#wyn i love your art so fucking much

[evecolourshock]

Wyn, your art is amazing!!! I love your older Beck, he's such an Unit of a guy, but your Cyrus!!!! Holy hells your Cyrus, where to even begin. He's long and lanky and has clearly been through hell. He's bunched up and defensive but radiates the vibes of a feral cat about to fight the whole world so it can't hurt him again. Leaves claw marks in everything he knows, clinging so tight because he doesn't know what he'll be if he lets go. He's desperate, and... damn. You've really figured out how to invoke sympathy for this chaotic wreck of a person, and I love your version of him so much.

So, with that in mind, have a fic ♡ you figured out how to break my heart with this guy, and I have no words to describe how happy I am you did.

Cyrus doesn't know why his feet take him here. He staked claim to Purgos, haunting the streets and bringing pain to any of Clu's forces trying to do the same. He's no Tron, and it burns still, but the Wraith is whispered about in every dark corner and satisfaction curls through him at each mention of his new name.

And yet.

And yet if he lets himself wander, he always comes back to Argon.

To a Garage in Argon.

Or maybe to the "mechanic" in it. He's not sure.

Beck... Cyrus doesn't know how he feels about Beck, any more. It used to be jealousy and rage and hate, for an upstart taking what was his and bringing hope instead of fear-

Now it's all muzzy. Complicated. The hate is easy, but it doesn't bite the way it used to. Jealousy and rage, much the same, blunted by the new emotions running alongside them.

Pride, even though he doesn't like admitting it. Beck's strategy worked. Even the refusing to kill part - Cyrus doesn't know if he should be irritated by or admire Beck's dedication to a cause similar and yet executed so differently to his own. Argon loves Beck's Renegade, even after Cyrus' attempts to take the title back by force. Cyrus can, at least grudgingly, appreciate that.

Respect. He's fine with admitting that. Beck's a good fighter and even better strategist, especially now he has all that height and bulk to back his presence up with. Doesn't need to get scrappy any more, when just showing up from nowhere can get whole squads to flee from Tron's white-clad spectre of an apprentice.

Longing Other things. Cyrus doesn't want to explore them.

Cyrus does his best to stay in the shadows. Even discounting his dulled, wild circuits, he doesn't belong here and it shows. He's thin. Lanky. Pushing the limits on how little energy a Program needs to survive. Purgos has so little resources compared to Argon, and Cyrus would attempt to steal as much as he could if he didn't know just how guarded it was.

He doesn't have the energy for that. Not any more.

Beck steps into the street, and Cyrus tries to muster up some envy. The Renegade looks good. Healthy and strong, confident and assured, completely unlike the awkward insecure youth he'd once been.

Brown eyes spot him, harden with the steel Cyrus knows hides deep in Beck's core. And yet-

Beck's still so damn soft, once he properly takes in the sight of Cyrus leaning against the wall of the Garage. Cyrus knows he doesn't look all that great, thin and tired and dull, but he tries to twist his lips into a cocky grin anyway. "No hug?"

Never mind a hug from Beck could probably crush his chest. Never mind he's almost hoping for a hug, just to interact with someone and for it not to hurt.

"Didn't think I'd see you again." Beck comments, and sure there's sharp wariness to his tone but the recognition - and dare he say relief? Cyrus feels his grin get more natural, even if it shrinks.

"Found something to do." Cyrus inspects his nails, irritated by their chips and brittleness but resigned to them staying that way. "Something better." He purrs, though it doesn't curve his words the way it used to. "Though I see you've been busy in my suit." The lie falls off his tongue instead of rolling, bitter and sharp instead of smooth - that suit was never his, not really, and in watching Beck he knows that.

Not least because Beck's made it his own, adding long panels and a better collar and even a damn sash until it's something wholly unique and fluid. Cyrus isn't sure what style the Renegade armour now follows, but it suits Beck.

"Not yours any more." Beck retorts swiftly, still lacking the bite to make it land properly.

Cyrus inclines his head slightly, and the acquiescence doesn't hurt like he thought it would. "No, I don't suppose it is." He murmurs, voice raw and weary.

Beck's still looking at him, all soft and caution and-

"I don't want your pity." Cyrus snaps, forcing hinself to dredge up some of that rage and hate keeping him going. He reaches for Beck, sees the Renegade stiffen - a flash of old fear, good-

Drops his hand. He's too tired for a fight, even if he wants one just to feel something. "Don't pity me." He repeats, trying to hold on to the energy his temper provides. "You won." His lip curls in a sneer, though it's not aimed at Beck. "Be glad about it."

