to click down the hall, your hand shot up to Theo’s wrist as he began after her with scrunched brows, “Just leave it okay? We’ll have plenty of time to talk.”

Despite your attempts to hide it both boys could see your discomfort with the woman’s clear disdain for you, but decided against making a scene. They escorted you through to the lavish living room with both of your hands in their extended elbows. Mr.Nott was much nicer, patting the back of your hand in his while welcoming you back for the first time in years, and if you hadn’t caught is sideways glance to his wife when his son kissed you on the cheek, you may have actually believed it.

The room was tense and quiet, sitting across from Theo’s parents between him and Mattheo, each with an arm slung behind you that seemed to catch Mrs.Nott’s eyes more than any of her hundreds of decorations. “So…do you three have any funny stories from your Hogwarts days?,” Mr.Nott asked in an attempt to cut the tension knotting throughout the room. “I’m sure there’s something to share based on all those owls we got about your little group you had back in the day.” He laughed to himself, bringing his small glass of bourbon to his lips awkwardly.

“We’d give Mom a heart attack if we listed off our great adventures,” Mattheo joked, laughing as you and Theo joined in before it died down almost as soon as it started, “Well at least remind me of their names again, erm there was Lucius’ boy and that one nice boy that always helped your mother out around the house over summer,” The man snapped his fingers as he tried to put a name to the face he was imagining, ignoring the laughing of his boys.

“Enzo was not nice Dad, you just think he was because he wanted you to. He was just as much as a trouble maker as the rest of us, just smart enough not to get caught is all,” The two laughing beside you had a much needed smile growing on your lips, thinking of the old days with your large group of friends that grew simply because of circumstance helped to ease the tension of the night and you were finally able to think this wasnt such a bad idea.

“Remember that Pansy girl you were always bringing around during that time Matt, she was lovely wasn’t she….but she stopped coming with the rest of you lot….” Her eyes darted to you as she spoke, “Whatever happened to her?” Your chest hurt, your stomach seeming to meld with it as the room suddenly went silent. You knew Mrs.Nott was never fan of you but you never would have expected her to bring up your boyfriend’s ex at a dinner meant for getting to know you better.

“She cheated on me Mom,” Mattheo responded with an unmistakable bite to his voice, “y’know what they say, can’t judge a book by it’s cover,” He huffed, looking to you with a clenched jaw and apologetic eyes as Mrs.Nott cringed while her eyes darted between you and her boys, seemingly looking for anything else to comment on as a distraction to her rudeness.

“Well you know we fully support whatever experimenting you need to do before settling down,” Mr.Nott cut in, knocking the wind from your lungs as though you were just smacked into. Your eyes darted from person to person, all eyes were on someone else as the tension began to bubble over, you felt invisible, hurt, discredited. Too many thoughts and feelings swirled through you as the room remained eerily silent.

“We have settled down Dad….for fucks sake we’ve lived together for over a year,” Theo snapped, teeth gritted, creaking together while his fingers flexed and un-flexed in anger beside your head as he forced himself to remain seated despite his fathers words. Your chest pounded as your ears began to ring, your breathing was shallow and your palms were growing damp with sweat. Were they experimenting?

“I’m just saying that this isn’t natural,” His fathers voice that was eerily similar to Theo’s rang in your head louder than your own voice, “A female mind only wants one mate. It’s science, eventually she’ll want children and one of you will be chosen to father them, one of you will get hurt and that will be that unless you get out of it,” Mr.Nott leaned back against his leather couch with a smug face, taking another sip of his drink as though he had it all solved.

“Loving them is the most natural thing I have ever done, and maybe don’t talk about her like she’s not literally right here,” Theo shouted at his father, pushing forward toward him and using his hand to gesture towards you beside him, “I know you’re not that stupid Dad a “female mind” can choose what she wants for herself and she’s chosen both of us okay?” Theo sighed, he seemed hurt by his parents inability to accept you, “and when the day comes that she wants us to we will both father her children,” Theo’s eyes were rolling before his father could even start speaking again, “You act like we haven’t thought this out, we’ve had all the hard conversations already and when more come up we’ll have those too.”

Mr. Nott was stunned at his sons outburst, taking a second to ground himself before speaking again in a lower voice as though you were a child he was hiding the truth about Santa Clause from, “Son….can’t you see what this is….you’re two very attractive and well off men she-“

“I don’t think you should finish that sentence if you want us to stay for dinner….” Theo’s jaw was clenched as his stern, demanding eyes dug into his fathers identical irises.

“I think I’m just gonna go clean myself up before we eat.” You willed yourself to keep your tears hidden, pushing up from your spot and quickly making your way to the bathroom right down the hall you entered through, shutting the door as quickly and quietly as possible before letting your tears fall. It was ridiculous to question and deep down you knew it, but your mind raced with questions of if they really wanted you or if you were some fantasy or experiment.

The thick door behind you clicked open before shutting with a thud seconds later, the sound of your crying flooded the room as the two boys behind you remained silent, “May-maybe they’re right….I mean what if you guys realize too late you would be happier with two separate girlfriends.” Mattheo scoffed with a roll of his eyes, grabbing your shoulders firmly and spinning you to look at them both.

“You, y/f/n, are the only girl we want and you have been since we were 15 years old. They’re just gonna have to come around, okay?” You nodded your head weakly, tears still slowly falling down your cheeks before Theo’s rough hand was grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

“Looks like someone needs a reminder of who she belongs to, don’t you agree Matty?” Theo’s dead eyes bore into you as you whimpered, “You think we’d toss you aside for someone else huh?” Theo scoffed out a laugh before continuing, “You’re stuck with us Baby….Muffliato.”

Theo’s lips meet yours for only a second before he moves back to grip your hips in his large hands, yanking you up to sit on the oversized counter in a flash. His lips met the left side of your neck as Mattheo’s comforting hand ran through your hair, his eyes meeting yours before he was leaning forward to leave kisses up and down the right side of your neck. Your hands trailed up their biceps and around their shoulders, tugging them impossibly closer to you as Mattheo’s hand began to sneak across your right thigh, squeezing and molding the flesh with his hand while slowly moving your dress up, bunching it higher until it sat above the hem of your panties.

“We’re the only ones that will ever get to have these thighs,” Theo whispered against your neck, his aggressive hand now occupying your left thigh with a possessive grip as Mattheo’s lips separated from your neck, taking a second to watch your eyes before aggressively tugging your dress up your torso and over your head, revealing your naked chest and hardened nipples to them both. Waisting no time in diving into your chest, he begab sucking and biting at every section of flesh he could, marking you as theirs for anyone who would happen to glance at your body.

“We’re the only ones that will ever get to have these tits,” Mattheo sighed, taking your nipple between his teeth with a tug, making you whimper and whine before he was nursing the red bud with a swirl of his tongue. Theo’s possessive hand snaked it’s way all the way up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine as he started tugging at the edge of your underwear expectantly. You finally let moans slip past your lips when Theo’s tongue trailed up your neck at the same time Mattheo nibbled at your chest before dropping to his knees to trail kisses, nibbles and licks down your stomach.

“There’s our girl, now tell me what you fucking want before I tell Matty to stop what he’s doing.” Theo growled beside your ear, waiting for your response as Mattheo left open mouth kisses over your belly button, falling farther down every once in a while just to return to their original spot teasingly. Theo’s lips found your neck again, as if solely to distract you from forming your sentence, trailing their way up and down slowly as Mattheo’s teased your underwear, pulling at the elastic with his teeth and letting it snap back on you, forcing out whimper of a please.

“Please what Baby?” Theo’s warm breath on your neck mixed with Mattheo’s on your lower stomach and thighs had you on cloud nine, begging for them to do something, anything to you, “Show me that I’m yours and you’re mine,” Your voice was barley above a whisper as you pleaded to your boyfriends who almost immediately worked together to shred you lace underwear.

“Fuck I wanna kiss every inch of your body,” Mattheo whispers, standing as Theo takes his place kneeling before you and smashing his lips into yours passionately. His hands held your face against his while your lips melded together as his tongue danced against yours, swallowing your moans and gasps when Theo’s tongue glides through your folds. The tip of the strong muscle worked expertly against the bundle of nerves, sending jolts of pleasure through your whole body as you subconsciously began to grind against his face and tongue while losing the focus needed to kiss Mattheo.

You could feel the outline of Mattheo’s hard dick against your side as he leaned in to nip and kiss down your neck, urging you to let your fumbling hand trail it’s way to his belt buckle slowly, giving him plenty of time to deny you before quickly tugging it apart and tossing it aside with a clank of metal. Mattheo groans as your warm hand slips under the waistline of his jeans, palming him lightly before shoving both his boxers and jeans down his thighs impatiently. Tugging him in your hand as he moaned loudly in your ear, “Fuck Princess, I love your hands,”

You giggle at his confession before being interrupted by a particularly loud moan as Theo pushed his tongue inside of you, groaning against you and sending vibrations up your body. He smacked at your thigh to gain your focus, earning a yelp of a moan as your shining eyes looked down to him, seeing those deep, dead, jealous eyes staring up at you as he worked his tongue inside you was almost enough to send you over the edge alone. His bruising grip on your thighs as he held them apart to make room for his head had you spiraling as your brain fogged. You slowly pumped Mattheo, lathering your hand in his precum as you started matching your pace with the thrusts of Theo’s tongue inside of you.

“You’re doing so good for us Princess,” Mattheo’s deep voice echoed off the walls accompanied by his pants and whines that egged on your own, the slurping sounds coming from between your thighs was driving you insane as the tension in you lower stomach began to grow. You grind yourself against Theo’s nose, wishing more than anything to have friction against your clit. It’s not long before he brings the pad of his thumb to rub fast, small circles against the bundle of nerves, making you jolt forward on the counter with a scream of a moan. Your hand speeds up on Mattheo’s dick, feeling each groove and vein of him as his hips drove him further into you, moaning messily with his eyes screwed shut, his hand firmly grabbing the counter beside you for support as you followed beads of sweat that dripped down his bicep with your eyes.

Mattheo’s hips began to falter and stutter as your hand tightened around him, your head falling back against the mirror with a thud, moaning carelessly as Theo’s fingers and tongue worked together faster to push you up and over the edge, sending you into a euphoric state of pure bliss as your legs shook and the thrusts of your hand became erratic. Mattheo’s high was fast approaching behind yours, feeling your fingers tighten around him uncontrollably as your tried to ground yourself had his head falling back with his mouth opened in a silent moan as large spurts of his cum painted your stomach and chest, dripping down in enticing trails.

“Fuck that’s insanely hot,” Mattheo’s voice was jumbled in your ears, your chest pounded blocking out most sounds as Theo stood from your dripping, aching core with a smile before wiping his mouth clean. You felt Mattheo’s fingers on you as he began spreading his cum around your stomach, mesmerized by the look of it on your skin, “You did so fucking good Baby,” He whispered, eyes still trained on the mess on your body, “Looks so pretty covered in my cum doesn’t she Teddy?”

“Fuck yes she does,” The taller boy responded, laughing with Mattheo at your weak state as he grabbed a rag to wipe it from you as your muscles slowly regained the ability to function. Theo helped steady you on your feet as Mattheo straightened out your dress, guiding you to put your hands up so he could tug it down your body. Theo worked to fix your hair as Mattheo left kiss down your neck before Theo spun you around to capture your lips in his, pressing his rock hard dick against you in the process and making you pull away quickly with a squeak.

“What about you Teddy?” You asked, genuinely concerned as you pouted up to him with concerned while Mattheo tugged his pants up, panting and running a hand through his sweaty curls, “Don’t you want something in return?” Theo chuckled down to you, grabbing your chin and smashing his lips into yours in a heated kiss that left a trail of spit connecting you as he backed away.