"Why?" Beck asks him, and Cyrus stalls. "What good would it do?" Beck steps closer, and Cyrus hates himself for backing up. One hit and he's done for-

Beck pulls him in. It's half-pin, half-hug, and Cyrus feels his knees buckle. "It's not winning if everything's still broken." Beck tells him, and Cyrus doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"You think you can fix this?" Cyrus chokes out, words grinding in his throat. "Look at me."

"I'm a mechanic." Beck tells him dryly. "And you of all Programs know how stubborn I am." He backs off a little, hands still on Cyrus' shoulders. "And I've been getting bored lately anyway."

Cyrus wants to tell him off, to snap and snarl about not needing Beck's charity, about how he's not a glitching project-

But Beck's voice is light and teasing. His eyes are glowing, looking forward to a new challenge. His hands are warm and steady, firm yet gentle with Cyrus (brittle, fragile Cyrus, treated like he means something even though he feels like "Cyrus" means nothing at all).

"Can't have that." Cyrus mutters, trying to keep the swell of emotion he doesn't dare name held in his chest instead of leaking into his voice. "...I'm kidnapping you." He announces. "Just so you know."

"Ah, yes. For the reputation." Beck agrees far too easily. "Of course. I'll put together a convenient collection of supplies to grab at the same time, then. It'd be a shame to leave behind such a tempting bundle, especially when it's all packed ready to go and just sitting there." He grins broadly, itching for something to do.

Cyrus bursts out laughing. This giant idiot, got him feeling all soft and happy.

"Bring your suit." He advises. "Think we could use a bit of your hope."

At the end of the cycle, we’re still the same… right?

[andrewsleftarmband]

apologies for this but i am now a vampire in your house

ok SO

Today’s information vomit is about Hedd Wyn (Ellis Humphrey Evans but that boy needs Welsh credibility) because his poetry never gets taught because it was all written in Welsh and the UK Government has been conducting a cultural extinction on the Welsh since they found out Wales was there (sorry Wales. and everywhere else). Wyn was an established poet before the war but wrote some of his most famous stuff from the frontlines after he enlisted in June 1917 (previously hadn’t enlisted as a Christian pacifist in the wake of the big divide among the Welsh Nonconformists (christian subsect) who were traditionally anti-war but a decent number of them were pro-action in europe ‘on this occasion’). His family were farmers, which had been classed as a reserved occupation (essential workers immune to the draft), the 1916 mandate required the family to send one son to the army, so Hedd Wyn enlisted rather than his younger brother Robert.

He joined the RWF because OF COURSE he did - i don’t know what the hell was going on with the Royal Welch Fusiliers in ww1 but they somehow had Siegfried Sassoon, David Jones, Robert Graves, and Hedd Wyn?? did their regiment have a bisexual poetry section in their training? perhaps, ANYWAY.

He wrote his most famous poem, Yr Arwr (“The Hero”) before shipping out and finished it in the trenches and was later awarded the Bardic Chair for it (it’s kind of like a Welsh version of the Poet Laureate except they’re way cooler with it and it’s not actually that similar. It works as a loose description) but that wasn’t until September 1917. He’d arrived on the Western Front June 1917 as another body to throw at Haig’s Grand Plan ™️, thrice thwarted but this time it’s gonna be different you guys i promise - and it was! it was worse. good job Haig. So Hedd Wyn arrived in Belgium, finished his poem, jotted down a handful more, and was killed in the first few hours of Passchendaele on the 31st July.

Yr Arwr had made it back home by this point, and people loved it so much that they wanted to award it the Bardic Chair (which is an actual chair as well as a title and it looks sick as fuck), so in September 1917, when the ceremony of Chairing of the Bard took place, the adjudicators announced that the winning entry had been submitted under the pseudonym “Fleur de Lys”. They played the trumpets to summon the winner from the audience, and nobody stood. They played them again and nobody stood. After the trumpets had played a third time, someone announced that the poet was in fact Hedd Wyn, and he had been killed in action six weeks earlier. They draped the chair in a black sheet, and delivered it to his parents instead. That year's Eisteddfodd (big Welsh ceremony of the arts that has the chairing of the bard) is now referred to as the Eisteddfodd y Gadair Ddu (“eisteddfodd of the black chair”).

Of his poems I like Rhyfel the most (rhymes in both Welsh and English which is incredible but also pulls zero fucking punches, hence being kept on the DL until 1918):

Gwae fi fy myw mewn oes mor ddreng,

A Duw ar drai ar orwel pell;

O'i ôl mae dyn, yn deyrn a gwreng,

Yn codi ei awdurdod hell.