“I’m okay for now Gorgeous, this was about you, we would have done absolutely anything to help ease your nerves,” Theo chuckled, staring into your eyes as though you were a piece of art meant to be in a museum, “Besides, Matty can always drive home and give us some time in that spacious back seat yeah?” He laughed, looking to Mattheo who shrugged as he slid his belt through it’s loops stating a simple, “I don’t mind,” before you all made sure you looked presentable before slipping out the door and back to the hell that was this dinner.

~~~~

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[spacebarbarianweird]

Baby Fangs

Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is severely sick, and Astarion is afraid his daughter is going to die.

Tags: hurt/comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs

Alethaine's age: 5 month

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion has never been so afraid in his life.

Not when he was dying in the streets of Baldur’s Gate. Not when he thought Tiriel had gone. Not when Cazador had inflicted tortures on him.

It just can’t compare to the fear of losing a child.

“She needs to make it till morning,” the healer says. “If she is alive by sunrise, she will get better.”

“But can we do anything?” Tiriel looks as if she is going to fight. “There are healing spells, potions, anything!”

“And most of them aren’t fit for a five month old child. Astarion, Tiriel, I give you my word. I’ve done everything I can. There are probably some clerics and wizards who can heal your child immediately but none of them live in Daggerlake. I am sorry.”

The healer walks away, leaving a dreadful silence in the house.

Astarion sits on the bed, clasping his hands together. Of course, things couldn't be this good. Of course something had to go wrong! How could he have been foolish enough to believe that things could be good for him?

His little daughter, Alethaine, is such a miracle, such a gift. When he first held her in his arms, he dared to hope that everything would be all right from then on. And now they tell him she's dying? That she would be dead by morning?

Alethaine whimpers weakly. She is already too tired to cry.

Tiriel looks terrible. She is a warrior, a fighter, but for the first time in her life, she has no enemy to kill. The enemy is her daughter's fever, and she can't beat it the way she beats monsters.

The baby starts coughing.

Astarion doesn't need to be a vampire to feel his daughter's pain. Her muscles are too tense. Her breathing is ragged and her heartbeat is too weak. Alethaine is suffering at this very moment, and there is nothing her parents can do about it.

Can’t give her medicine. Can’t soothe her pain.

There is a grip of death around her tiny heart and neither Tiriel nor Astarion can unclench it.

Tiriel sits on the bed, cradling Alethaine in her arms. Astarion wraps his hands around them.

“So what do we do?” he asks.

“We wait,” she answers. Her voice sounds exhausted.

He nods.

Yesterday, Alethaine was perfectly healthy. She tried to sit up, but each time her head proved too heavy and she fell on her back. Then her black eyes clouded over and a fever rose. She refused to eat and only cried like a wounded animal.

“What if she doesn’t make it?” Astarion asks.

Tiriel doesn't answer and he sees tears flowing down her cheek. “We will keep living. Could you please bring a blanket?”

Astarion reluctantly lets them go and picks up a thick fur blanket from the floor. Then they sit together with their backs against the wall, covering their sick daughter with the blanket. Only a desperate cough echoes through the room.

Children die all the time. Mostly little kids like Alethaine. Daggerlake isn't a very big town, but Astarion knows that at least three babies have died this year. From disease. Small children like this are too vulnerable. It happens all the time.

There's a chance that tomorrow Astarion will have to dig a grave and put a tiny bundle in there that never had a chance to grow up.

It's so unfair that it makes Astarion want to howl.

"Astarion," Tiriel touches his curls. "Let's talk. The silence is killing me."

“What do you want to talk about, my sweet?”

“I don't know… Anything.” Tiriel places the girl in his hands and Astarion flinches sensing the heat of Alethaine’s body. Fever. A terrible killing fever. “Do you think she is a dhampir?”

“She is an elf like I was before I died.”

When Tiriel was pregnant, he read as much as possible about dhampirs. Deadly and fast, half-vampires don’t need blood and can live in the sun. But they have vampiric strength, can walk on ceilings, and regenerate much faster than mortals. No wonder vampires are often jealous of their children.

But at the same time, the life of a dhampir is full of hardships. Neither a vampire, nor a mortal, they are doomed to be alone. Once they feel bloodlust for the first time and fangs replace the canines, they are outcasts often disowned by their own mortal families.

But does it have to be like that? Astarion has been fighting the odds against his vampiric nature for the last twenty years. Why can’t his daughter?

But Astarion is afraid they will never learn the answer to either of their questions. Alethaine opens her mouth and makes a deep breath as if suffocating. Something doesn’t allow her to breathe and she makes hissing sounds. Her little eyes are watery - by this time she can only cry.

So can her parents.

“I wouldn’t want to, I think,” Tiriel says. “If she is dhampir it means she is alone. Even if other spawns have children too, what is the chance she will ever meet them?”

Astarion kisses Tiriel’s cheek. if Alethaine dies, they bury her and leave. Daggerlake is a welcoming town but it will be a place of sorrow for them.

Tiriel adjusts herself a bit.

“Fuck” she mutters. Astarion immediately smells the blood. Tiriel’s thumb is bleeding. “A fucking splinter.”

Alethaine cries at the top of her lungs.

Astarion stares at his daughter with shock. She screams with the strength they didn’t know she posseses. It’s desperate. Angry.

Demanding.

This moment she doesn’t sound like a child. She sounds like a little beast.

Before Astarion makes up any coherent thought, Tiriel puts her bleeding thumb to Alethaine’s lips, making the blood pour into her mouth.

“Tiriel, what are you doing?”

Tiriel doesn’t answer. The girl makes sucking movements as her mother squeezes drops of blood from her finger.

And then her dark eyes turn red.

They glow in the half-lit room like two tiny lights.

Tiriel puts her fingers away and Alethaine makes a disgruntled sound. Her elven ears twitch.

The eyes stop glowing so intensely and return to their natural black color.

And then Alethaine laughs.

She is kicking her legs and stretching her arms to her parents.

The girl is happy. Happy like a well-fed vampire.

“Astarion, look at her gums.”

Two baby fangs. Very small, almost kitten-like.

“It wasn’t a fever,” Astarion mutters. “It was a bloodlust.”

Of course… If she was older she would just try to get blood from somewhere.

But when you are five months old you can’t do a lot of things.

Poor girl, how she suffered those two days.

Is dhampir bloodlust the same as vampiric? Was she feeling her stomach being ripped apart, her throat hurting and bleeding? Maybe it was even worse for her? Maybe her mortal nature was fighting the bloodthirsty monster, causing Alethaine to cry in pain?

Helpless baby alone with her pain and fear while her parents didn't think of the most obvious explanation.

** Astarion sits at the doorstep with a plushie doll in his hands. The toy has white hair and elven ears, and now Astarion is stitching small fangs to its mouth.

The tears prickle his eyes.

He’s condemned his child for a life of hardships. For loneliness, for constant war against herself. If someday Alethaine shows up at his doorstep blaming him for all her tragedies, he will not even try to defend himself.

“No, kitten, I don’t care if you don’t like it! I can’t breastfeed you anymore and I am not giving you any blood! You eat normal food!” He hears Tiriel’s voice from inside the house.

Alethaine isn’t going to comply easily.

Then he hears footsteps from behind.

“What are you doing?” Tiriel asks.

“Adding fangs to her toy.”

Tiriel sits beside him.

“You have mash in your hair.” Astarion notices

“I know. You should see the other girl. How do you feel about giving her a bath?”

“I don't think you should ask. It’s my child. It seems like… even more mine now.”

“Hey, don't be upset. We knew it was possible.”

“I just… Her eyes, Tiriel, you saw them.They were like theirs… My siblings…Cazador… the same fucking glowing eyes as if she was a vampire, too!”

“It’s because of blood. She doesn’t have to drink it, she can eat normal food.”

“We should have found the cure before making a child.”

“But we didn’t find any.”

Tiriel takes a wet piece of rag and wipes her hair. “Astarion, I am going to talk to you seriously and, please, pay attention to every word I say.”

“I am all pointy ears, my love.”

“I was beaten and humiliated daily for who I was. My family didn't even give me a name because they despised me. But when I met elves for the first time they called me “garbage” - Biir. Half-something, half a person. Half elves aren't uncommon. There are surprisingly many in big cities. But I’ve been taught to despise my body, to hate my ears, to be embarrassed of my own existence. And our daughter is a dhampir. And I am sure there aren’t many like her. This world will have a thousand opportunities to shove her differences up to her nose. This world will teach Alethaine to hate herself. I can guarantee you she will try to pull her fangs out or maybe will ask someone to knock them out. She will cover herself not to let people see how pale she truly is. And we must not be a part of her problems.”

“Tiriel, I would never - “

“She is a girl, Astarion. Her image of herself will be formed mostly by you, not by me. The way you will perceive her will be the way she will see herself. And if she sees resentment, if she senses your sorrows that she isn’t a normal child, she will start hating herself. She will feel it. And it will stay with her till her long days are over.”

“Tiriel, what exactly in my behavior tells you that I am going to mistreat her? She is my child! She is…”

“I didn’t mean to ignore the fact she is a dhampir. You must cherish her differences. We must love her for being a dhampir. We must form this idea that it’s good she is a dhampir.”

Astarion chuckles. To be honest, he has never accepted his vampirism. It happened against his will and he would give anything to get rid of it. It is a curse. And now… his daughter is cursed as well.

“Astarion, this is important. Even the tiniest things will affect her. And we will have to deal with the consequences.”

The girl cries for her parents, and Tiriel, planting a kiss on Astarion’s forehead, returns inside.

Several hours later, when a washed and clean-clothed Alethaine is happily lying on her parents' bed and trying to make some coherent movements, Astarion finally finds enough moral strength to accept the reality.

He takes his daughter in his arms and walks up to the ceiling. The girl laughs and tries to bite him.

"Aren't you the cutest dhampir in Faerûn?" he mutters. "I can't wait to teach you how to use those fangs in battle. You will be deadly, my princess! But don't bite your mother, that's my prerogative."

--

Tag list

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[harmonictechnicality]

Memory Log: Day 52

part 1 here | part 2 here | part 3 here | part 5 here | part 6 here (ao3 link here)

After seeing his ink-smeared biography all over Eddie Munson’s arm, Steve becomes extremely motivated. Obsessed, even.

He assembles a makeshift army. Eddie’s Memory Soldiers, he calls it. Okay - he doesn’t call it that out loud, only to himself (because even Steve is self-aware enough to know how deranged this all sounds).

Steve compiles a ragtag group of Eddie’s friends to nudge his brain along faster. Band mates, theater dweebs, potheads that can carry a tune. All of them bring mixtapes on their visits. After two weekends, there’s already a fuckload of thrashy melodies for Eddie to choose from.

He lets them take the reins on this music-healing plan because there’s no fucking way Steve will be helpful in that department. It means less visits that include his presence, which sort of sucks, but it’s worth it. Worth it to get Eddie back to where he used to be.

Before Steve heads out for one of his morning visits, Robin interrogates him. Asks him the question he’s been ignoring for weeks.

“Steve… not to sound harsh, but why do you care so much?” 

Yeah. Why does he care so much? 

She quickly follows it up with, “I just didn’t know you two were friends now. So I’m just curious, I guess.”

They’re not friends. They’re lukewarm tolerators - tethered together by monster hunting and Dustin Henderson.

They’ve flirted, sure. But who doesn’t? Steve would flirt with half of the leggy cartoon characters that appear on Saturday Mornings if he could. So that’s a weak argument to assume they’re more than just friends. Tolerators. Whatever.

So he lies. To Robin. To himself. Lies so much that it sits in his stomach like motion sickness.

He answers the exact same way he’s been answering since day one:

“I’m just doing this for the kids, Robs.”

He’s pretty sure neither of them are buying that statement. He tries again. Stamps the words onto his confused brain. Considers writing them on his arm just like Eddie might do.

“I’m doing it for them.”

Eddie is always on his Walkman (Steve’s Walkman) now that he has skyscraper of cassettes on his desk. Pretty much every time Steve returns, Eddie is head banging. Won’t stop until the nurses scold him.

Or Steve. He’ll stop if Steve scolds him too.

“You can’t keep jostling up your brain, Munson.” Steve whips the headphones off of Eddie’s ears. “Gonna undo all of our hard work.”

“Our hard work?” Eddie attempts to grab the headphones back. Gives up as soon as their hands make contact. “And who might be included in this our that you speak of?”

“You know…” Me. “The doctors and nurses and your friends.”

“Right.”

This is how things have been going lately. Eddie teases him mercilessly and Steve bats it all away. Doesn’t encourage it for a second.

Which blows so hard because he wants to flirt back. Steve wants to know what Eddie feels like beyond tubes and bandages and hospital gowns. He wants way too much after watching Eddie fall asleep smiling that night. After finding out that Eddie scams his own mind into remembering Steve in technicolor details every day.

But it feels wrong. Deep down, there’s this part of Steve that worries that Eddie only likes the scribbled notes, the good qualities of himself. The non-prickster qualities.

He doesn’t scribble the bad qualities on his arm. Eddie lets himself forget about those every night. 

So it seems wrong. Unfair to let Eddie only remember the good parts of him and take advantage of his weak mind.

Life was a fucking breeze before Steve cared about not taking advantage of people. Shit, he used the world’s biggest advantage-taker before all of this evil wizard nonsense.

“Quiz me, Harrington.” Eddie insists.

So Steve does. Steve goes down the list of questions. Things that Eddie’s memory typically hesitates to recognize. 

Music helps Eddie remember his childhood memories the best.

That’s the biggest discovery they’ve made over the last fourteen days. Tapes that include songs from the early to mid 70’s have the biggest mental impact on his memory skills. Every day, he recalls more moments from his past.

Winter birthday parties. Recess and tire swings. Nineteen chickenpox. A pet hamster named Sterling.

“Can’t believe Wayne trusted you with a living creature.” Steve sneers.

“Never said he did.”

He always gets fuzzy with stuff from the late 70s though. And the early 80s is just a jumbled-up shit show. That’s when Eddie really starts failing his quiz.

“What year did you get the tattoo on your chest?”

“You mean this one?” Eddie pulls down the wrinkly hospital gown, exposing way too much of his collarbone. “Or this one?” He pulls the fabric down even further.

They must’ve finally turned the heat on in this place. Or maybe Steve’s sweater is just extra itchy, scratching his skin all splotchy red. He rubs furiously at the collar, spreads the flush all over by accident. 

His eyes dart up to the fluorescent lights. Away from Eddie’s chest. “Um… the… creepy guy.”

“You’ll sprain your neck looking up like that.”

“Good thing I’m in a hospital then.”

“Okay - seriously, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure.” Eddie snorts. His heart monitor beeps faster. Steve hates that laughing must be a bit painful for him. “And he’s not some creepy guy. He’s a creepy demon. Please respect the body art and get your facts right.”

“Fine.”

Not flirting back makes Steve feel like he could break out into hives. He has a fucking stockpile of pickup lines. He hoards provocative catchphrases like a horny pack rat. Talking is becoming increasingly difficult when he can’t banter back the way he wants to.

“Don’t remember what year I got it.” Eddie admits. “Sorry.”

Steve pulls his focus away from the ceiling and scribbles that down:

Eddie still can’t remember when he got his tattoos.

“Gee mister,” Eddie imitates a very masculine Shirley Temple voice. “Am I failing the pop quiz already?”

Eddie remembers who Shirley Temple is (weird, but okay).

Eddie does a really shitty impression of Shirley Temple.

Steve just keeps writing. Not even writing words anymore, just moving the pen to stay focused. Stay distracted from flirting.

The energy starts to feel swampy and stiff as he continues to give short responses with lifeless enthusiasm. Steve can tell that Eddie is picking up on the weirdness too. 

He’s so fidgety. Drumming his fingers, twisting the one ring he’s allowed to wear on one of his less busted fingers. Bobbing his knees and kicking off his blankets. 

Eventually, Eddie puts his (Steve’s) headphones back on and closes his eyes. A nonverbal surrender. A borrowed Walkman instead of a white flag. Why does it feel so shitty to see that he is just as defeated as Steve?

Once Eddie is asleep, Steve peaks over at his arms.

The notes are still there. Fading, but there.

It shouldn’t jab him in the heart the way that it does every time he checks, but christ. It’s so fucked up.

Slowly but surely, Eddie is gaining pieces of his past, but never his present. Why the fuck is that? Steve is so selfishly pissed about that because he’s a main role in Eddie’s present life. 

He’s the one that’s here most days. He’s the one that listens to Eddie’s rants and incessant complaints. He’s the one that calls the nurses when Eddie is too prideful to admit when he’s in pain.

Steve should be remembered without smudgey reminders and foggy recollections.

Steve should be un-fucking-forgettable.

After an unhealthy amount of moping, he comes up with an idea. Well, Dustin comes up with an idea, actually. Steve bribed him with nougat and R-rated movie rentals to construct a gameplan.

“And you need Eddie to remember your favorite sweater…why?” Dustin’s mouth is full of chewy candy as he asks.

Steve chucks a raisinette at his dumb hat. “I thought we agreed this was a no questions asked request.”

“You suggested that.” Dustin points at Steve. “I never agreed to it though.”

This is the part Steve despises. If he admits it to others, he has to admit it to himself. And while he’s come a long way since that first day with Eddie, he’s not there yet. His pride can only take so much vulnerability before it fractures completely. “Just… I’m testing a theory I have on his newest memories.”

“Right. And what theory would that be?”

That he thinks about me in kissable ways. “That he remembers more than he gives himself credit for.”

Dustin chugs back his soda and scrunches the can in his grasp. “Okay. Well, the mixtape theory is working decently well with older memories, right?

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“So maybe it can work with newer memories too.”

Steve is lost already. “Meaning?”

“Find songs that relate to you.” Dustin shrugs like duh. He must sense Steve’s hesitation, so he sputters back into his brainy explanation. “Think about it: you’re there all the time -”

“Not all the time, but -”

“Shut the hell up. You’re there all the time, so he must remember the essence of Steve Harrington.”

Steve fake gags. “Don’t say essence, that’s fucking gross.”

“Will you stop interrupting? Jesus christ.” Dustin yells, scrunching the soda can even more with his irritation. “Just make a mixtape with stuff that relates to you. Get his current memories to stick with lyrics and shit.”

Steve twists his mouth to one side. Then the other. “That’s…”

“Genius?”

“I was gonna say worth a shot, but sure.” Steve agrees. “We’ll go with your conceited analysis.”

Dustin finally picks up the raisinette from earlier. Throws it back at Steve. “You should be nicer to me. I possibly just solved your dilemma.”

“I should be nicer to you?” Steve tosses the raisinette into his mouth, despite its questionable duration on the floor. “Dude, you’re never nice to me.”

“Yeah, but it’s affectionate hostility.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Fine.” Steve rolls eyes, offers a hand to Dustin. “Thank you for the hostile affection.”

Dustin accepts the handshake. He’s overly smug about it too. “You’re very welcome.”

Memory Log: Day 53

Right away, Steve determines it’s a Kathy Day. Eddie is a verbal nightmare already, whining about the dead batteries in his tv remote.

“I’ll get Sam to grab some batteries when her shift starts.” Steve reassures the bitchy entity possessing Eddie Munson’s body at the moment.

“Why don’t you just get the damn batteries?” Eddie bites back. “You have legs, don’t you?”