Pan deimlodd fyned ymaith Dduw

Cyfododd gledd i ladd ei frawd;

Mae swn yr ymladd ar ein clyw,

A'i gysgod ar fythynnod tlawd.

Mae'r hen delynau genid gynt,

Ynghrog ar gangau'r helyg draw,

A gwaedd y bechgyn lond y gwynt,

A'u gwaed yn gymysg efo'r glaw.

/

Bitter to live in times like these.

While God declines beyond the seas;

Instead, man, king or peasantry,

Raises his gross authority.

When he thinks God has gone away

Man takes up his sword to slay

His brother; we can hear death's roar.

It shadows the hovels of the poor.

Like the old songs they left behind,

We hung our harps in the willows again.

Ballads of boys blow on the wind,

Their blood is mingled with the rain.

SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG THANK YOU LOVE YOU <333

AAAAAAAAAAAH THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!

That’s honestly so interesting to me. I’ve read so many stories about WWll, but like nothing about WWl. I love that they have the chair to his parents instead of just picking someone else. I wonder if it stayed in the family like an heirloom or something.

The last stanza of that poem hits so good, especially the last two lines. I will probably be looking up more of his work now 😂

Thank you for this absolute treasure of an ask love youuuuuuuu 😭😭🫶🫶

[veritable-trash]

Golden Boy

Pairing: Ben Miller x F!Reader

Words: 1.9K

Warning: just pain. this one's sad for literally no reason. i'm sorry Benny i don't know why i did this to you :)

A/N: HOly fuck. Pardon my french but jesus christ this was hard. I got this idea and started writing it and then HATED IT and so pretty much started over from scratch and now I like it??? I think??? There will most likely be multiple parts to this because again I do not know how to just write a short little drabble even if there was a gun to my head. GIVE ME EXPOSITION. GIVE ME EMOTIONS. This is definitely a bit angsty and sad and if I do continue this(which I'm gonna try really hard to do pinky swear!!!!) it's gonna hit a turn around. Again this was literally only like the first quarter of the original idea I had so there is still a lot ground left to cover. OKAY enjoy :) this definitely isn't something I'm super confident about because this Benny is a bit different than I expected me to write him but I'm here for a bit of a darker Benny. Still a dick head, but you know anxiety and sadness. ALSO I dedicate this to sweet sweet @wyn-n-tonic because firstly she's like 90% of the reason I'm in love with Benny. But also because I've been seeing all the bullshit hate she's been getting and listen up fuckers. I will find you and I will mess] you up with my tiny little fists. Send any hate you have for her my way because I am an emotionless robot and she only deserves hugs. Ok anywaysssssssss I'll get on with it. Love anyone who reads this even if you hate :)

part two HELL YA i did it :)

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

Benny had always been your best friend. It all started in 3rd grade PE. He kicked a ball straight into your gut, you punched him in the face, and it was a done deal. You were the chaotic duo. The two of you had “accidentally” broken too many windows to count. Had pissed off so many teachers you were banned from ever being in class together. And though you had been the calmer side of the coin, the two of you had always been two peas in a pod. Elementary school was your kingdom, and you two got to rule it however you pleased.

But no utopia could ever stay perfect. Middle school was the new kingdom, but you were no longer its ruler. It was easy for Benny and complicated for you. Benny grew three inches the summer between 5th and 6th grade and was now a tall, golden haired, ocean eyed, tween heartthrob. And as Benny became the apple of literally everyone's eye, you became the entry point for every single preteen girl who wanted to land their first kiss with the Benjamin Miller. Every single invite to hang out was followed with the customary,

“Make sure Benny comes too, ok?”

You always said yes, because you wanted to be popular. Thought that if you could fit in maybe the distance forming between you and Benny would stop growing. That eventually those cool kids would accept you, and you and Benny could go back to being best friends just like you used to be.

Every time he promised it would be just the two of you, you would show up to a crowd. Every hang out full of inside jokes you were no longer a part of. It started to sting, to burn your heart. You slowly stopped accepting his invitations, making up excuses that you were busy, homework. And Benny didn’t even seem to notice. Didn’t seem to care. The cracks started to spider, fracture, grow bigger. He was the golden boy and you, well you turned to the shadows. Started writing, making art, hiding away at lunch so you didn’t have to see his stupid face that made your heart squeeze. You were trying to run away from the pain he left you with. You didn’t know it then, but you were already in love with the idiot. Already mourning the loss of something you didn’t even understand yet.

~~~

By the time high school came around, you and Benny barely spoke anymore. He had started dating Heather Parker and that was when you knew Benny was starting to forget you. Heather had always tortured you, always had a sly way of making it known she thought you were the dirt stuck to her shoe. You had complained about her to Benny a 1000 and one times throughout your friendship, and at first he had always been on your side, had your back.

“Do you want me to tell her that her hair looks stupid?”

“I can ‘accidentally’ spill my orange juice on her shirt if you want.”

“Honestly I think she smells weird so what does it matter what she thinks anyways?”

But now you were high schoolers, and Heather was hot. Heather was popular. Heather was the head cheerleader and Benny was captain of the football team and they were homecoming king and queen and how could they possibly get anymore perfect?

You lived out high school on the periphery, kept to yourself so that you didn’t get your heart stomped on. You were no longer naive and had now fully come to the realization that you were in love with Benny. And you were pretty sure Heather knew too. You had stopped even trying to get close to Benny, the risk of Heather’s wrath far too great. She scared the hell out of you and you weren’t willing to get into a cat fight over a guy who still believed Bigfoot was out there somewhere.

~~~

Graduation came and went without a blip. And then came the even of the summer. Benny and Heather broke up in the middle of the biggest graduation party of the year. It almost felt like a play. Immaculate streaky mascara tears, Grey’s Anatomy level dramatic dialogue, and the perfect backdrop of a cliche high school party. You watched the whole affair, smiling smugly into your drink trying to pretend it didn’t make you so fucking happy. You didn’t even care what the cause of their demise was, couldn’t be bothered to listen. Fuck Heather and fuck Benny and fuck high school for leaving you with the world's worst heartache. You were drunk and for once in your life you didn’t give a single fuck. You traipsed around the party, listening in on everyone's plans of greatness and college debauchery. The chaos that felt so reminiscent of elementary school days, of the world being your kingdom ready for you to rule as you pleased. You didn’t even realize that you had a ghost. That Benny hadn’t been able to tear his eyes from you since you stepped into the house. Waiting for the perfect time to have his moment with you.