“You have eyes, don’t you? Of course, I have fucking legs.” Steve can play it this game. Doesn’t want to but he can be just as obnoxious if Eddie keeps going with his attitude. “Please don’t pull this Kathy shit today.”

That simultaneously shuts them both up for a while. Steve begins flipping through one of the outdated magazines on Eddie’s desk, avoiding the escalated atmosphere. At this rate, there’s no fucking way Steve is going to bring up his mixtape. Kathy/Eddie will probably smash it. Roll over it with the wheels on his imprisoning hospital bed.

Eddie clears his throat, speaking softer than he did at Steve’s arrival. “You know… you were sort of a Kathy yourself yesterday.”

Eddie remembers Steve’s weird mood from the day before (needs to check Eddie’s arm notes to make sure he didn’t write that down).

“Yeah well… I’m allowed to be the pissy one sometimes.” Steve doesn’t look up. He just keeps pretending to read the fossilized magazine in his hand.

“Whatever you say, Harrington.” There’s another pause. Just as awkward as the last one. Their dynamics today are clashing harder than their music styles. Eddie breaks through the awkwardness once again. “So… what’s on the brain agenda today?”

Eddie remembers their pop quizzes.

Right. The quiz. The quiz that Steve has no intention of administering today because he’s supposed to give Eddie this stupid mixtape. 

And look, Steve is pretty good at avoiding shit - homework and phone calls and extended family members. He’s good at dodging shit too, like the relentless one-night stands that can never seem to take a goddamn hint.

But this situation is different because Steve would clearly like to avoid the potential weirdness of giving Eddie Munson a gift. However, he’s innately aware that this particular gift could be helpful. Maybe more to himself than to Eddie, but who knows? If Eddie gets his memory tank back on track and Steve gets someone that reciprocates his affections? 

The payoff might be worth the weirdness.

“I actually wanted to contribute to your…” Steve gestures apathetically at the stack of tapes.

Eddie looks over at them and then back to Steve. “Oh you mean, Munsonopolis?”

“Boooo.” Steve heckles him immediately for that.

“You think of something better then.”

Steve thinks about this way too hard. “The Ed-pire State Building.”

“Boooo.” Eddie imitates Steve’s heckling.

“Better than yours.”

“Says who?”

“Says anyone with a sense of humor.”

“Brave of you to call that a sense of humor.”

“What can I say?” Steve clicks his mouth twice and does the most douchey finger-gun bit, blowing out the nonexistent smoke from each index finger. “I’m something else.”

Eddie bites down over his lip, hard enough that it goes white for a second. Doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve while he bares down.

“You sure are, Steve.”

Oh shit - did they just mindlessly segue onto Flirtation Boulevard without even trying? Is it really that natural with Eddie? Damnit, Steve needs to get his mind on the task at hand.

“Here.” He walks over, lays the tape on Eddie’s lap.

“Is this another one from Gareth?” Eddie flips the tape over, studies the back. “Cause I already assured him that I remember the concert we went to back in ‘84.”

Eddie remembers one of his closest friends.

“No, this one is actually…” Just fucking own up, Steve. “Well, I made it.”

Eddie’s eyes do that sequin thing again. Almost turn into disco balls. “You made me a mixtape?”

Ugh. “Don’t get too flattered, Munson.” 

“Too late.”

Steve was afraid that might be the case. So he does his damndest to channel Dustin Henderson. Provide a scientific explanation to his crush-driven theory. “It’s just an extension of our little music experiment. Some stuff that will help you remember me.”

“And why exactly do you want me to remember you?” Eddie does the same lip biting thing from before. He bites harder, and the color stays white even longer this time.

Steve involuntarily glances down at Eddie’s arm, giving himself away.

“Oh.” Eddie stops biting his lip, swiftly lifts the blankets over his arms. Hiding what Steve already knows is there. “Look… that’s just -”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, really.”

Eddie looks down, nodding in agreement. “Right. But it’s not-”

“Eddie.” Steve places a firm hand on Eddie’s shoulder because he can’t. He can’t listen to whatever Eddie is about to confirm or deny. “It’s okay. I mean it.”

He’s not ready for it, for whatever barricade that’s between them to come crashing down. Steve didn’t bring the proper tools to shield himself from raw emotions or desperate declarations of true feelings. And from the way Eddie goes breathless and tense under Steve’s shoulder-grip, he doesn’t think Eddie has the proper tools for that either.

“So you uh…” Eddie peers down at Steve’s hand. Catches a glimpse then abruptly looks away again. “Do you want me to listen now or…”

God no. Steve releases his grip at that thought. “Wait till I leave.” 

“Got it.”

The rest of the visit goes both fairly smoothly. There are only a few lingering particles of awkward tension left behind. It doesn’t bother Steve, not necessarily. The whole day has been kind of all over the place, just like Eddie’s Literary Behavioral Scale. So this uneasy atmosphere is to be expected.

They talk about movies while Steve packs up his things to leave. Eddie asks about all the new movies that have come out since he’s been in the hospital. Steve tells him to make a list of the ones he’s interested in seeing. Tells him that they’ll have a marathon at his place once they’re released to vhs. Eddie says he knows a guy that sells bootlegs before the vhs release date, but Steve shoots that idea down so fucking fast.

It’s not their usual banter, but that’s okay. At least they're talking. Getting along. Tolerating one another at a lukewarm temperature again.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve is met with the most anxiety-ridden face. Eddie’s whole forehead is covered in wrinkles, like that one fancy dog breed that his next-door neighbor used to have. There’s no shimmer in Eddie’s eyes, no disco balls. It’s all just dull. Fearful.

“Sorry if the arm thing made you...” Eddie trips over his words. He pinches the skin between his eyes, makes his even more forehead wrinkles. “I don’t know what’s the word I’m looking for.. Uncomfortable, I guess.”

“Don’t worry. It didn’t.” It made Steve a lot of other things: gutted, determined, confused, sulky, smitten. But no. Worried did not make Steve’s grocery list of Feelings.

“Don’t forget to tell Sam about the batteries on your way out.”

Eddie remembers bitching about the batteries.

Yeah, Steve’s memory isn’t the faulty one here. Even so, Steve reassures him:

“I won’t forget, Eds.”

Day 56:

Wayne had a couple days off from work and took over Steve’s Wednesday and Thursday shifts in the hospital. It’s probably for the best - especially since Steve decided to do the most high school shit ever, and gift Eddie a fucking bouquet in the form of radio hits and plastic.

He’s breaking out from the stress, just marinating on what Eddie’s thoughts might be of the mixtape. It can’t be good. None of the songs are his typical riffs of eternal damnation or whatever. But it certainly sounds like Steve Harrington in a Speaker. So it better help him picture Steve dressed in the tackiest, most burnable sweaters imaginable, goddamnit.

But like, why is he breaking out from thinking about Eddie Munson? Absurd. All of it. The feelings and the acne. His weird little crush is making him regress into adolescent woes and it’s pissing him off.

After popping the zit and crossing his fingers that it’s not outrageously noticeable, Steve sucks in a deep breath, and heads into Eddie’s hospital room.

“There’s my favorite Material Girl.” Eddie lowers the headphones, smiles bonus-level wide.

Steve’s gulps. His face feels like a fucking toaster. “I take it you listened to the tape?”

“I didn’t just listen to the tape.” Eddie picks up the Walkman and smacks it against the side of his head. “I practically absorbed that bubblegum bullshit. Think some of it is still stuck in my teeth.”

Steve plays along, hoping that his face will return to its usual complexion. “You should see a dentist about that.”

“With what insurance?”

“That’s fair.” Steve slides his hands into his jean pockets. He’s so rigid. “So?”

“So?”

“Final conclusion?”

“Oh, I hated it.” Eddie says bluntly. “In a very stick-that-syringe-in-my-neck kind of way.”

“Shocker.” Steve actually expected a meaner response than that.

“Why did you put so many songs on there that use Girl in the title?”

“Hey - it’s not my fault that all of the rich poster child songs are about women.” Steve gets defensive about that one. Honestly, it’s true. There needs to be more music about wealthy guys with genetically flawless hair. Somebody needs to get on that shit so Steve can have more songs that apply to him.

“Whatever you say, man.” 

“So did it…” Steve is still standing. Hovering a bit. “Did it help?”

Eddie sticks out both of his arms, flipping to reveal his forearms to Steve.

They’re blank, besides the usual tattoos and contusions. They’re as blank as Eddie’s arms can be at the moment. No more Steve Cheat Sheet to be found.

Steve exhales all of his relief. “And you remember me?”

“Remembering you was never the problem, Steve.”

“It wasn’t?”

Eddie shakes his head. “But if I ever allowed myself to forget, I…” He taps rapidly over the Walkman. Steve’s Walkman. “I just didn’t wanna risk starting over.”

“Oh.”

“With you.”

The metaphorical arrow, the one Steve has alway seen on department store Valentines Day cards, goes straight through his chest. Eddie aims the words with you directly for Steve’s heart. Punctures that wall he built up after Nancy Wheeler.

The monitor connected to Eddie is beeping faster again. It’s not like that day Eddie was writhing in pain. No, it’s a different tempo.

It sounds like his nerves are conducting the pattern. He’s nervous. Steve is making him nervous.

Or Steve’s lack of response is making him nervous.

But how does Steve respond? Is this Eddie giving him permission to flirt back again? To keep driving down the detour of attraction, take the scenic route?

Eddie’s heart monitor is screaming, ‘say something, Steve.’

But Steve’s archive of failed relationships is screaming, back, ‘don’t fuck this up, dickhead.’

Steve tries to meet the two in the middle. Say something inviting yet keep it simple.

“So… do you wanna make fun of the shitty soap operas together?” 

Steve puts a little emphasis on the together part, hoping it’ll tame the monitor. Make the tones evenly paced. He lets his hand tap once against Eddie’s arm. Right over his newly blank wrist. So clean. No more scribbles.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to check my schedule.” Eddie teases with his words, sure. But his hand lifts up. Tapping Steve back. Twice. “I’m a very busy man, you see.”

Steve shoves him away, laughing as he does it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re not wrong.”

His monitor is ballad again.

One of Eddie’s (many) doctors walks into the room during their third hour of mocking the Home Shopping Network. Eddie has developed an elaborate backstory that they’re all cyborgs who are taking civilian money to grow their army of killer robots. Steve is surprisingly on board with this theory after the second hour. Some red headed lady twitches her eyes way too much to be human.

The doctor runs a few tests, looks over Eddie’s chart, the typical procedure. However, at the end of the visit, he decides to put Eddie on a new medication for his headaches. 

Headaches…

Steve flips back to that first day he started visiting Eddie. Finds the note he passive-aggressively took back then:

Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).

He fans through the other pages as well. At least two-thirds of them mention Eddie complaining about headaches. How did Steve miss this? How could he be so stupid? He was too busy fantasizing about Eddie’s chest tattoos and making shitty mixtapes, that he glossed over something so significant.

Dustin wouldn’t have missed this. Robin wouldn’t have missed this. Nancy definitely wouldn’t have missed this - hell, she would’ve already cracked the Case of the Missing Memories by now. 

Steve is the wrong man for this job. Not enough brainpower to fix a broken brain.

“Uh oh.” Eddie says. “Where you’d go, Harrington?”

Steve glances up to see Eddie pointing his finger at Steve’s head. “Just.. thinking.”

“Share with the class, please.”

Steve struggles to make his voice sound causal about this. “I should’ve known about the headaches. Paid better attention.”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asks. “Because if you are, we need to work on your delivery.”

“Not joking, no.”

Eddie’s tone is mildly annoyed, still gentle though. “Stevie… that guy gets paid a shitload of money to figure out my problems. Truly - the reason there’s no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is because it’s going straight into that guy’s pocket.”

Steve snorts. It’s even funnier to visualize because the doctor is kind of short.

“What I’m saying is, it’s his job to have a big brain.” Eddie’s eye contact is sharp. Broken bottle to his neck sharp. “And your job is to be my eye candy. Sit there and look cute while I try to not hack up my dinner.”

Steve’s hearing went crackly at all of the compliments. “Eye candy, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

Steve no longer has an excuse not to flirt back. Eddie has his mixtape; his arms are bare. He’s obviously encouraging it, even with the knowledge that Steve is a spoiled brat. He likes Steve, not just the good stuff. Eddie is still willing to pursue this even with Steve’s bad qualities.

So fuck it. Steve is gonna delve into his stockpile of pickup lines. He’s gonna rummage around his hoard of provocative catchprashes. Be the horny pack rat that he was born to be.

“Is the sitting part of my job description mandatory?” Steve leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“Oh, I’m very lenient on that detail.” Eddie’s voice drops lower. “The cute part… not so much.”

“So you’re only keeping me around for what? My great hair? My symmetrical bone structure? My biceps, maybe?”

“Definitely not your humility, that’s for damn sure.”

They share a smile as Steve gets up, inches closer to Eddie’s bed. He reaches out and pinches the sleeve of Eddie’s hospital gown between his fingers. He cautiously rubs it over a few times, waiting to see Eddie’s reaction to this droplet of affection.

Eddie catches Steve’s wrist with his other hand. Mirrors the rubbing motion Steve set in place with the material.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Steve nudges Eddie lightly. “Is this okay?”

And before he can even get a response back, Eddie’s face starts turning grayish-green. 

This happens. Eddie throws up biweekly, so it’s not a big deal at all. It’s just that Steve is usually not laying on the moves when Eddie is about to blow chunks. Honestly, it knocks Steve’s astronomical ego down a few notches.

He probably deserves it.

Eddie is really sick. He pukes three more times, and he starts running a fever after the second time. He’s all clammy and curled into a pillow, clutching it with shaky fingers.

It’s all side effects from the new medication apparently. Yeah, Eddie’s head is no longer splitting open, but his body is rejecting all of the cardboard hospital food.

Steve keeps an eye on him, not that he can do much about it. He gets a styrofoam cup of ice chips so Eddie can chew on it whenever his temperature spikes. He wipes the sweat off Eddie’s temples because one - it’s a nice gesture, and two - it gives him an excuse to be nearby.

The shivering is driving Steve crazy though. He’s so on edge just watching Eddie like this. Eddie keeps making jokes like ‘at least I’ll remember your stupid worried face in the morning’ or ‘damn, my past better be worth all of this.’ And Steve will chuckle halfheartedly each time.

The heart monitor is all jumpy now. Even, uneven, even, uneven. If Steve focuses on it for too long, it starts to sound like he’s driving by a highway collision. A pileup of beeps and tones.

He gets another cup of cafeteria coffee. Hopes the bitterness and chalky creamer will be enough to muffle his hearing. Steer his mind to an empty exit lane.

“What? No coffee for me?” Eddie is under an extra blanket now.

Steve scoots his chair even closer to Eddie’s bedside. “What’s the point? You’d just puke it all up.” He’s pretty lousy at supportive words, isn’t he?

“Aren’t visiting hours almost over?”

“You trying to get rid of me, Munson?”

“Never. Just figured you needed to catch the bus or whatever.”

Eddie remembers Steve taking the bus.

“Robin finally gave me my car back.” Steve conveniently leaves out how he demanded  for it to be returned to him. “So, I’ll stay until they kick me out… if that’s cool with you.”

He places his non-coffee holding hand over top of Eddie’s open palm. It’s sort of instinctual. Doesn’t give his mind a moment to wonder if this is crossing a line. 

Holding hands in a hospital doesn’t mean romance. It never has. People do it all time, no one bats an eye at them either. It’s just a gesture of helpless support. It’s what people do to signify, ‘I can’t heal you with medicine, but I can warm your under-circulated skin just a little.’

But when Eddie’s fingers curl around his own, Steve’s stomach swells like its romance. It swells with hot air, helium maybe. It swells and stays swollen. Stays thermal and full.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to pay my eye candy overtime.” Eddie’s face rushes all pinkish-red. Almost as if he’s trying to combat his blush with humor, but it’s not working. He’s all the colors now. And with or without them, he’s attractive.

“You don’t pay me at all.”

“You got me there.” Eddie shakes a frizzy curl in front of his cheek. A poor effort to hide his flushed face. “I’m a terrible employer.”

Steve traces the grooves of Eddie’s palm lines. Pretends that they form a railroad track. “The worst.”

Once his fever finally breaks, Eddie falls asleep. His body unfolds, his fingers uncurl. It’s a heavy sleep, one that makes him all languid and soft. Any traces of bones are questionable now.

And even though Steve is about to pass out from exhaustion, he doesn’t move his hand from Eddie’s. He’d rather give up his whole arm than move it.

Sam peaks in just before Steve nods off. She lets in the bright hallway light, not too much though. Not enough to wake Eddie. Honestly, not a lot of things wake Eddie up these days.

“Sorry.” Steve yawns. “I overstayed my welcome.”

She shrugs, checks the fluids in one of Eddie’s IV bags. “You know, you can stay the night, if you’d like.”

“Really?”

“It’s pretty late… you shouldn’t be driving on the highway at this time of night.”

“Won’t I…” Steve reworks the phrase. Tries to be less selfish about it. “Won’t you get in trouble for letting me stay?”

“Oh no.” She winks. “Because I never saw you here.”

Steve smirks. “Got it.”

“But if I did see you here,” She gestures her head to the door on her right. “I would tell you there’s extra pillows in the linen closet over there.”

Sam deserves a fucking raise. Steve would become a goddamn patron of this hospital just to give her more money. Let the godsend of a woman retire early for christ’s sake.

“Thanks, Sam.” Steve whispers.

“Thank you for keeping him company.” She whispers back. “He’s lucky to have someone like you.”

Steve doesn’t know if that’s true, if Eddie is lucky to have him, but he nods anyway. Gives a gentle wave as Sam heads back out of the room.

He sets the pillow next to Eddie’s leg, keeping their hands connected as he dozes off. Steve falls asleep the same way he used to fall asleep in class. All bent over in his chair, one cheek flattened out on the desk. It’s very reminiscent of that.

Only better because he’s with the guy that makes his chest swell, even when he’s being sarcastic or melodramatic. Even when he’s cobwebbed himself into a maze of cords. Even when he’s bitching about batteries and Steve’s vomit-inducing fashion sense.

Steve thinks maybe he likes the undesirable traits of Eddie Munson just as much as the desirable ones.

And once he’s knocked out entirely, the rhythm of his heart matches the beeping monitor hooked up to Eddie’s chest.

Day 57:

It’s been a long time since Steve has had a decent dream. And this dream he’s in right now? It’s fucking luxurious.

He’s at the hair salon, because of course he is - it’s his home away from home. 

His head is reclining back in that giant sink thing. The one that’s like a soup bowl for hair or whatever. The stylist is shampooing his scalp, scrubbing all of those foamy products into his roots. This is Steve’s favorite part of getting his hair done, he always feels blissed out of his mind afterward.

They keep washing it for the whole dream, digging their nails into his head, dunking water over his hair every so often. It’s downright perfection. A dream he could stay stuck in forever. 

The scenery of the dream flickers out, but the sensations linger as he gains consciousness. His squints both of his eyes open, immediately greeted by too much brightness, too much sunlight. Steve shuts them again, soaking up the remnants of his dream. The hair scratching that’s ongoing even though he’s awake.

Awake.

Steve is awake and can still feel all of that salon paradise. His brain finally wakes up enough to realize it isn’t a dream. It’s Eddie’s hands in his hair, combing it thoroughly.

Fuck, it feels so good too. Steve wonders if Eddie is aware of what he’s doing or if he’s also in that suspended place between awake and asleep.

It doesn’t matter, not really. It all feels way too incredible to care about the logistics. Steve nuzzles deeper into the pillow to hide the happy little hums that keep escaping through his mouth. 