He realized about a month ago that he was starting to forget the sound of your laugh. It scared the shit out of him. You had been his north star. Guiding him through the choppy seas for so long, and then somewhere along the way he lost sight of you in the fog. The fog of Heather, of homecoming king, of being the golden boy. He had let Heather whisper in his ear about how you had left him. How he was better off without you. It let Benny pretend that he hadn’t let his best friend slip away. Hadn’t let the fog overtake him and pull him under. It wasn’t until he saw you crossing the stage at graduation and his heart tried to jump out of his chest that the fog burned off. And he finally had to confront that he hated Heather. Come to the realization that she was mean to him, to Will, but even worse to you. He started to remember how she used to make you cry in elementary school. How her and her friends would pick you apart till you had tears streaming down your face and would run straight into his tiny little arms. How he would take your hands and tell you that no one would ever hurt you again as long as he was around. And now too many drinks in and too many thoughts in his head, he saw clearly for the first time since the summer before 6th grade.

~~~

You had snuck out into the backyard, hidden yourself under the shaded gazebo tucked into the corner of the yard. The stench of sticky sweet alcohol was starting to claw at your nose and lungs and you were starting to feel light headed. The music, the people, the party, life were all moving too fast. You needed a moment. A breath.

You heard a twig snap and your chest deflated. God you just wanted to be left the hell alone. Wanted to just have five god damn sec-

“Hi…”

Your head snapped up, breath sucked deep into your lungs, as your eyes settled on Benjamin Miller in the flesh.

“Hi.”

You couldn’t tell if you were holding your breath or starting to hyperventilate. Fucking alcohol. His feet faltered on the steps of the gazebo as if he was afraid to come too close. All his moves so tentative, so unlike Benny. His nails scratched at the remnants of the label on his beer bottle, his foot tapped in a syncopated rhythm against the wood boards sending vibrations up your legs. It all felt like an episode of the Twilight Zone. Who had body snatched Ben?

“I-uh I know we haven’t really talked in a long time. I know it’s my fault. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to talk to you and my brain just keeps racing with the thought that you hate me because you should hate me you should totally hate me I mean I am extremely hateable-“

“Benny, shut up.”

“I’m not not mad at you, because you did hurt me. Are still hurting me. But I don’t think I could ever truly be mad at you. Even if I tried my fucking hardest.” You huff out a laugh and risk a glance and there he is. Crystal blue eyes shining down at you just like you remember.

“I’m so sorry. God I’m so sorry.” He drops to his knees in front of you grabbing your hands. The bottle long forgotten with you now his only focus. “I mean I dated fucking Heather. How could I have dated fucking Heather? She hurt you and now I’ve hurt you and I love you-“

Benny falters at that and it’s like time has frozen in place. His eyes no longer locked on yours, drifting, fidgeting, glancing at everything that isn’t you. His energy shifts so quickly like quicksand and now you’re left wondering what changed in that moment. Because hearing those threes words hits you like a bus, but Benny was flippant. And you have always been just best friends.

“Ben you don’t have to be so nervous. I know it’s been a long time but I always knew you still loved me. You are my best friend, have always been my best friend, even if you suck at being my best friend.”

His hands were shaking in your grasp, and now you were starting to fidget. Starting to worry, question, wonder. Benny had always been Mr. Confident, Mr. Suave, shit eating grin and all. And now he was on his knees in front of you looking like the boy you remember from the 5th grade. Nervous and shaky and beautiful and your heart is fluttering so hard you’re surprised it has sprouted wings and flown out of your mouth.

“I enlisted.”

Time flickers. His eyes are back on you, and you almost sense a pleading behind them. Like he’s begging you to ask him to stay. Begging you to pull him off the edge.

“Oh Ben! Tha-that’s great. Seems you’ve never been able to stop chasing Will, huh? Uhm when-uh, when are you leaving?”

“Next week.”

“Oh.”

And now time stops. You can still remember his hollow eyes when Will left for the army. How even from a distance, you could see the worry. The fear. The challenge.

You always thought you and Benny would get time. Would have time once Heather, and high school, and stupid bullshit finally ended. And yet here you two were and all of that was over, but there was no time to spare.

“Can we talk? Somewhere else? Anywhere else? I miss you. I have so much to say. You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about you-“

You shoot up, losing his hands in the process. “I-I have to go Ben. I can’t be here, can’t be with you. I just- I can’t listen to you tell me how much you miss me all while I now know you’re leaving, again! I ca-can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

You’re running at that point, words smearing behind you as you try desperately to get away. You can hear him yelling your name, crying out for you in a tone that almost rips you to shreds. But you don’t care. You can’t be here anymore. Can’t listen to him say everything you’ve always wanted him to say knowing it means nothing. Because in a week he’ll be gone and your heartache will only grow with the distance. Only multiply with the knowledge that Benny was only good at one thing. Leaving you.

[fallynephemeron]

I'd like some for Wynter. However, since he's ace, just let him pick the ones he's comfortable with, as well.

So,  Wynter is reading over the questions, and just… his eyebrows are climbing higher and higher and his face is beet red.  So that’s not happening. He’s just sort of shoved the laptop toward Xave and pushed his chair back hard, grumbled ‘you do it'  at Xave with flustered hand motions and stomped outside to go chop wood.   Because that’s how he de-stresses and calms himself down. 

Xave’s sitting here grinning like an absolute maniac,  cause he rarely gets permission to disclose anything about Wynter’s personal stuff.