Eddie doesn’t stop. He keeps moving his hand around. Twirling strands and releasing them. Ruffling strands and smoothing them. Massaging the pads of his fingers in all the right places. Every bit of it is dreamy. Better than the dream Steve initially believed to be unbeatable.

Being Eddie’s own personal petting zoo is way better. Miles, light years better. Is there any form of measurement longer than lightyears? Because it’s bigger and better than that too.

Eddie tugs a little harder, just once, but once is all it takes to make Steve melt. He open-mouth sighs into the pillow, hoping the fabric mutes the neediness of it. There’s drool on the pillow and it’s unclear if it’s from when he was asleep or if it occurred just from that one hair tug. 

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice still sounds coated in sleep. “Is this weird?”

Steve shakes his head no, still unable to lift his face from the pillow.

“Should I stop?”

Steve shakes his head much faster. Absolutely not. Stopping should be banished from Eddie’s vocabulary. The word ‘stop’ should be homeless as far as Steve is concerned.

Eddie tugs again, more firmly this time. The tug goes straight to Steve’s dick, which yikes. Humiliating. Yeah, it’s morning and this shit happens, but not this kind of boner. Not one brought on by hair salon fantasies and a metalhead with magical fingertips. This can’t be the reality of Steve’s life right now but somehow, it is.

“I think I combed through all of that cake-up hairspray.” Eddie talks as his hand continues to roam around Steve’s scalp. “Feels like cashmere now, so you’re welcome.”

Steve sighs again, pretty sure it’s much more audible this time because Eddie laughs.

“Embarrassing.” Steve mumbles. That’s all he can muster out without becoming a puddle of humiliation.

“The sounds you’re making?”

Steve nods.

“Oh that is not the adjective I would’ve gone with.” Eddie claws his fingers all the way down to Steve’s neck. “Not even close.”

Steve is all hormones now, all slurred speech and thoughtless words. “So good, Eddie.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie whines, sounds breathier than Steve. “You cannot say my name like that when I’m in a tissue-thin gown.”

Steve wants to sneak a peek, see if what Eddie is suggesting holds any truth. He resists, only because he’s trying to sort out his own tent-pitching problems at the moment.

He gradually lifts his head off of the pillow, back cracking as he straightens his spine out after hours of being shaped like fucking tetris piece. It’s the last thing he wants to do because it means Eddie has to take his hand out of Steve’s hair. But as Eddie pulls away, his knuckles brush against Steve’s ear, awakening this newfound urgency to not let this moment fizzle out.

Steve hops up onto the bed, sitting side-saddle next to Eddie. He looks through Eddie’s eyes, the ones that remind him of shimmery dresses and the backseat of his car on prom night. He looks through to find a reason to stop his actions. Stop his need to touch Eddie’s jawline or thumb over his lips. He’s searching for a reason to stop and finding none whatsoever.

“Do you remember me?”

“You’re Steve Harrington.” Eddie kind of stutters as he says it. “Hometown Slut extraordinaire.”

The nerdy bastard is never going to let that one go.

Steve gives a quiet laugh, leaning in to his impulses. He slides his thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip, curving around, mapping invisible outlines. A blueprint for his imagination when they’re apart later. “Am I reading this wrong?”

Eddie’s gaze is glued to Steve’s lips as he shakes his head no.

“Good.”

Steve uses his free hand to lift himself up, get closer. Breathing in the same stale oxygen, sucking up the same early morning courage, existing in the same dizzying climate.

He can feel Eddie exhale softly over his skin when there’s a knock at the door.

Steve has never stood up so fast in his damn life. Gets a head rush that’s so overwhelming that his vision speckles out momentarily. 

It’s Sam. Thank god it’s only Sam. But also, screw god for interrupting what almost happened just now. Not cool, sky man.

“Just a heads up,” she starts, shutting the door behind her. “You have another visitor that just arrived.”

Right. It's the weekend.

Steve and Eddie say it in unison. “Dustin.”

Sam hums in reply. “I can stall him for a couple minutes. Give you time to sneak out the stairs that are tucked in the back hallway.”

“You’re the best.” Steve says. “I’ll be quick.”

She leaves, cracking the door on her way out.

Both of them just look at each other for a moment. There’s no time to even discuss the events that just took place. No time to recover the kiss that is already sneaking out the back hallway stairs.

Steve nervously whistles. “So…”

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Monday.” 48 hours apart seems insane. “Yeah.”

Steve hurriedly makes his way to the door - refusing his horny impulses the opportunity to kick back in and ruin everything. “See you later, Eds.”

Eddie licks over his bottom lip - the one Steve mapped out with his thumbprint. “Later, sailor.”

Um. What?

Steve’s eyes go large. “What did you just call me?”

“Go.” Eddie flashes the wickedest grin. “We’ll talk all about your ocean of flavor on Monday.”

This can’t be happening. “Ocean of -”

“Get out of here already!”

Steve flings himself out of the room, sprinting down the hall. Does Eddie actually recall Steve working at Starcourt? How can that be possible? Steve doesn’t remember seeing Eddie outside of school ever. 

Plus, they’ve never even talked about his job at Scoops Ahoy. Family Video? Sure, that’s more recent. But Scoops? Steve tries to forget just about everything from his time at that seaside shithole.

Goddamnit, this is confusing. The hair foreplay. The almost-kiss. The nautical nickname. Confusing is an understatement. Steve needs to go back to high school and learn a better word for what this is. Confusing isn’t cutting it anymore.

If Steve can make it till Monday without spiraling into a bucket of nerves, he deserves a fucking trophy.

And a kiss on the lips.

Mostly the second option (although a trophy would be nice too). 

[ninjatrashpanda]

Season 8 Episode 5 Write-Up

I’m predictable, but yes, I’ve watched this particular episode a lot more than the usual three to four times I do lmao, and I’ll probably watch it again a whole lot more during this week’s mini hiatus. Overall, ‘Masks’ was a lot less involved than the episodes before it, so I feel like this might actually be a little shorter than usual.

Anyway, if you’d like to see my thoughts on the previous episodes, you can find my masterlist here. Continue past the cut if you dare!

1. Henren and the plight of being a first responder parent

More Wilson family time! And Karen actually has lines this time!

Starting the episode with the Wilsons and Jee-Yun as the Wizard of Oz characters for an early Halloween photo shoot was a great choice. It’s a nice, lighthearted way to ease us into a nice, lighthearted episode. Y’know, before it pulls the rug out from under your feet and proceeds to rip out your heart and stomps on it. Fun!

Starting the episode proper, I’m a little torn right off the bat. Because yeah, Karen feeling that Hen is missing a lot of big milestones in Denny’s and now Mara’s lives because of her job is pretty valid, and I’m sure it’s a topic that isn’t once discussed and then done forever, especially since they now have two kids.

On the other hand, it did feel like she brought it up out of nowhere, and especially that close to Halloween when she knows that’s a busy night for first responders. I’m also not sure if that might have been the intention, because Hen seemed just as confused. And honestly, Denny and Mara weren’t even really upset either, so I don’t really know what Karen’s deal really is.

I will say that I’m not a big fan of how Hen (and by extension, Chimney) ended up “handling” the issue. Because they didn’t handle it. The way I understand it, either Hen or Chim could’ve taken Halloween off, so they…decided that neither was gonna take the day? Wouldn’t it, I don’t know, make more sense to say one of them takes Halloween off this year, and the other next year? Cause Karen has a point that being the only adult taking three kids trick or treating, even if Denny is a young teenager now, is a lot, and I’m sure she would’ve appreciated it had either Hen or Chim taken the opportunity to accompany her and the kids and help handle them. Hen basically unilaterally decided that Karen should do it all on her own, which is a major misstep in communication.

Also, Chim spends several moments of screen time lamenting that he’s missing his daughter’s first trick or treat. My man, I love you, but you…could’ve taken the day off and spent it with Jee (and Karen and the Wilson kids). The only person at fault you’re missing it is…you.

Aaaand we then basically get thrown into Denny getting hit by a car and pinned to the wall of a house right after that. Yes, we do get the short FaceTime scene in between there, but it doesn’t really do anything to really further the plot line outside of showing us Karen is still pissed. Also, uh, again, Denny, throughout that call? Isn’t upset. He’s totally cool with one of his moms missing Halloween. I genuinely still don’t get why Karen is this bent out of shape about it if the kids themselves are seemingly okay with it.

So, the car crash. Obviously, we knew it would happen from the promo after last week’s episode (and I pity those of us who streamed the episode the next day and chose not to watch the promo, therefore getting thrown into emotional turmoil and heart wrenching agony without notice). And I’m gonna go ahead and say we all probably knew from the getgo that Denny would be fine. No way they’d kill him off. 

Being prepared for the crash didn’t matter. Knowing the show wouldn’t kill Denny off didn’t matter. Because despite all of it, I was scared. The acting of everyone involved, from Aisha to Tracie to Declan to Kenny, pulled me in and made me feel like they might still do it, if that makes sense. I still knew they wouldn’t (to the point where “They wouldn’t do it” became my mantra throughout the whole sequence), but felt like they would, if that makes sense? I don’t know, I feel like I’m not explaining this properly.

Aisha and Tracie really brought their A game in this scene. Aisha sells Hen’s panic and anguish to the extent that I felt panicked and anguished. Tracie portraying Karen’s shocked, almost disbelieving lack of reaction was powerful in its own right, because you just know that later on, once the adrenaline wears off, she’s gonna break in half. Let’s get real here, ‘9-1-1’ is a silly show. It’s the show were sharks crash on the freeway, and bee-nados haunt Los Angeles. But every now and again, it shows us just what powerhouses it’s actors are, no matter whether they’re main, recurring, guests, whatever. Aisha and Tracie acted their asses off in this scene, and I appreciate them so much more than I could ever properly express with words.

This brings us to the hospital scene. Denny is safe. He’s injured, but out of the danger zone. Hen and Karen know their son will be okay, and it leads to them actually, properly talking about the issues they’ve had in the beginning of this episode. We have Hen wishing she had taken the night off, wondering if she could’ve stopped the whole thing, if she could’ve saved Denny. And we have Karen acknowledging how important Hen’s job is. It’s a nice, beautiful little scene that puts a nice bow on a slightly out-of-nowhere, but emotionally raw and resonant storyline. Karen’s “Thank God you were at work” has entered my list of 9-1-1 lines I’ll never forget. 

2. Tevan, Eddie, and the Curse of Billy Boils

Oliver Stark had way too much fun with his storyline this episode, and for good reason. I missed Buck being insane (affectionately), and putting any kind of superstition next to Eddie is always a treat. Add both a copious amount of Tevan cuteness, and the frankly amazing dynamic between Tommy and Eddie, and you have one of the best comic relief storylines the show’s ever had.

But let’s start at the beginning. Buck rents a dummy for the haunted house the 118 puts up in the firehouse. Except, surprise! It’s not a dummy, it’s actually a real, mummified body of a gunslinger from 200 years ago. 

And the biggest question about this is honestly: What. The. Hell???

Granted, Buck freaking out after he rips Billy’s arm off (in front of 15 children. Remember when Buck told a bunch of kids Santa’s not real? Looks like he can’t help but traumatize kids on the holidays) is hilarious (“He’s real! He’s real! He’s real! He’s real!”), but he does have a point. Why the hell did a prop store have a real, mummified body, and why did they rent it out to Buck as a dummy when they had it stored as a curio? I guess we’ll never know.

The hospital scene after Buck dislocates his shoulder (because Billy Boils cursed him 😂) might be my favorite scene in the Season so far. On top of Tommy being a concerned boyfriend (He came right after his shift! 🥰), we get Buck being, as I mentioned before, positively insane about this perceived “curse” Billy Boils put on him. Oliver’s delivery of his lines sounds so completely unhinged, I’m actually surprised Tommy, Eddie or the doctors didn’t have him transferred to a mental facility.

Speaking of the two of them, Tommy and Eddie’s dynamic is amazing, and I genuinely hope we get some scenes/storylines with just the two of them getting into shenanigans. Ryan and Lou’s chemistry is chaotic as hell, and I love it. Seriously, Eddie and Tommy could easily become the new Bobby and Michael, and I hope the show capitalizes on how well the two bounce off of each other.

Afterward, of course, we get Tommy and Buck in Buck’s loft, with Tommy being a perfect, doting, fussy boyfriend, bringing Buck a new ice pack, giving him some ibuprofen (No, I will not humor the “Buck is allergic to naproxen, Tommy poisoned him!” theory, Tommy clearly says he’s giving Buck an ibu, Buck takes it, which he wouldn’t if his naproxen allergy was affected by ibuprofen.), fluffs his pillow! (I don’t know why it’s the pillow fluffing that makes me melt into goo, but it is!) And instead of taking Buck’s bed upstairs, he sleeps on the couch with the tiniest blanket known to mankind while Buck sleeps on the armchair because of his shoulder, just so he can be close to him if he needs him.

Tommy Kinard, the man that you are 💖

And of course, Tommy gets up early the next day to make his injured boyfriend breakfast, because obviously. I genuinely love the shock and terror when he sees the boils on Buck’s face. Lou already gets to be a lot more animated and expressive than he got to last season, and it’s paying off.

They call Eddie over, and we’re right back to the fantastic dynamic all three of them have with each other. We have Tommy teetering between worried and exasperated (and God, do I love how hard he instantly backtracks the moment Buck accuses him of finding him gross), while Eddie completely dismisses the existence of a curse in the first place, and reassures Buck that the boils are probably gonna clear up by next shift. I highly doubt that Buck could even work next shift, considering that he dislocated his shoulder yesterday, but whatever, this is the show where Chimney came back to work a month after his head was impaled with rebar, so.

“Probably allergies, he said. Probably just in my head, he said. Probably clear up by next shift, he said!” Oliver’s delivery of this particular part made my freaking night when I watched it for the first time, and Ryan absolutely nailed the grossed out can’t-even-look-at-you parts. Loved the part where Eddie actually gave Buck five bucks, and how Buck straight up just snatches the bill. This show is a comedy, and it’s amazing.

The hospital waiting room scene after Denny’s accident features a lot of foreshadowing, imo. Tommy not being in the group chat yet, and his comment about how good it must feel to have a crew like the 118, who always have each other’s back, is a very clear call back to last season, where he already expressed how jealous he was.

Honestly, I think Tommy is pretty lonely. Yeah, he seems to have quite a few friends, but he doesn’t necessarily seem close to anyone, surrounded by people, yet not feeling like he belongs anywhere. Which could just be a side-effect of him being a very recent addition to the recurring cast, but the writing choices around him seem to point toward this being part of his character, and potentially part of the hurdles Buck and Tommy allegedly face next episode. I’m looking forward to it!

And then we get to the last scene at the cemetery. Between Buck being his usual compassionate, empathetic self to a dead outlaw who died 200 years ago, talking about how he understands how painful going through life alone is (which just seems to be more foreshadowing about Tommy, tbh), and how Billy doesn’t have to be alone in death anymore, because Buck is in his posse now, this scene was a perfect blend of funny, heartwarming, and surprisingly deep.

Because yeah, of course Buck would empathize with Billy having been betrayed by his posse and dying alone. Buck knows probably better than any other main character what it means to be truly alone. Sure, he had Maddie when he was a kid, but she moved to Boston with Doug when he was twelve. So, like, Buck was alone, maybe with a few shallow friendships throughout middle and high school, from age twelve to age twenty-six, when he joined the LAFD and was assigned to the 118. This silly funeral scene is unironically one of the best showings of Buck’s empathy and emotional intelligence we’ve had in a while.

And, of course, we get Buck calling Tommy his boyfriend for the first time. It isn’t even presented as a big moment, he just casually says it, casually points at Tommy while he says it. And I think there’s a certain beauty in it, because it tells us that they’ve been official for a while now. In fact, I’d say everything regarding their storyline in this episode has been about how they’ve been official for a while. Tommy’s comfort level in Buck’s apartment, Tommy roasting Buck with Eddie, Buck and Tommy having cute little squabbles. This episode genuinely did such a good job at showing us how solid Tevan are, and it did it in a completely seamless way, without much shoehorned in dialogue. It’s honestly really well done.

Also, to end this section, we got four Evans this week, so I expect at least four Tah-mes next week. Maybe more. And more Evans. I’m craving it.

3. Miscellaneous scene thoughts

I’m gonna make this part short and sweet.

I loved Bobby putting on the romanian accent and calling himself “Cap Dracula.” It gave massive Dad vibes, and continues to allow him to be more lighthearted and funny this season, which Peter absolutely nails.

The haunted house scene was super fun, and I love how into it Hen and Chim were. Eddie being cringe af and failing to scare kids was not only funny, it was fitting ridiculously well, especially since his costume was…questionable. They could’ve done a better werewolf is what I’m trying to say.

Also, I’m pretty sure the LAFD would not spend this much money on a freaking haunted house. Like, that almost looked like a professional haunted house, with super professional looking makeup on Hen, and the whole extensive werewolf getup for Eddie.

Loved the Halloween call montage, especially Athena with the clown car. You gotta love how this show has Angela Bassett, and they utilize her by having her stop a drunk driver driving a little car full of clowns.

Speaking of Athena, I thought about giving her “plot” its own section, but it’s so little it barely qualifies as a C plot. Long story short, I don’t think the message was that the teen girls were fully responsible for Denny getting injured. But they were involved and carry part of the blame. Had they, and other kids like them, not needlessly and stupidly antagonized and pranked their vice principal, he wouldn’t have snapped and started chasing them down. Yes, he is mostly to blame, because he couldn’t properly control his emotions, but he was pushed to his breaking point by having his house vandalized again and again and again. Also, frankly, I question Maddie’s complete lack of sympathy and willingness to help in the guy's case. Sorry, but several people putting a flaming bag of shit on a man’s porch, throwing eggs at his house and covering it in toilet paper absolutely warrants the police. Being a kid doesn’t excuse ruining somebody’s home. Yes, the principal chasing the girls down and trying to run them off the road was extreme and unforgivable, but can we stop pretending they didn’t do anything wrong?

Like, is this an American thing? Excusing vandalism on Halloween and telling people they should just clean up the mess and shut their mouths? Do dispatchers actually go “Sorry, but not tonight, try again tomorrow morning”? I’m confused.

4. Final Thoughts

This was easily my favorite episode this season so far. I especially love how both major plots of the episode revolve around our main queer couples, yet you don’t even really notice because it just…feels natural. 9-1-1 didn’t feel it necessary to highlight that it focused a whole episode on two queer couples. The storylines also don’t revolve around queerness at all and would have happened the same way if Henren and Tevan were straight ships. The show, in ways you still don’t see that often, doesn’t treat its queer relationships differently from its straight ones, and I think that’s really neat.

*

And that’s it. If you read to the end, thank you for reading! If you want to discuss things with me, write a comment, reblog, shoot me an ask, whatever you want! Or don’t, that’s fine too. I’m gonna be back with more random thoughts next week.

Bye bye!

[farfaras]

Steddie week. Day 3: First kiss. 1.4k words. Ao3 link.

@steddie-week

~

Yeah, they’re absolutely, 100 percent, morons. Like, who even is this stupid? Steve thinks that ever since facing off an evil wizard with interdimensional powers, they do not have a sense of preservation or survival when it comes to actual normal human beings.

They just wanted to have dinner! Honestly Eddie hasn’t had much trouble with people, the story that was put out made him look like a hero (which Steve is glad for, because he is) and the town believed it like they’ve believed everything since 1983.

But these fucking jocks will not leave Eddie alone. Steve is tired of this, he can’t even imagine the exhaustion that Eddie feels.

When they approached them Steve knew that it was going to be a little bit harder to get out of than the other times. There were 5 of them, and just Steve and Eddie. When it’s just one or two, Steve can usually just scare them off with a glare and a name drop.

And Eddie.

He’s an idiot.

An idiot!

Since the whole thing he pulled in the upside down, they’ve had talks. About how he’s not a coward. He’s brave and he doesn’t need to prove anything. Sometimes running is okay. Sometimes running is the only option.

But he still has trouble believing it sometimes.

Steve is patient and understanding. Robin has said many times how people have a process.

He just wishes Eddie didn’t have to live his process right at moments like these!

He loves Eddie (wait, hold on, what?), but he can be somewhat impulsive and unpredictable. Steve was hoping that while he was defusing and excusing themselves, Eddie would follow his lead. Well, wrong.

He doesn’t even know what happened! One moment he was talking and the next they’re running away from some soda splashed jocks. Oh come on, Eddie.

Robin sometimes jokes about him and Eddie being the kids’ co-parents. The kids find it funny, for some reason. Dustin calls them both dad and Mike likes to call Steve mom as if that would bother him.

But right now, Eddie doesn’t feel like a co-parent as much as he feels like another goddamn kid. Always the babysitter.

So now, they’re running from 5 guys who are pissed. And sticky.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” Steve is almost hysterical.

“I panicked! They’re so many!” Eddie is panting, and he doesn’t know how much more he’s gonna be able to keep running.

“So throwing drinks at them was your solution?!” Steve is talking a big game, but in an alternative universe, he’s probably the one who threw the drinks.

“Better than what you were doing!” Eddie argues.

“I was doing just fine!” He was! Steve was gonna get them out of there. Unscathed. He had to. That’s what he’s for.

“Words weren’t gonna stop ‘em.” True, but at least they could’ve walked out or ran, before they were pissed.

“Well I hardly see anything that could stop them now!” They take a turn so they have some time to think of something while the jocks catch up. But like Steve said there’s nothing that can help them here.

There’s some stores. And an alley in the middle of a clothing and a pet store. Eddie grabs his hand and guides them towards the clothing store. “Come on, follow my lead.”

There’s some mannequins in front of the store, Eddie takes a long dark coat off the mannequin. “What are you doing?” Steve asks.

“Shh.” Eddie just shushes him. He shushes him! What is he on?

“Wha- don’t you shush me!” He whisper yells with not a very convincing anger in his voice.

“Stop asking questions and just do what I say!” Eddie requests. Which is kind of a lot to ask considering he’s the one who worsened the situation. “I got us into this and I’ll get us out.” Huh. Steve thinks that’s fair, but he’s still hesitant.

“But I don’t know what we’re doing.” Steve doesn’t like that.

“Me neither. But it’s better than nothing.” Steve thinks Eddie kinda lives by that philosophy. Does he have that one on that doctrine he came up with?

What’s the difference between philosophy and doctrine? Huh. Wait, no sidetracking. Steve, focus! You’re both in danger.

Eddie puts the coat on, it’s so long it covers most of his legs. He also grabs the beanie and jacket that were on the other mannequin and puts it on Steve. “What’s this even gonna do?”

“I told you to stop asking questions!” Eddie’s eyes look wild.

“Sorry.” Steve’s sure Eddie is scared right now, but he does a good job of hiding it.

Eddie takes his hand and they run to the alley. Who has a dead end. Shit. They hear the voices turning the corner. Fuck, they’re gonna come across the alley anytime now.

Eddie turns to him and backs him into a corner. “Kiss me.”

Well. Steve couldn’t have heard that right. He shakes his head. “What?”

Eddie turns his back on the entrance of the alley. It’s kinda dark and they’re all the way to the back. “Now! They’re coming!” Eddie demands.

Eddie doesn’t give him much time to answer or even come up with something to say. Suddenly there are lips pressed to his. Eddie swallows any sound of surprise he might’ve been about to make. Eddie’s hands are on his chest and Steve finds himself putting his hands on Eddie’s waist and pulling him closer, as if he’s acting on instinct. There’s footsteps, voices, they seem to stop in front of the entrance. Steve doesn’t exactly know what they’re doing because he’s closed his eyes. They mutter something, god knows what, and then they go on their way. Looking for them somewhere else.

However, they don’t stop kissing when they’re gone. In fact, Steve hugs Eddie’s waist now, pulling them chest to chest while Eddie’s hands move to his face. They pull apart just to catch a single breath before going back in. Huh, now they’re just making out. Steve can call it what it is. He doesn’t know what Eddie is doing with his tongue, but he’s not complaining at all.

“I- um.” Eddie tries to step back but his embrace is strong. “My long hair.”

“Your…?” Steve’s brain isn’t computing much right now.

“From their point of view, it-“ Eddie inhales deeply. “It probably looked like a girl and a guy kissing.” Oh. Oh, Steve is so stupid. “Plus this coat almost looks like a dress.”

“Yeah, no, that’s- you-“ God, can he not even form sentences anymore? “Good thinking.” If he could, Steve would facepalm right now.

“They’re gone now.” Eddie nods.

“They sure are.” Steve confirms. Doesn’t really know what else to do.

Eddie looks around, and then directly at his eyes. That’s intense. “You can let me go now.”

He can let him go now. Eddie’s hands have moved to his shoulders, probably not knowing where else to put them.

He could let him go, now. They could go back to their respective places. And move on like this was another normal day for them.

He could do that.

Or.

Or he could confront this. Confront this thing that’s been going on between them for, in Steve’s humble opinion, far too long. He was scared before. He still is, but it doesn’t feel like something he can’t conquer, now. So he makes the decision. He’s not running away from this anymore. Even if sometimes that’s all you can do, that’s not the case here. He could be doing so much more. They could be doing so much more.

“No.” Steve says. And it’s said with finality.

Eddie looks confused. “What? What do you mean?”

“I won’t let you go.” He shrugs. They’re still holding on to each other. “I like you too much for that.”

“What are you saying?”

“Exactly what you heard. I like you.” He leans in. He waits for Eddie to back off, show any type of discomfort or rejection on his face. But there’s nothing like that. “Can I kiss you again?”

A gasp comes out. Eddie nods. “Yes.” It’s whispered and if they weren’t so close he might’ve never heard it.

This one is more gentle. Slow and soft. Almost lazy, like they don’t need to rush because they know they’re gonna get to this again. And again.

“I like you too.” Eddie rests his forehead to his.

Steve smiles at him, and when Eddie smiles back he knows. He knows that he’s gonna fall so hard. He kinda already has.

[animentality]

I just wanna remind the class that Sirius Black was an awful character. He basically did nothing to help or protect Harry through all of the books where he was alive, and while I agree that Harry sucks, and I wouldn't want to protect him either, it's still a mark against his character and speaks to like, the total incompetence of JK Rowling as a writer.

In book 3 he endangered the trio by dragging Pettigrew under the Whomping Willow and getting them involved in his bullshit, when he could've just waited for a better opportunity instead of literally diving on Ron in front of his friends and dragging his ass away. Like really? Harry is in Gryffindor, idiot, he's not gonna let his best friend get eaten by a dog. Also Harry had to watch his parents die. You really wanted him to watch you murder a guy? You're stupid as hell.

You're also a fucking dog, and Pettigrew is a RAT. Neither of you have a wand. You can easily outpace a rat and then tackle him if he tries to change into a human. Also Crookshanks. Corner him when he tries to make a run for it. Don't dive on him when there are people around.

Also even if he runs, what the fuck is stopping you?

You have nothing going on. No 9 am meetings. Chase him away from Hogwarts so you can hunt his ass in peace. Don't bring Harry into it at all. You have nothing but time.

Then the only good thing he does is lose Pettigrew, vaguely save the kids from a werewolf, which is kind of his fucking fault, I might add.

And then passes out so that Harry can save HIM. Then he has to be saved again from returning to Azkaban.

Now you can at least excuse book 3 Sirius because the guy is absolutely nuts after 12 years in evil wizard prison. He's cracked and he's not thinking straight. And him being hunted by the government isn't really his fault. He's a red herring. The big plot twist is that he's not evil and that's "fine." It's acceptable.

But book 4?

Oh my god he's so useless.

He's there for Harry to send letters to, and then NOT help him at all.

The only thing he does is get interrupted by Ron before he can tell Harry to do something really stupid, which is hit the dragon in the fucking eye, something that could've easily gotten him burned or stomped on, or still hit with the Horntail's tail. Harry basically figured it out because of fake Moody, not Sirius.

Then Sirius' guidance is just a red herring of "oooh watch karkaroff" gee thanks buddy.

I'm so glad you're here just so JK Rowling can misdirect the audience. Again.

He also gives exposition about Barty Crouch.

Again, for the misdirect, of thinking Barty Crouch is bad.

But that's it.

There are far better ways to give exposition on Crouch. I'd argue the movie did it better and in a more dramatic way.

He then does nothing whatsoever to help Harry with the 2nd or 3rd tasks. His greatest utility is as a support animal at the end of book 4.

It's actually amazing how he does nothing for the entirety of Goblet of Fire.

He basically just comes back to Britain so he can die in the next book.

And then that's where he's at his worst before dying.

He encourages Harry to do dangerous and stupid things. He does stupid things himself and makes Harry, the 15 year old boy, worry about him, a grown ass man, because he hates being home.

I know that people have childhood trauma and all that, but for fucks sake.

He would not be a suitable guardian for a child ever because he puts himself first.

And before you fuckheads start insisting that's the "tragedy" of his character and it's so emotional and deep, yak yak, I don't want to hear it because he's a fucking plot device before a character.

His whole role in book 5 is to make you think he's gonna do something stupid.

And then he does.

And then he dies.

And it's crazy because he's a wildly popular character, despite the fact that he's terrible. But I can't even really criticize the popularity, because it's mostly carried by Gary Oldman being hot, and also doing a way better job of making us give a shit about him.

I can't express enough how absolutely stupid and awful it was for Sirius to brush Harry off when he was afraid he was becoming evil after seeing nagini attack Arthur!! this is the last fucking book Sirius is alive and this is like the last time they really get to talk one on one.

the scene with Gary Oldman telling him he's not evil... it literally outweighs every fucking Sirius Black scene in the goddamn books!! and it's an original scene.

the director realized that we have to remember we actually like Sirius because of how little he has to do in the main plots.

but it fucking worked.

the warmth that Gary Oldman exudes in that movie is genuinely charming.

but the book Sirius???

NOT. IT.

There's nothing wrong inherently with excusing some of this crap for drama or storytelling purposes, I just object to the fact that the character himself could've been far more interesting and sympathetic.

He could've actually been helpful or proactive or had something to do with the plot that wasn't just acting as a red herring, which I might add he did literally 3 times. First he's not a villain, second it's not Karkaroff or Crouch, and then third he's not actually in the ministry building, Harry's just an idiot.

The childhood best friend of a kids dead father has so much potential.

But he's shuffled and sidelined and treated like a prop before a person. His charming nature is just for fun, it doesn't actually bring anything out of Harry, aside from the protectiveness he feels for all of his friends.

He's vaguely funny sometimes and cracks a few jokes and tells the kids they're dumb every once and a while.

And that's it.

I really can't express enough how absolutely fumbled his character is. We don't get enough of him talking about James or his time at Hogwarts.

Ironically Snape gives Harry way more info on what his dad was like, in like, all of his flashback scenes.

We never got to see the warm side of James that wasn't associated with bullying Snape.

Sirius would've been a great way to balance that out... but we never get his perspective on it.

He's there to dump exposition and be saved.

And it's such a waste.

[levi-venn]

The First Toothpick

Chapter Four: A Little Juicy Gossip

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapter Summary: Crosshair meets Todo 360 who does not know how to keep a secret.

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Available also on AO3

“Great callouts, Hunter! You’re a natural leader. Wrecker, we’re gonna need stronger droids to handle your strength. Tech, you sliced those panels in record time! Now let's see," The lieutenant looked at his datapad, scrolling through the rest of the data. 

Crosshair waited for his turn.

The lieutenant kept scrolling, frown deepening.

A brotherly hand squeezed Crosshair's shoulder. He pushed it away. He didn’t need comfort. He needed feedback.

“Alright, pack it up, soldiers,” the lieutenant said, tucking his datapad away. “The final test of the quarter is tomorrow.” 

“Hey, wait,” Hunter said. “What about-”

Crosshair's elbow found Hunter's ribs, chasing the question away.

“Is there a problem, soldier?” The lieutenant asked, raising an imperious brow.

Hunter clutched his side. “No, sir.”

The lieutenant left.

Crosshair would have left too if not for his brothers surrounding him, blocking his escape. 

“You did great , Crosshair,” Hunter insisted. 

“You hit every single mark flawlessly,” Tech observed.

“Yeah! You’re wizard!” Wrecker shouted.

Molten anger heated Crosshair's cheeks. “It doesn’t matter what you think,” he hissed. “The lieutenant’s opinion is all that matters. They are going to retire me.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Hunter said.

“It’s not up to you, Hunter,” Crosshair said. 

“Bugger this,” Hunter sighed and grabbed Crosshair’s wrist, tugging him towards a nearby ventilation grate. "Recon time. C’mon.”

Crosshair thought about kicking him, but...the recon may prove useful.

“Aww, recon?! I wanna come, too!” Wrecker whined.

“This mission requires more stealth than you are trained to handle, Wrecker” Tech indicated. “Also your size would break the air vent.”

“Hehe, yeah, I’m a real tank,” Wrecker grinned, proudly.

Hunter hoisted Crosshair up into the air ventilation tunnel before leaping up behind him.  The tunnel ran in a dozen different directions like a many-armed rapthar, each path identical to the next. Hunter always knew instinctively where to go. It didn’t take long before they found the vent overlooking the lieutenant’s office.

There was another clone in the office with him. 

No...not a clone...

“Is that Fett?” Hunter whispered. “Last time Fett was here, they took Radar away.”

“I know,” Crosshair snarled quietly.

“Oh yeah,” the Lieutenant snickered below, taking his seat at his desk. “He's the best in the facility.” 

“Cut the sarcasm, Pynk,” Fett leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “We need a sniper in this squad.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good sniper, but we train good snipers every day. This squad needs someone extraordinary and he isn’t. It’ll save a lot of time and energy to just retire him and pick up a normal sniper for the team.”

A normal sniper…

Crosshair had heard enough. He shoved Hunter down the tunnel and followed him, angrily wiping his blurry, wet eyes as they went.

“Are they gonna retire Crosshair?” Wrecker whispered loudly to Tech as Crosshair climbed out of the vent.

“They will have to retire me first,” Tech said, adjusting his goggles, not bothering to lower his voice. “I won’t let them take him.”

“Yeah,” Wrecker slammed his fists together, “me neither.”

He ignored them both. He made a point to ignore them both. They were all idiots, thinking they could change anything by just wishing it wouldn't happen.

And Crosshair was an idiot for daring to think he could be extraordinary.

The next day, Crosshair earned the nickname “Misfire.”

Not long after that the bounty hunter, Cad Bane, took him away.

***

Crosshair couldn’t sleep.

The room was too quiet without Wrecker’s chest-rattling snores, too dark without the faint glow of Tech coding on his datapad, and even though Hunter was practically a ghost at night even when awake, Crosshair missed him, too.

Facing the fact sleep wasn’t going to find him, Crosshair slung his rifle over his shoulder, tip-toed down the hall past Bane's room, slid down the bannister, avoiding the creaky stairs altogether, and slipped soundlessly out the front door. The weather-beaten porch was barely held together by whatever rusted nails poked out of the cracked wood. He kept his steps light, but each footfall he could feel the threat of a creak beneath his boots. He leapt over the stairs entirely and landed in the dark soil with little more than a quiet squelch.

The moon was a meager sliver in the sky that didn't do much to illuminate the wheat field, but the way it moved in the wind reminded Crosshair of the black waves of a rarely calm nighttime Kaminoan sea. 

“Goin’ somewhere?”

Crosshair hadn't heard anyone approach. How was this possible? And yet, as he turned, he found that Bane had been sitting in a rocking chair in the darkest corner of the porch, only his red eyes, half-moons obscured by the brim of his hat, could be seen.

Crosshair refused to be rattled. He planted his feet firmly in the soil and and puffed up his narrow chest. “I’m going to scout the perimeter.”

“Got sensors for that, kid” Bane replied. “Ain’t a soul out there except for us n’ the Fabools.”

“Then I’ll go check on the Fabools.”

“You don’t gotta worry about them until tomorrow mornin’. Todo will show ya what to do.”

Crosshair had no response. Wrecker's clumsy question floated in his head.

Are they gonna retire Crosshair?”

He needed to do this. He needed to do...something.

Bane’s head tilted slightly.  “What?”

Crosshair didn’t respond.

I don’t want to be retired. I want to live… at least long enough to fight a real battle with Tech.

Bane let out a strained growled, his spurs jingling as his boots landed heavily on the porch. In the darkness his scarlet eyes cast harsh shadows against his scarred face. 

“You n’ me are gonna get along a lot better if ya stop bein’ so fuckin’ timid. You’re a soldier, right? You’re an elite sniper? You’re a tough guy? Then stop bein’ afraid of everything. I’m bein’ paid to train ya, but I may ask Jango for extra cuz I gotta go lookin' for yer spine first before I can teach ya anything.” Rows of sharp teeth gleamed in the dark. “Start talkin’.”

I want to live.

I want to live.

I want to live.

I-

“I…don’t want to be retired.”

The teeth vanished. The eyes dimmed. Bane leaned forward and into the meager moonlight, confusion etched into his scarred face. “What do ya mean ‘retired’?”

“If soldiers don’t meet their lieutenant’s expectations, they’re retired and their data gets erased. Radar and Pintsize were retired last year. No trace of them anywhere. Like they never existed.” Crosshair scrubbed his sweaty palms against his pant legs. He couldn’t stop talking if he wanted to, like trying to fight momentum down a steep hill. “Radar was redundant. Hunter’s tracking skills were sharper than his. Pintsize could barely hold a blaster with his tremors. The lieutenant said I’m not ‘extraordinary’ like the rest of my squad. I dropped my sniper rifle last test. They started calling me-”

The name seized in his mind. Tech’s magnified eyes glaring at him as if he was somehow holding onto the name. 

“That’s not who you are.”

“Jango knows about this? These retirements?”

Crosshair blinked. “What?”

“The retirements. Are they his decision or not?”

“It’s the lieutenant’s decision.” 

Bane rested his elbows on his knees, his unyielding glare boring into Crosshair. “Who’s this lieutenant? What’s his story?”

“A first generation clone. Lieutenant Pynk,” Crosshair thought about how to describe him. “He’s an asshole.”

Bane snorted. “Yeah, I gathered that much. So when you told me you’re the best in the facility that was his sarcasm I was hearing?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, fuck Pynk. We’ll show him what extraordinary looks like.” he extended his hand. “Gimme your rifle.”

Crosshair tightened the grip on his rifle strap. “Why?”

“Oh yer full of questions now, huh?” Bane sneered. “Official inspection, soldier. Give it here.”

With a small hiss of protest, Crosshair handed the rifle over.

Bane gave the rifle a little spin as if testing the weight. He looked through the scope. He ran his fingers over the stock and gave it a good shake.

“No wonder you can’t razzle and dazzle anyone,” Bane snickered. “This here’s a piece of bantha poodoo .”

“There’s nothing wrong with my rifle.” Crosshair said. “I clean it everyday. I calibrated it this morning. It’s fine.”

“Yeah?” Bane tossed the rifle back to Crosshair. “Prove it.”

Bane stood up, reminding Crosshair just how tall the Duros was compared to him. He was taller than Pynk and somehow that was comforting to know. In one swift movement, Bane hopped over the porch railing and with a crisp snap of his leather duster, he vanished around the side of the house.

Crosshair followed. At first it looked like Bane had simply disappeared, but upon a closer look, the side of the house was covered with a wide wooden trellis far too reinforced to withstand just the weight of creeper vines.  He looked up and saw a brief glimpse of the brim of Bane's hat on the roof. Crosshair slung the rifle over his shoulder and climbed. 

Some of the roof tiles were flatter and smoother than they appeared, leading to an ornamental bell tower half the size of Crosshair and far too small for Bane to fit. Still, Crosshair peeked into the bell tower and found...a short chute leading into a spy holodrama.

It was one part sniper tower, one part high-tech surveillance bowl filled with panels and devices similar to the simulation models Tech ran through to practice slicing communications and monitoring air traffic.

Bane sneered up at him. "C'mon in, kiddo."

“What is this?” Crosshair asked, hoisting himself into the chute and using the short ladder to climb down.

“Crow’s nest, watchtower, sniper tower, reinforced bunker, whatever we need it for. There are a couple of cots under the false floor if we get swarmed and have to lay low for a while.”

“Who would attack us?”

“The local authorities, mercs lookin' to even the score, raiders aimin' to steal the Fabools which can sell for a pretty credit on the black market.” Bane pressed a switch under his seat and the blank wall flipped over to reveal a pair  of LL-30 blaster pistols and a 773 Firepuncher rifle, the kind Crosshair had only seen in firearms databanks Tech sliced in for him.

Bane grabbed the rifle, charged it up, and checked the scope. “Don’t have to worry about any of that tonight though. Tonight, we’re doin’ some target practice...”

He dialed something into the control panel. A long opening slid 280 degrees around the tower at Crosshair’s eye-level, no taller than his fist, yet a screen flickered around the opening to reveal a holographic image of the surrounding area. 

“I can see everything,” he said.

“That’s the idea,” Bane replied. “Watch the field.” 

He flicked another switch and a blue light shimmered over the wheat field as the security shield went down. 

The grass started to quiver almost immediately. 

“What’s out there?” Crosshair asked, sliding the barrel of his rifle through the opening and peering through the scope. 

“Stalker lizards,” Bane said. “Lookin’ for a free meal inside that Fabool enclosure. Tell me what ya see.”

Crosshair toggled the heat sensor display on and off, watching the heat signatures from the lizards and the dark shadows of the landscape. “Lizards about a meter long coming from the southwest.” He scanned the enclosure next, remembering his training. Always check doors, corners, exits, and blindspots.

“We have blindspots.”

“Where’re the blindspots?” Bane asked, clearly a test. 

“South and East walls of the enclosure.”

“Already covered. Look again.”

The heat signatures didn’t change. The landscape didn’t change much either. Crosshair lowered his scope and leaned over the edge of the bell tower as if it would help. “How-”

Bane grabbed his jumpsuit and pulled him back. “Stay in here.” He pushed some monoculars into Crosshair’s hands. “Your little toy scope doesn’t have a range finder, use these.”

“It’s not a toy.”

“It surely is. You wanna be an extraordinary sniper? You gotta grow up n’ use a real sniper rifle. Now quit givin’ me that death glare n’ look at coords 233.32, 33.4.”

Fuming, Crosshair looked through the monoculars. “Coords 233.32, 33.4.” He repeated. 

Crosshair dialed in the coordinates and let the cursor on the display guide his movements.

There were several panels in various parts of the field. Each panel was painted with a shiny yellow number and embedded with silver reflective discs. “Are those mirrors?”

“Tell me which one to shoot.”

“What?”

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but yer askin’ too many questions. Just do it.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and shifted his scope from mirror to mirror until the caught the reflection of a stalker lizard climbing up the fabric wall of the enclosure.

“Panel two, center.”

A blaster shot rang out, it ricochet off the mirror and the low-power stun blast knocked the lizard off the enclosure, driving it back to the treeline.

“Again.”

Crosshair aligned his vision. Another panel. “Panel three, top left.”

The blaster bolt fired, ricocheted, and hit its target.

“Keep callin’ ‘em,” Cad said. "Faster."

“Six, low right. Four, center. Two, top center. Two, top left, no wait-”

“Two, middle left,” Cad corrected and took the shot. 

“How do you see them without the monoculars?” 

Bane snatched Crosshair’s monoculars and shoved the Firepuncher into his hands. “Built-in rangefinder in the scope. Give it a try.”

Bane’s rifle was heavier than his, but it also felt sturdier and a lot more powerful. He did a quick procedural check of the power cell, the scope angle, and acclimated himself to the weight before sliding the barrel through the opening.  The scope was alive with readings. Rangefinder, coordinates scale, the crosshairs shifted as it looked for moving targets and returned to center when there was nothing. 

“This is cheating,” Crosshair grumbled.

Bane snorted. “No such thing in this business. Besides, you can spend all the fancy credits in the galaxy and it don't make you the best. Yer greatest mod is yer eyes n' yer instincts. Now shut up n’ start firin’. Lizards are startin’ to swarm.”

The heat signatures doubled and Crosshair took shot after shot, chasing the lizards away.

“Good.” Bane said.

Good, but not extraordinary, Crosshair thought.

Two lizards scaled the corner of the enclosure. Crosshair hit the leader and it landed on its follower, scaring both away.

He waited for Bane to praise him. It was an impressive shot.

Bane remained silent.

Another lizard leapt from a panel onto the enclosure wall. He shot one mirror and it ricocheted off another mirror and hit the lizard between the eyes, sending it sprawling backwards before scurrying off. 

That was impressive too. He waited for the Lieutenant...no...he waited for Bane to comment.

Bane said nothing.

“He’s a good sniper…This squad needs someone extraordinary.”

He took another shot. The blaster bolt bounced off the mirror and hit the tail of the lizard. It kept climbing. 

He took another shot. The lizard dropped.

“Sloppy,” Bane said.

Crosshair’s bolt hit the edge of the enclosure, wool sizzled. The Fabools inside bleeted and honked irritably.

“Shit shot.”

“Are they gonna retire Crosshair?” Wrecker asked, eyes wet with tears.

Another miss.

“Worse,” Cad said.

And another.

“Shittier.”

He shot a mirror, it ricocheted into the night.

“Now yer takin’ yer failure out on the mirrors, huh?” Cad snickered. “Try again.”

The rifle felt heavier. Like the hands of a dozen laughing cadets and one unimpressed lieutenant was pushing it down. 

“Look out, here comes Misfire.”

The heat signatures began to multiply through the scope.

“What’re you doing?” Bane asked. “I said try again.”

Shit shot…worse…failure…

The trigger refused to move. 

“Misfire…Misfire…Misfire…”

“Dank farrick,” Bane swore and grabbed the rifle, firing five shots in quick succession. Blaster bolts soared and ricocheted off the mirrors, scaring away the rest of the lizards. He punched the control panel and the blue shimmering shield spread across the wheat field again. “What was that about? You forget how to shoot?”

Crosshair's hand twitched. He didn't move. He stared at the rifle.

“What the hell, kid?”

Crosshair couldn’t feel his fingers.

Hands shaking, he managed to hoist himself out of the bell tower.  By the time he got to the bottom of the trellis he realized he had left his own rifle behind.

Tears blurring his eyes, he raced back to the front of the house, crashing through the door and stomping up the stairs. 

He hid under the covers.

In a bed that wasn’t his.

Without the rifle that he didn’t deserve anyway.

***

The next morning, the house seemed empty. Bane wasn’t downstairs, but breakfast was waiting for Crosshair. A plate of bacon and eggs on a warming plate.

He ate quickly and guzzled the apple juice, politely pushing away the black caf and wondering if it was only there because he knew Fett was never far from a cup of caf.

He wandered outside to the sun sprinkling the wheat field with golden light. It made him squint. Climbing up the trellis, he poked his head in the bell tower. Neither rifle nor Bane was there.

His heart dropped. He felt sick. If Bane confiscated his rifle, then Crosshair was probably heading back home today. He hoped he’d be able to say bye to his brothers before they retired him. Then again, he didn’t get to say bye to Pintsize and Radar.

Climbing back down the trellis, he walked to the Fabool enclosure punching in the code he watched Bane use the day before. The gate swung open and before he could fall into a cuddle pile of Fabools, a stout droid flew directly at him, nearly slamming him against the gate.

“Who are you?!” The droid asked, round, unblinking yellow eyes flashing with suspicion, his thrusters hissing angrily as he floated in front of Crosshair’s face.

Crosshair pushed himself off the gate. “Bane told me to take care of the Fabools with Todo this morning.”

“I am Todo 360,” the droid declared, spindly arms flailing. “Did Mr. Bane order you to spy on me?” 

“No. If I was going to spy on you,” Crosshair said, dryly. “You’d never know it.”

The droid’s three-fingered hand touched his non-existent chin thoughtfully. “Oh. Hmm. That’s…a valid point. Fine, you may stay, but I am in charge here and you will tell Mr. Bane that I am doing a perfectly good job and I don’t need any help.”

“Fine by me.”

“We’ll start with feeding practices!” Todo announced, shooing away the Fabools who seemed to hate the sound of his thrusters. They rolled towards Crosshair and away from the noisy droid. It was hard to worry about retirement when there were a dozen soft, bouncing balloons begging for his attention, and Crosshair decided to enjoy the moment, taking time to pet each one while Todo did all the work. 

“Well, you’re already proving yourself to be an adequate assistant," Todo said, cleaning the water trough. "It takes me three times longer to fill their troughs when they try to bully me into their cuddle piles.” Todo floated towards the hose and dragged it across the enclosure, straining between words. “Your...reaction...to them...is...far…different…from…Mr. Bane’s…first…interaction.”

“What do you mean?” Crosshair asked.

“Oh, Mr. Bane was terrified of the Fabools when Fett brought him here. Practically climbed up on the fence to get away from them. He was scared of a lot of things back then though.”

Crosshair’s jaw dropped into his lap. “Bane? Cad Bane?”

“Well he wasn’t Mr. Bane back then. Just Cad. He hadn’t chosen a surname. Some Duros culture thing. I never understood it.”

“How long have you known Bane?”

“Many, many years.”

Crosshair cupped a Fabool chick in his hands and pressed it against his cheek. It snuffled at him, inquisitively. “Why was he afraid of the Fabools?”

“He full of paranoia when we met him,” Todo said, lightly. “Just distrustful of everything, in general.”

"But..." Crosshair stared dumbfounded at Todo. “How did he get so…”

“...so very 'Bane' ?” Todo asked.

“Yes.”

Todo held up an authoritative finger. “By eating his vegetables, little boy,” Todo hummed and floated towards the food sacks.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “What else do you know about Bane?”

“Oh, I know lots about him. I’ve known him for a very long time. I’m his most trusted confidant. I am sworn to secrecy though so I couldn't possibly share anything with you.”

Considering how much Crosshair learned about Bane in the thirty seconds he knew Todo he decided to just nod. “Okay.”

“But…” Todo floated forward, hands rubbing together conspiratorially. “...I do have a few juicy tidbits I could share if you’re interested.”

Crosshair made a mental note to never tell Todo 360 anything about himself. “Sure.”

“Oh goodie! It’s so rare I find someone to gossip with that aren’t Fabools. Bossk and Aurra tell Mr. Bane everything .”

Crosshair scooted forward, setting the chick down on the ground only to have two fabools bounce into his lap and a third bounce against his back. Somehow all of the Fabools reminded him of Wrecker, only cuter and less annoying. “What else do you know?”

“Hmm…oh! Here's something. He didn’t know how to use a blaster when he met Mr. Fett. Mr. Fett taught him everything he knew about being a mercenary.”

“I figured that much.”

“But did you know that Mr. Fett and Mr. Bane engaged in a bar fight before Mr. Fett left for his secret project?”

“Why?”

“Is it not obvious? Mr. Bane idolized Mr. Fett, followed him around like a fabool chick bounces after a feed bag. When Mr. Fett left mercenary work, he left Mr. Bane behind. Mr. Bane took it very personally, but I think it was the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Why?” Crosshair pressed.

“Because that is when Mr. Bane found that cool confidence in himself. Mr. Fett was always there to lift him up, reward his victories, and tutor his failings. Mr. Bane had to figure out how to exist without Mr. Fett and it was then I noticed that confidence grow like a hmm…like a cactus blossom! He went from Mr. Fett’s shadow to being quite the opposing figure himself.”

Crosshair sat quietly, absorbing this fact. It was hard to imagine the Bane today cowering from Fabools or needing help from anyone.

Or starving for someone else's approval.

When he thought of Bane, he thought of the easy stance, arms relaxed and thumbs hanging over his belt buckle, a toothpick casually moving between his teeth, round eyes behind hooded lids that could see through a person with more accuracy than a scope. That nonchalant drawl, the cheeky turn of phrase, unrattled, and prickly.  

All the things Crosshair wanted to be. 

“Has Bane ever had an apprentice before?”

“Not to my knowledge. Mr. Fett’s request is unusual, but Bane would do anything for-”

“Kid, get up.”

Crosshair startled, whipping his head back to find Bane leaning against the wall, arms folded, toothpick rolling lazily in his teeth. How long had he been in the enclosure? A Fabool snuffled at his boot, lost interest than bounce against Crosshair's head.

“Come with me.” Bane left the enclosure without another word.

Crosshair didn’t move at first. Not because he was covered in Fabools, but because he knew this was the end.

Retirement…

He’d finally find out what happened to Pintsize and Radar.

“Nice to meet you, Todo,” he said, standing up and gently rolling the fabools away who happily bounded towards the droid.

“Oh! Well nice to meet you too, um… ‘Kid’.”

“Sit down,” Bane said, pointing to the rocking chair on the porch before going into the house.

Crosshair sank onto the flower-patterned cushioned seat, trying and failing to rest his boots on the railing. It was too far away. He sighed and drew his legs up, hugging his knees. He watched the skies for a ship to come and pick him up. 

Bane came out a few minutes later and sat in the other rocking chair, boots landing with a jingle of his spurs on the railing. Crosshair’s rifle was in his hands. It took all of Crosshair’s self-control not to lunge for it, hug it, and promise he would never abandon it again.

He hugged his knees tighter.

“Doesn’t take a genius to know why you ran out last night,” Bane began, tilting his hat up to look Crosshair in the eyes. “You crave praise like a dying man thirstin’ of jocola . I don’t reckon you get a lot of positive reinforcement at the facility n’ ya know what? Tough shit. The sooner ya realize the galaxy ain’t gonna give ya validation is the day ya actually become the extraordinary sniper I know ya can be.

“This is the last and only time I’m gonna say this," Bane continued. "Yer real fuckin’ good, and yer gonna be the best. I ain't ever wrong about shit like this. Now...you hold onto that praise because after this conversation, I ain’t gonna be nice to ya anymore. Yer gonna get pushed n' pushed hard, yer gonna get shaken, and I’m gonna do everythin’ I can to get ya past this bullshit worry about what everyone else thinks. Maybe you’ll hate me, hell ya might even shoot me in the back, but it’ll be worth it because it’s gonna send ya past that kraytshit extraordinary standard Pynk’s got for ya.”

Bane offered the rifle back to Crosshair. “I promise, by the time ya get back home, yer gonna be tougher than a reek’s horn n’ twice as deadly.”

The moment Crosshair’s fingers touched his rifle, he knew it was augmented. It felt like a Firepunch. Better scope, heavier stock, a weapon for a real sniper. He peered through the scope. 

“Whoa,” Crosshair murmured, scanning the field with his scope, toggling between more scanners than he knew existed. “Wizard.”

“Listen kid, in this galaxy there’ll be plenty of people tryin’ to put you down, break your spirit, break your bones. Only person you gotta trust is yourself. Yer all ya need, you understand me?”

Crosshair realized it was a lesson Bane had to learn when Jango left for Kamino. It would be a lesson Crosshair would carry with him the rest of his life.

Even if Bane was hired to train him, to be this mentor, it meant something to Crosshair. "Understood."

“Go clean up. Food’s in an hour. Beef stew minus the carrots. After that you start yer real trainin’. Deal?”

Crosshair hopped up, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. “Deal.”

“One more thing, kid.”

“Yeah?”

“What did you and Todo talk about this morning?”

Crosshair didn’t bother lying. “You.”

Bane growled quietly. “That gossiping little shit. What did he say?”

Though Crosshair didn’t intend to lie, he also didn’t feel like ratting Todo out. So he was honest about the thing that mattered most. 

“He said you’re better off without Fett around.” 

The words seemed to splash cold water on Bane’s face. The mercenary  looked away, out to the golden field, too bright in the noonday sun. 

“Is it true?” Crosshair asked. 

Bane’s glare didn’t skewer Crosshair as sharply as he expected. In fact, it looked like he may even answer.

“Target practice starts at dusk. Bring your A-game, kid. Not holding back on you. Now get outta here.”

And with that Bane sank into his rocking chair tilted his hat forward over his eyes.

The conversation was over.

Crosshair was happy he asked.

[sitp-recs]

hi liv, long time follower first time asker! ☺️

i have a LOT of spare time on my hands so i’ve been reading a lot of fanfiction recently (like, a lot, don’t ask). i’ve read several fics recently that i honestly didn’t expect to like that much but i ended up *loving*. SO i wanted to ask, do you have 5 (or whatever) fics that you enjoyed more than you expected to?

(p.s. thanks so much for running this blog. it’s one of the first tumblrs i found when i got back into fandom and all your opinions and recs have taken me to some wonderful places 💜)

Hello friend, welcome to my ask box haha and thank you for this amazing ask! I’m happy to know you’ve been enjoying the blog and recs 💗 I love this ask btw, it’s a great feeling to fall unexpectedly and utterly in love with a story you didn’t think you’d be too invested in. This happened with one of my all-time faves, Far From the Tree by aideomai, and with other long fics or stories exploring themes that aren’t on my priority list or aren’t my usual jam. I listed 5 of those happy surprises below (tried to focus on fics I don’t see being recced often) and am very curious to know which ones surprised you in that way. I know you said you’ve been reading A LOT and I shouldn’t ask, but maybe just a lil teaser with five faves?? 👀

1. Timecode by Rasborealis (M, 73k) - my rec

Harry Potter has been dead for two years, and Draco would laugh in the face of anyone claiming differently. Well, anyone but Hermione Granger.

2. Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (E, 81k) - my rec

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

3. He Comes Like a Thunderstorm by @korlaena (E, 140k)

Draco is doing his best to balance the life he wants to live and the life he’s forced to live. He’s nearing the tail-end of a long, post-war probation when Harry Potter crashes back into his life with all the grace of a charging Erumpent, breaking through his carefully constructed rules and routine.

4. Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own.

5. The Secret Keeper by @the-fools-errand (M, 225k) - my rec

On Halloween 1981, Albus Dumbledore made a decision that would change the course of history, concealing Harry Potter’s survival at the hands of Lord Voldemort underneath a Fidelius Charm. But when Harry comes of age in the Muggle world, Dumbledore realises too late that the fate of the world may depend on a boy who has never held a wand.

Bonus: Survival of the Species (E, 47k) by my friend @romaine2424, a Veela!Draco banger!

Draco approaches Harry on the 9 ¾ platform, after their sons have boarded the Hogwarts Express, and invites him over for tea. The discussion they have leads them on an adventure that neither could have expected. There be dragons! HPDH compliant but before any other canon info had been released.

[whore4sherlockholmes]

It Started With a Whisper

Summary: You and Stephen have been sneaking around for a while. At the same time though, you had never made anything official. There were no boundaries or rules, meaning you couldn't get jealous if another female held his attention. That thought didn't stop you from feeling jealous though. When you spotted him being extra friendly while catching up with his ex Christine, you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. This all led up to one of the most eventful Stark parties in history. Tony claims "it even tops the whole Ultron situation".

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

tags: Fem pronouns, little bit of angst, fluff, lots of alcohol

It was a normal Thursday afternoon, you were on your way to the best coffee shop in New York to pick up an order for the team as your brother, Tony, had asked you.

You had your airpods in, listening to "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac. As you approached the coffee shop you took one ear bud out and pulled the door open, but something (or someone) caused your whole body to freeze up.

It was Stephen. The same mystical wizard that you have been fooling around with for almost a month. Sitting there all pretty with the biggest smile on his face while he caught up with his ex, Christine.

Now, you couldn't cause a scene because, he wasn't yours. And although you were very aware of this, it still hurt you.

Seeing the fact that neither of them had noticed you, you proceeded to turn on your heel and exit the café as quickly as possible. Popping your other earbud back in and blasting whatever music that played first.

You were angry, hurt, confused, and just completely overwhelmed. Stephen was never yours. You can't get mad at him over this. You thought, as you quickly walked to your car. It didn't matter if he wasn't yours because if that was the case, then isn't he just using you? No, no, no. This is all your own fault for hiding your true feelings in the first place.

Once you made it to the compound with no coffees, you realized you were going to have to think of an explanation. You couldn't tell anyone about what had just happened because, they don't know about you and Stephen anyways. No one does.

You elected to lie and say the coffee shop was closed if somebody were to ask, but if nobody was to be seen, you were bee-lining it to your bedroom.

To your surprise, you managed to dodge everyone and successfully make it to your bedroom unnoticed (at least you thought so).

As soon as you attempted to lay down and let all your cooped up emotions out, a knock sounded from your bedroom door. You got up and opened it revealing an unamused Tony.

"Hey kid, you okay? Where are the coffees?" Tony asked, slightly concerned at the fact that you didn't stop by the lab to see what him and Banner were up to.

"Yeah, fine. The shop was closed, so I figured we could just make some here instead." You explained nonchalantly.

"Oh? Okay... I'll see you around then, I'll be in the lab. Let me know if you wanna order take out for dinner. We can get your fav." He said before turning around.

You let out a sigh and closed your door, turning the lock and returning to your bed of sorrow and self loathing.

The more you thought about the situation, tears began to well up in your eyes. Once you noticed this, you tried to shake them away but it was a hopeless attempt. You laid there and sobbed for a good 4 hours, then you drifted asleep due to how tired your eyes felt.

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

You woke up at exactly 5:45 in the morning, completely confused. You hadn't set an alarm or anything, but you did fall asleep super early. Taking that into consideration, you got up and started your day knowing damn well you weren't going to fall back asleep.

You threw some spandex shorts on and almost put one of Stephens' graphic T's on until you were forced to remember the events of yesterday. Bitterly, you shoved the T-shirt back into your draw and put a cropped T-shirt on instead. You put your sneakers on and headed to the gym.

You started with some stretching and light cardio to warm up. You did a few deadlifts and shoulder presses and then quickly moved to the heavy bag. You began letting all your anger out on the punching bag throwing jabs, left hooks, and upper cuts like your life depended on it.

You thought about Stephens' stupid pretty little smile and threw a right hook so hard that you knocked the bag off the chains.

"Jesus doll, what's got you all worked up so early this mornin'?" Steve said while approaching you.

"Bad dream," You replied dryly as you turned to face him.

"You sure? Do I need to break someone's legs?" Steve teased.

"No Steve everything's all right, thank you for checking up on me though," You offered him a quick smile and made your way to the kitchen to start breakfast since it was already 7 am.

It was a regular thing for you to make breakfast for the team every morning. You were always the first person up because you never really slept well. This morning you decided to make french toast and some hash browns, with a little bit of fruit on the side.

By the time you had finished it was around 7:45. Buck, Steve, and Sam had already joined you for breakfast. Eventually the rest of the team got up and made their way to the kitchen as well. You all ate and bantered before heading off to start some training.

As you prepared yourself for some hand-to-hand combat training with Nat, she reminded you that your brother was hosting a party tonight. The reminder made you feel a little better, at least you have something to look forward to now.

"Everyones gonna be there, Tony said it's gonna be the biggest party he's ever had the privilege to host," Nat rambled on.

"Maybe I'll find someone to entertain me for the night," You joked.

You knew very well that you couldn't replace Stephen with anybody, but who says you can't try to have at least a little fun. Just fun that wouldn't involve getting laid.

Once you finished training with Nat, you went straight to your room to shower and find the perfect outfit for tonight. Something suggestive, something scandalous but classy. You were already picturing it in your head.

Once you got out of the shower, you dried and curled your hair, then you put some natural make up on with the prettiest pair of lashes. As you admired your work in the mirror, you heard your phone go off.

A text. From Stephen. Great.

-Which suit should I wear tonight? Thinkin of going with the classic Armani.

You thought about responding, then decided to ignore the text. He doesn't deserve your time nor does he deserve your opinion. Okay maybe i'm being a bit too harsh, this is partly my fault as well as his. You thought.

"Oh well," You said to yourself as you began pulling your dress from the closet. It was perfect, red, short, tight, and it had mesh sleeves. You paired the dress with a pair of black stilettos.

As you were giving yourself a once over in the mirror, you heard your phone go off again.

-Or not? Are you gonna be there?

Stephen. Again. Take the hint man I really do not wanna speak to you right now, You thought before turning your phone off and heading towards the living room to see if anybody needed help setting anything up.

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

"Might I say, you look absolutely stunning m'lady," You turned around to see Loki in the kitchen grabbing some drinks.

He looked damn good himself in his all black suit and tie. How did you even walk past him in the first place?

"You don't look too bad yourself mischief man," You teased.

Stephen had always hated Loki, and on top of that, he also despised how close you were with him... OH MY GOD. It was as if a lightbulb had went off in your head. Loki is the perfect candidate to be friendly with tonight, god were you excited for this.

"Y/n? Helloooooo, my little midgardian, what are you in space or something?" Loki groaned in attempt to get your attention.

"Huh? Sorry. Zoned out," You said.

"What's on your mind love?" Loki almost looked concerned.

"Oh nothing, just super excited for later! I'd love to spend some more time with you tonight, Loki. For now I'm gonna go see if Ton' needs any help," You said innocently.

"Alright, i'll find you in a few." He smiled bashfully.

As you continued on towards the living room, it had seemed as if the party had already started. Shit, it's 7:30. People are definitely already here. You prepared yourself for a lot of small talk and, seeing Stephen, before walking through the double doors.

"Y/n!!!!!" Tony shouted from across the room, "You look great," he said making his way to you before tugging you to the side of the room.

"Thank you? What's up Ton'?" You asked.

"WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL ME YOU WERE MESSING AROUND WITH THE WIZARD," Tony whisper shouted.

Your brain literally short circuited at the question. Nobody knows except you and Stephen, How coul- Oh my fucking god. Your train of thought was cut off by the sight of Stephen eyeing you from across the room with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

"We're not. I don't know why he would say such a thing when he was quite literally just on a coffee date with his ex," You spat out.

"What? Kid I'm sorry, wait is that why you didn't get coffee yesterday? Do you want me to kick him out? I will," Tony rambled but you were quick to cut him off.

"No Tony, It's not a big deal. I'm just gonna show him what he's missing," You said with a grin on your face before turning on your heel to find Loki.

"Wha- How are you gonna- Oh whatever." Tony gave up on his interrogation and made sure to give Stephen a look of disgust before greeting the newly arrived guests.

As you were walking to the kitchen to find Loki, you didn't notice Stephen trailing behind you. Sneaky little bastard.

Once you reached the kitchen, it appeared to be empty but right as you were about to turn around you felt two hands gently grasp your waist.

"Hey, I was just on my way to find you! What are you doing?" Loki asked.

"Was just looking for you," you said softly while turning to face him, gently placing your hands on his chest.

"Welll you found me, c'mon now let's go have some fun," Loki cheered before leading the both of you down the hall.

Stephen quickly ducked behind a shelve to avoid blowing his cover. He didn't find your interaction with Loki surprising but, he definitely didn't like it. I mean what were you doing? Why did Loki put his hands so low on your waist? He kind of assumed you guys would have been going together... And why had you ignored his texts? AND why had Tony given him the death stare after talking with you?

Stephen needed to talk to you immediately. He didn't like being confused for one, and for two, he genuinely thinks he's falling for you. He's not going to let anybody get in his way.

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

All the guest had made it to the party by now, it was insanely crowded. Luckily you've stuck by Loki's side and he's stuck by yours since you walked back in. He knows these things can be kind of overwhelming for you sometimes.

You lost Stephen in the crowd and, to be honest, you weren't really mad about it. You've been having a great time with Loki.

"Let's go dance!" You yelled over the music.

Loki happily obliged and grabbed your hand, leading you to the dance floor. It was nice because it was a little less crowded in this area anyways. Everybody was too busy drinking and catching up with each other to be dancing.

Before you could even start dancing Loki handed you something that looked like alcohol, Asgardian alcohol? WORDDDDD. You thought without questioning him.

"Be careful with that, just take a small sip it's very strong." Loki instructed.

You took a reasonable sip and went to take a second before he snatched it from your hands.

"I said one Y/n," Loki tried to remain serious with you until you started giggling, causing him to break out into laughter as well.

The song "Poison" by Bel Biv Devoe, began playing and more people joined you and Loki on the dance floor. You turned around so your back was against Loki's chest, his hands fell low to your hips, and you two continued dancing like that without a care in the world for a few more songs.

Stephen was fuming, man he could not wait to tear into you. Why would you do this to him? He thought you guys had something going on. He continued to watch the two of you until he saw you move your hips against Loki.

Stephen slammed his martini down and began making his way to you. He watched your smile drop as you noticed he was marching up to you.

"That's enough," Stephen said as he reached for your wrist.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Loki asked defensively.

"It's absolutely none of your concern. Asshole," Stephen hissed.

"What do you want Stephen?" You slurred your words slightly.

"I need to talk to you," He said annoyed.

"Well, why can't you just say it here?" Loki interrupted.

"I said, it was none of your fucking business." Stephen seethed out.

At this point all three of you had half the parties attention and things were only getting louder.

"Speak to me like that again and see where it gets you Strange," Loki moved to stand in front of you.

"Yeah ok bud," Stephen replied, right before dropping him through a portal to who knows where.

"STEPHEN?? WHAT THE FUCK." You yelled.

Tony immediately came running over, along with Thor, Cap, Buck, and Sam.

"What the fuck are you doing Strange?" Tony spat out.

"I'm trying to have a civil conversation with your sister," Stephen said dryly.

"Where is Loki?" Thor asked stepping up to Stephen.

"Are you alright Y/n?" Sam asked you

"What are you up to Doctor?" Cap questioned Stephen.

"I'll kill him Y/n just say the word," Buck exclaimed.

"Can you guys just calm the fuck down? He's fine, He's in the mirror dimension because he was getting in my way. Now, I can send all of you there as well if you'd like," Stephen deadpanned.

"Maybe you should use that big brain of yours and think about why she doesn't want to speak to your sorry ass," Tony said while getting in Stephens face.

"Both of you cut the shit. Stephen, come with me." You ordered him.

Stephen immediately stopped what he was doing and followed you to the corner of the room.

"Okay please do enlighten me on what the fuck just happened," Stephen asked impatiently.

"What? Me dancing with Loki? Or the fact that you sent him to the mirror dimension? Or the fact that you caused a fucking scene?" You seethed. "You're not mine. In fact, you made that quite obvious yesterday while you were enjoying coffee with your fucking ex. I do not belong to you, I owe you not a single ounce of loyalty." You finished.

Stephen looked mortified. How did you know about that for one, and for two, It was nothing more than two friends catching up. Stephen has accepted he can't have Christine and he doesn't even want her anymore. He wants you. But it seems he might have fucked up pretty badly.

"Y/n please, listen to what I have to say," Stephen practically begged you.

"You've got five minutes Strange," You said dryly.

"I-I know what it looks like, okay? And I don't blame you for assuming it was something more, but... it wasn't. You don't have to believe me on this but I asked her to meet me there so we could talk about you.." He trailed off, refusing to make eye contact.

"What?" You questioned eagerly.

"I uh, I needed advice, because I was um thinking about making things official between us.." Stephen explained solemnly.

You didn't know what to say. You felt like the biggest idiot, AND, the biggest asshole. EVER. Your brain felt like it stopped working, the party conversation faded away and all you could hear was the music.

"Everybody Talks", Neon Trees.

It started with a whisper,

"I'm sorry," You whispered softly.

Tears began to swell up and threatened to spill over. Stephen looked up at you and his heart shattered at seeing you this worked up.

"It might be a crazy request but, would you still be interested in being mine?" You said even quieter this time. Stephen still caught it though.

And that was when I kissed her.

Stephen cupped your cheeks and leaned in to capture your lips in the most reassuring kiss. You moved up on your tiptoes while wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Stephens hand fell dangerously close to your ass, but you pulled away.

"Tony with bury you alive if you get too touchy, help me out and try to stay out of conflict for the rest of the night." You reasoned.

"I was thinking about ditching this place anyways, only if your willing to join me of course." He flirted.

"Sounds tempting," You teased back.

"Just say yes," Stephen said sarcastically.

"Sir, yes sir," You stated while stepping back and saluting him as if he was a drill sergeant.

"Oh cut it out you smartass," Stephen said before opening a portal and throwing you over his shoulder.

Lets just say, you had a very... long night.

Stephen had tugged you close to him, his arms around your waist, drawing absent minded shapes on your back.

"Stephen, I dunno why but... I feel like we forgot something. Like something important. I can't figure out what it is though, and it's driving me crazy.." You mumbled into his chest.

"Hmm.." Stephen took a moment to think.

Suddenly you both shot up right and gasped.

"LOKI," You both shouted at each other.

OKAYYYYY so I wrote this a WHILE ago and I felt like it was a mess so I never posted it. BUTTT I tried to make a few revisions without changing the whole story line so I hope you enjoy! Please if you have ideas don’t be afraid to request them, or leave some constructive criticism for me! Id really appreciate feedback so I can improve my weaknesses as a writer.

[oneforthemunny]

that photo you reblogged of wayne, eddie and vega is so funny

do you think when she first started exhibiting her wildness eddie went to wayne and was like ? help ? and wayne was like ! thats what you were like !

so when kensie was little (I know the ask is about vega but I promise it makes sense lol) she’s like extremely emotional all the time. stage five clinger, separation anxiety to the max, and she’s just got a lot of big emotions and big feelings. she cries at everything.

neither one of you really know what to do, but you’re a little bit more understanding. maybe it’s more so because it’s maternal instincts and she’s clinging to you all the time so it’s easier for you to be understanding and soft with her, but eddie starts to get frustrated. he’s a new parent, relatively, and he’s not a perfect parent by any means, and it’s hard being a parent. especially when he can’t understand why she’s crying so much.

wayne’s out visiting, because he always is, and kensie starts crying over something or another, something eddie thinks is just absurd and he kinda gets huffy with her for all of .5 seconds before wayne’s about to slap him upside the head.

he takes kensington, and is really gentle and calm, talks to her sweetly and she calms down. eddie’s like ??? how did you do that. “you gotta listen to her, boy. don’t try to rationalize s’much. listen.”

“but she loses her shit over the smallest things that are no big deal-“

“to you.” wayne narrows his eyes at him. “they’re not a big deal, to you. you know better, understand more because you can. she’s a baby still, ed. she doesn’t understand everything and some things are new and upsetting, and that’s ok. you were the same way… ‘til your daddy got tired of it.”

that sends eddie over the edge and from then on, he tries to listen instead of getting frustrated or rationalizing. wayne’s got this very calm, steady energy (zarah inherited it). like he’s very go with the flow, but also knowledgeable, and he helps eddie a lot as a parent.

from then on, eddie goes to wayne all the time. befkre, he wouldn’t do it as much because he felt like a ‘bad parent’ but really, it was helpful to everyone.

then along came miss vega jo. she’s a whoopsie. wayne’s older and she’s unlike any of the other girls, including the twins. she’s fucking insane. literally unhinged from baby times. you think it’s because of the age gap with her sisters, that she grew up around them, but whatever it is, she’s crazy.

eddie’s like whatever I can handle her, but she’s on another level. like she’s a bad ass kid when she’s little lmao. like very bad and he’s kinda like??? what do I do when she’s this insane??? and she’s sweet, but she’s just high energy all the time… with him lol. she like lives to torment eddie bc she thinks it’s hilarious.

then with you she’s a terror but she’s sweet, and with wayne she’s a different child entirely. calm and sweet and gentle.

eddie really is like how the fuck do you know how to do this?? and wayne is like??? she’s you.

“I was never that bad, wayne, my dad would’ve beat me.”

“boy, you were worse. you used to talk and talk and run and get into anything and everything. you never sat down- you still don’t!”

and eddie’s pouty like it isn’t true but… it is. and really, vega thrives off reaction. so when she does something chaotic and eddie has a naturally dramatic reaction, like he always does, that just fuels her fire. plus, he’s got chaos just radiating off of him naturally.

wayne tells him just to calm down. be calm with her, let yourself be relaxed, and she’ll match that. sure enough, she’s less of a terror when he does. she will talk through the entire movie, but she stays sitting next to eddie, asking a million questions that he answers calmly to keep her attention.

wayne is a wizard with kids and eddie’s thankful for him <3

[regheart]

What are your headcanons or thoughts on Remus and Lily’s friendship?

thank you for the ask!

remus and lily are in my top 5 favorite characters, i loved them and i love to put them together, but i also think they were never truly close to each other, or at least that's what canon points to

now, the reason why we even ask ourselves this questions is to read and write fanfiction. and i tend to see prequels, sequels and missing moments as fitting into somewhere in the range of "the most likely thing to happen under this circumstances" and "barely possible", the latter being often the more interesting choice, and if we have to read or write about it, we better make it interesting

so, a list of headcanons for remus and lily, not the most likely but the most fun:

lily got along with remus better than with any of the other boys during the first five years of school

they were very weird kids. before hogwarts, remus had no friends and lily's only friend was severus, making it that he had a very weak sense of normality and she had disproportional interest for the abnormal

muggle culture was shared common ground even if neither of them was too versed in it. they liked the beatles and western movies and christmas songs because that's what they had a home whenever they came back

i also suspect they'd both watch the odd episode of doctor who but i don't have any strong opinions because i've never seen a single episode

they did enjoy monty python's flying circus though

big readers, both of them. fairy tales, children's classics and as they grew up they would swap books and recommendations

later on, when the order had remus out for months and the potters went into hiding, they'd swap annotated books and leave their own commentary in the margins for the other one to read. they made through quite a list like that, james read only one book but it was don quixote

she was glad he was pointed out as prefect, even if it was just on the account of not giving james and sirius any institutional power

they argued together for the days they wanted to be free of prefect duties and never asked for the other's reason

they were very clever! steady, organized and hardworking, not necessarily like hermione, but they took value in studying magic because neither of them took it for granted and they felt genuine pleasure in learning

james&sirius and severus were obsessive creative forces and remus and lily balanced that out in a way, remus by directing focus to one task at a time and making sure it was recorded somewhere, lily by bringing out possible issues that sev overlooked when he went tunnel vision about anything

(severus was a good, practical potioneer, but lily had more whim. she recommended adding things that would correct the taste or the smell)

lily helped remus with his potions homework sometimes. not during class, because she and sev were in another world entirely and then remus didn't take newt level potions

in exchange he'd let her copy from his defense and history of magic notes when she didn't have the time to do it herself, the two subjects he did slightly better on

they sat next to each other, but in separate groups for herbology and would often gossip during class

lily had a grandmother in wales and remus' parents lived permanently there after he started school so they'd sometimes make small talk about beautiful or interesting places they'd seen

i like to think that at least once they took the same train home for whatever reason it was

the reason why lily was so dismissive of severus' theory of remus being a werewolf was because, having most of her views of wizarding world formed by him and then never facing that specific issue since the mainstream opinion was against werewolves, she thought remus didn't match the profile. when the time came that she had sufficient evidence, she questioned her views of werewolves and not her views of remus

once she and james were head girl and head boy they'd patrol the corridors with remus sometimes and the two of them would show her some of the secret passages they had found

the two of them and sirius read the newspaper cover to cover every morning and discussed it religiously (james only read the main story and the sports section, but he was somehow very aware of everything. he also trusted their opinions)

lily made sure remus ate well when he came back from the werewolf camps

she was his fiercest advocate in the order, even after he and sirius suspected each other

the first ones to laugh at peter's jokes

lily got a lot closer to sirius after she and james started to date, but she always that ease with being around remus. if he were asked, he'd list her as his best friend after the marauders, at any point in life

something they recognized about each other was fighting to choose kindness whenever they could

[crochetedblorbos]

"Look, she's well steep."

Character Name: Montgomery “Three-Card Monty” Barker

Fandom: Realms of Peril & Glory (@realmspod), Liminal London campaigns [Podcast]

Played By: Naomi Clarke (@naomithinksit)

Yarn Used: Hair: CraftSmart Value - Toasted Almond Skin: CraftSmart Value - Taupe Birthmark/Mouth: Caron Lava Cakes - Sour Cherry Tracksuit: Red Heart Super Saver - Spring Green Zipper: CraftSmart Value - Heather Grey Shoes: CraftSmart Value - Tomato Soles: CraftSmart Value - White

Basic pattern here.

Monty, our beloved chicken nugget wizard. I fell in love with this kid pretty much from the moment I heard him (him being Naomi’s creation helped with that) and he’s just…adorable. And after Episode 4 of Loose Change (the fourth mystery), Great Googly Mooglies, that boy needs all the hugs. I hauled ass to get him finished in time for Episode 5 (I am writing this paragraph prior to actually finishing him, so we’ll see if I manage since it’s, uh, Sunday night). [Crafter’s note: I did not. I finished him two weeks later, in time for Episode 7.] He differs from the base pattern as follows:

Shoes: I actually used a different color for his soles this time! Like with Joseph’s, I did the soles in white, then switched to red for the body of the shoes. However, I did use white for the decreases at the toes in the first round of decreasing the shoes to give that white toe cap that’s so distinctive on Converse and Converse knockoffs (per Naomi, everything Monty owns is a knockoff). I also added an extra round of decreases to make longer flat tops to the shoes and skinnier ankles. The shoes went up to R9 like that, and then: R10: Ch 1, sc in front loops of first 5 sc, sl st in next 2 sc, sc in next 5 sc, sl st in first sc (12 sc).

Tracksuit: I asked on the Light & Tragic Discord, and Naomi was kind enough to inform me that Monty wears high-tops and tucks the hem of his tracksuit into them. I also wanted the pants to have a kind of baggy effect. So once I joined the tracksuit yarn, I chained 2, then did 2dc in the back loop of the first sc in R9, then dc in the back loop of the next 10 sc in R9, then 2dc in the back loop of the final sc in R9, sl st in first dc (15dc). I then continued as normal. I used the same method for his shirt as I did for Joseph and Gerry, just a bit higher up when I started the hemline. I also formed his torso the same way as I did Gerry’s—square most of the way up and then starting the decreases at the very end. Neither of these decisions were intentional, I just wasn’t paying attention to how many rounds I’d done. For the zipper, I tied three knots on top of one another to make a zipper pull, then embroidered in straight lines up and down either side of the zipper track before doing a cross stitch up the middle.

Head: Naomi said in S4E5 that Monty “had one of those big birthmarks” and I knew I had to include it. I didn’t really plan the defined edges of the birthmark, just changed color back and forth as seemed appropriate. Came out a bit Ziggy Stardust, but you know, it’s Monty. I also used safety eyes for him again. Think I put them in too far up too soon, because stitching around them was a pain in the ass, but it worked out.

Hair: I, uh. Forgot to start adding his hair in as low as I usually do, so his hairline is a bit higher in the back than normal, which is one of the reasons there are no pictures from behind, the other being that for some reason the seam got really jagged up the back (I’m guessing I wasn’t counting carefully enough and my joins got off). I’d meant for him to have a textured stitch to his hair, but I got to that point while I was away from home and didn’t have my book with all the stitches in it with me, so I improvised. I gave him a fun little swoosh of hair at the front. Turns out I was overcomplicating things with Hux’s and Mini’s hair. There’s a legitimate stitch called the hair stitch or fur stitch that does exactly what I was trying for on them with significantly less stress, so I used that here for Monty. Gives him kind of a cheeky look and I love it.

Arms: I used the same method I used for Joseph. I only stuffed up to R20 so he would have a little more flexibility in the shoulders.

[zeherili-ankhein]

My Opinion on certain dead wizards Part – 1

Regulus Black:

Was he a complete saint?

No. He was from a blood supremacist household and had same believes as them for most of his life. He idolized Voldemort and and joined the death eaters, which I think was on his own choice. But he did change his views later on his life and atleast tried to stop Voldemort.

Died in a cave alone drinking potion that shows you your worst trauma and making you feel guilty and then being dragged by dead brainless creatures into a lake. One of the worst ways to die imo.

But was he a complete douchbag?

Now here we have to keep in mind how a person's family background and views can shape that person's own thought process.

It is clearly obvious his parents had fed him all the muggleborn hate things since he was a baby, even more since Sirius turned out to be a rebel. So ofcourse it must have had a huge impact on him.

Clearly he grew up to become the perfect pureblooded son his family had taught/wanted him to be, and to a certain point he even agreed with his family.

Did he deserve redemption?

Yes. Even though he had practically been a Voldy fanboy since forever because of all the above factors, in the one year he spend being a death eaters he had s change of heart. Most probably witnessing all the horrible inhuman shits they actually did.

Something to be noticed – It is canon the process of creating an horcrux is so disgusting the editor vomitted.

Regulus had found out about the horcrux and must have done enough research to know how they are made. So he atleast had his own morals of what is wrong and what is right. He was a Slytherin, and Slytherins are known for following their own rules.

So he did what he could have done at that time and sacrificed himself. Would he have lived should he have been given a second chance? Yes.

(Here I am doing a little comparison with Snape)

His realisation came a lot earlier than it did to Snape. Whose only motivation to be in the light side was because he felt guilty for Lily's death.

But Regulus left the dark side on his own and not because of someone or something. Sure Kreacher was there, but Kreacher had already returned safely and there is no canon proof he did all this just because of his house elf.

I think he deserved redemption more that Snape.

Do I like the fanon version of him?

Debatable. Some of the versions of him in fanon makes sense and I have no problem with them. But some are straight annoying.

Portraying him as a helpless boy who was forced by his family into all the bad things he did or a edgy ray of light boy just takes away the entire point of his redemption.

He will only deserve redemption when he have already spent some of his years being a shitbag.

Regulus x James?

Ohh God!! NO PLEASE NO! I can go on for ages about why don't like them together.

Like if you ship this stay 5 km away from me.

It's just not in his ( or neither James') character to fall for each other.

What makes you think an initially arrogant so called 'blood traitor' Griffindor who had no problems with werewolves or muggleborns will love a initial blood supremacist who believed in Voldemort's views? And vice-versa. That also in their teenage years, the prime time of showing both of their different values.

It's just so annoying.

His relationship with Sirius?

I think they used to be quite close when they were kids but for sure had lots of arguments because of all the Sirius being a Gridfindor rebel thing and him believing his family values.

Might have atleast felt a little bad when Sirius left home and they deserved a chance to reconcile.

Do I love him?

Yes. He had so much potential to be a complex redeemable character if he was written about more. He was grey and that's what makes him great. Atleast in my eyes.

He is one of my favourite characters.

Do I have any headcannons about him?

Ummm quite a few, like

I like the idea of him and Pandora being friends but I also think Pandora was a bit older that him like by two or three years and was in Ravenclaw. So it's interesting how I see him befriending an older Ravenclaw student.

I like to believe both him and Sirius had inherited their looks from their mother, thus making both of them look a lot similar.

He very often got lost in thoughts and would constantly need to be pulled back, because his head was kind of a mess.

There are more but they are minor ones and irrelevant to this post.

Whom do I fancast him as?

On this one I completely agree with the fandom.

It's Timothee Chalamet as R.A.B for me

[kraefishh]

caleb wittogast, 5, 6, 7, 18, 22, 25

OHHHH OHOHOHO MY GOD, OKAY. CHOSE VIOLENCE, I SEE.

Caleb Widogast you make me fucking deranged.

as I did before I will answer one and then I'm putting the rest of the answers under the cut because this will perhaps be an even longer post. SOOOOOO!!!!

#5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

There is... admittedly a lot of songs that I associate with Caleb. But the 3 that I will mention are Would That I by Hozier because it makes me think about this literal masterpiece of a music video.

Then Curses by The Crane Wives. Which..... hough. The. The whole song is him, realistically. But I am not going to post the entire lyrics in this post for it. HOWEVER THE LAST CHORUS IN PARTICULAR....

Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust Tell me I am good enough Oh, lay my curses out to rest Make a mercy out of me.

IS SO......

Heahhaghghehgh.

and the last song that I will mention is Bright by Lilli Furfaro as that is. Literally a fansong for him LMAO. But this is the one that I learned to play on guitar and mhmfmhdfhfhhfh it still gut punches me every time I sing it. I nearly cried the first time I heard it, though that is not a non-universal experience from what I'm aware by a LOT of the other people in the comments on that video hhHSDHGD--

uh regardless hit the cut if you wanna hear me scream about the tragic dirty wizard man more.

FIRST AND FOREMOST I AM HERE TO PUT MORE FUCKING FANSONGS FOR CALEB THAT MAKE ME GO INSANE!!!! INSANE!!!!!!

These three songs (each word with a different link) by Chase Noseworthy that mgmdmfhmdhmfhmdfhmdfghmfg. nagdfnhgmdfhh. I'm good. bUT MAN. THIS MAN EMBODIES CALEB'S VOICE??? ITS SO GOOD??? Honorable mention to these two (same thing) as well. He has a lot of Caleb fansongs and honestly!!! hes so valid!!!

Okay anyway.

#6. What's something you have in common with this character?

This is actually a tough question because while I relate heavily to Caleb it's.... very hard to put the why into words.

He's very determined. He is the embodiment of burnt out gifted kid (no pun intended). He shows his affection through little gifts and quality time spent. He's willing to rip the entire world in half for the sake of those he loves. He really likes cats.

I think without getting into the nitty gritty details that is a Lot of my appeal for him.

.

#7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

THE ART THAT I SEE OF HIM IS NEVER BAD. I TRULY BELIEVE THAT. NOT ONE PIECE OF MEDIA MADE FOR HIM THAT I HAVE SEEN IS ONE THAT I HAVE DISLIKED.

.

#18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

While this would be an excuse for me to talk about widomauk I am instead forcing empire kids thoughts upon ye.

Caleb and Beau from the start were compelling. And their dynamic never stopped. They're the two humans of the group. They both came from less than ideal home-lives and then had horrible experiences with a person of authority in their lives. Neither of them cared that the other was a shitty person because the other understood. The other understood why they were a shitty person.

Early campaign empire kids is especially fascinating to me from Beau's perspective. Her trying to have a heart to heart with him only to have him walk away from her because he really does not like talking about himself in front of so many people. And her only response is to??? Just passive aggressively yell "WOOOOW. FUCKING COOL, CALEB!!!" At him!!! It is so fuckin funny but also shows that they are still learning to trust each other. Only to then be followed a couple episodes by Caleb apologizing and hugging her and for her to just??? Confusedly hug him back?? That awkward hug was EVERYTHING.

Beau: *schwacks her goggles over her eyes and then turns to Caleb* How do i look!? :3c

Caleb, without missing a beat: You look like a nerd.

I SIMPLY CARE THEM!! They are so stupid together but they are simply siblings!!! They care so much about each other. Caleb is literally willing to give up the safety of shelter for himself and the better half of the group in order for Beau to go on a date with Yasha. Beau sneaks Caleb into the biggest goddamn library which also happens to be the place where everyone hates her just in order for him to get some information. Caleb holding onto Beau for security while concentrating on a spell.

I could go on-- I won't.

.

#22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

OHHH MY GOOOHHHODD

When they make him speak German!!! Especially when they make him speak German correctly!!!! It is actually very rare that I see good dialogue written for Caleb where he will slip into Zemnian (which is. just the German language but renamed for the campaign). Especially writing him where he speaks Zemnian when he's tired!! Acknowledging that he doesn't think in Common!!!!!

ALSO WHEN THEY DESCRIBE HIS SPELLS!!! There's. admittedly there's one fic in particular that I am thinking of while typing this out but I will refrain from linking it.

But describing his spellwork and his little quirks that he does and... god. He's so so complex to work with but when you get it right??? Hough.

.

#25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

I think I immediately liked him hHSDHGhGHDHG.

No but seriously I think seeing enough of Caleb from clips is what made me start watching it. I knew I was going to love him from the start. And that hasn't changed. He is, i think by now, one of my top 5 characters in media?? Like I do not realistically have a defined list but I can guarantee he has a spot somewhere on top 5.

.

Yeah okay I knew this was going to be much worse when I was thinking about my answers for this but hhhhHOUHGHHFGHH. WHOOPSIES!!!!

Thank you rar for indulging me to ramble about him. He makes me feel so normal (<- I say with a dazed and far off stare on my face).

[shewolfofvilnius]

Rolan and your tav: pre: 1, general: 5, love: 14; domestic: 5. For Lia and Gale (that is a great idea tbh) Pre: 3, General: 6, Love: 1, Domestic: 4

Rolan/Tavaria

Pre 1 - How they met: They met when she moved to Elturel for a few months when she was 12-13. She struck up a friendship w the three siblings, and Rolan was her first kiss.

General 5 - Heights. Rolan is 1.82m (around six feet) while Tavaria is 1.77m (around 5’9)

Love: 14: More protective: Tavaria slaughtered most of Moonrise just to reach Rolans siblings. Anyone who dare mess w Rolan faces her wrath. Rolan is more protective in the little things and making sure Tav stays the best version of herself, but she’s actually the one you do NOT want to trifle with.

Domestic - 5: Breadwinner: Tavaria needs time off after the absolute fight and at first it looks like it’s going to be rolan. but she grows miserable in the role leading to her leaving for Reithwin to farm while Rolan goes with her and becomes their archmage and a teacher/librarian. As a master farmer her work is going to be far more physical than his though his still is important.

Lia/Gale:

Pre 3 - Who felt feelings first: Lia. Thought Gale was cute, as a wizard who got into a minor argument w Rolan he won her over fast. When he showed up in Moonrise to rescue her she was done (and he was getting feels by then too)

General 6 - Personalities: Lia is very passionate and fiery w a definite soft/tender streak. Gale tends to get lost in his studies and hyper-fixations but when he cares, he cares. Sometimes Lia gets frustrated when Gale dgaf, or when Lia just doesnt give two bothers abt his interest, but they’re two sides of the same coin

Love: 1: Who said I love you first. Gale, twice. Interestingly after having slept together (non-sexual) already. Says it twice before Lia returns the exact verbage but makes it known several times.

Donestic: 4 - Kids: By the time of the fic, Gale has already considered that a relationship w Lia that produces kids will produce tiefling kids and he’s been reading up. He expects it to be some time away, however.

At first they weren’t planning on it, but after learning that Mattis has already been bounced out of two placements, and neither he nor Silfy are willing to abandon each other nor Mirkon, they go from 0 to 3 overnight as Gale and Lia take them in. Gale briefly suggests not, and it’s the closest Lia comes to threatening to leave.

By the next morning Gale has conjured extensive decorations welcoming the three and every bookseller in Faerun has gotten an order on parenting books.