Some stuff is probably going to just be TOO entirely personal and he won’t answer those for Wyn either. He knows his husband probably better than he knows himself and he’ll know what’s going to cross the line…… maybe.  If he can control himself

but anyway…. here we go…. 

WARNINGS-  very graphic and the question discussing losing virginity discusses dub/con, rape and child molestation

What is the size of your penis?

Xave:  okay, like NO one knows this.  Well, okay like, a couple people and they don’t care cause they’re tops and so it doesn’t matter at all to them, but Wyn is … big.  Like you think you know big. You really really don’t. It’s glorious, like,  amazing.  Like okay, last time we figured out I’d had a LOT of partners, right?  Like a LOT?   Wyn’s the biggest guy I’ve ever been with, like, by a LOT. So I know big. Girth for DAYS.  It’s beautiful. My alpha male, lol.  Like .. you have to special order dildos that size!

Have you ever been pregnant/gotten someone pregnant?

Xave:   lol,  he got ME pregnant, obviously.  You should have seen him when we found out.  He was so proud of himself. It was so amazingly adorable. I mean, he’s sex-repulsed-ace for one thing, so like, that was a major feat in itself. He wants kids SO bad, but we were only doing it like a once a month.  That got frustrating.  I mean, not that it isn’t already frustrating for me, well, and him, when I get desperate,  but when he’s like hoping so bad it had happened, but then we have to wait weeks to try again when it didn’t and he’d be so sad and frustrated. SO we went all out on the stuff I know gets him going, which takes some major planning, and herbs and things for a tea that he makes that helps and he let me use my fairy powers on him too. I don’t know what else to call them.  Which he HATES normally, but he was desperate. It worked pretty well, all combined. But the whole time I was pregnant, he’d just look at me, like… this LOOK…. like “I did that.”  So freaking proud of himself.  I love the way he looks at me, even when I’m not .. you know….  carrying his child.  It’s really weird to think about really.  Like, how amazing that really is. 

When was your last erection/arousal?

Xave:  I think this time his last one would have been Sept. 8.   A couple days after the full moon.  Sometimes we can stretch it almost a week before he just can’t sex anymore.  But Cloud was born Aug. 21st.  The day of the eclipse. And we’ve both been super sleep deprived. And you’re really supposed to wait… after having a baby��� I mean, but we weren’t fucking gonna wait until the NEXT full moon, which is coming up in like 14 days.  YES you better fucking believe I count the days.  For one thing, I get sick, like really sick if I wait too long,  it’s my own personal fairy thing I guess, cause Riv says other fae don’t get sick from not having sex, unless they’re like an incubus or something. For another, he might break something if we went through one without fucking.  He’s …. let’s just say… NOT ace. At all. during a full moon. If you don’t know what the full moon thing is about… he’s a werewolf.  Yeah, like for real. Yes, I’ve seen him shift. When we got back together it’s one of the first things he showed me,  cause I was asking all kinds of questions, I mean he’s always been ridiculously tall, but I swear he GREW since I’d seen him last, before we broke up, and looked like he’d been on steroids. So then, like, we drove up to his cabin, and out into the woods, and he gets out, and no warning, nothing. Just strips down, which was major weird for him, and then… “hey babe, I need to show you something”   I screamed and screamed. SO much screaming. lol, Terrified the SHIT out of me, Magic is freakin weird, right?  He felt SO bad, he didn’t mean to scare me,  I couldn’t stay mad at him, but sometimes he’s kind of a big dumb puppy.

What are your turn-ons?

Xave:  Okay, hopefully he won’t kill me too hard if I share these….  but he’s got some…. interesting… kinks.  My husband hates spending money…. but we’ll go in a store or something, and I make him buy me things.  Or even online works too, but in a store it’s even worse. Make him buy me things, the more expensive the better.    … oh,  and lingerie. Neither of us realized that one, but when we were first together there was this halloween party at the club and I dressed up as Marie Antoinette,  but in her undies… it was an AMAZING outfit.  … I never made it to the club…… must have been near a full moon for that to happen.  That was before he had his first change.  I guess he changed really late. That’s what his family said. I guess it usually happens when you’re a teen.   But ANYWAY… .so.. you know what I did for our wedding night?  and YES we planned our wedding for a full moon. Cause hell if I’m not getting laid on my wedding night.  but anyway,  lol….   I drug him into one of those ridiculously fancy boutiques in the city, uptown. Seattle doesn’t have anything on New York for expensive boutiques… but anyway… took his money out of his wallet, and made him watch me buy $900 worth of silk and lace.  We didn’t even make it home….  he couldn’t even drive….  luckily his truck is freakin huge.  He’s got other turn ons, like normal stuff,  and one that’s just… too private.  I don’t think he’d want me to share that one.

What is the strangest thing you’ve ever been turned on by?

 Xave:  pretty sure the answer to this is the one above….  being forced to spend money … that’s a pretty weird kink I think.  But pretty harmless.

Are you open about your sex-life and sexuality?

Xave:  I think this one is pretty obvious.  That’s a big HELL NO.  I’m amazed he even gave me permission to share anything.  He’ll probably end up regretting it.

Are you comfortable naked?

Xave:   He takes his fucking shirt off ALL THE DAMN TIME.  DO you KNOW what this does to me????   He gets a little sweaty and off comes the shirt… and he’s completely oblivious to the fact that he’s this fucking hot man-wolf-mountain, that I just want to fucking CLIMB.   It’s horribly sexually frustrating.   But full on naked… nope. When we do end up screwing, it’s usually under blankets or so far out in the middle of nowhere that there’s no risk of anyone else seeing him.

How often do you usually last?

Xave:  this depends on where in the cycle we are.  So like,  the day before the full moon, and the day of ,  it’s quick and dirty and rough. Real rough, and often. Then the moon starts waning, and things slow down a lot. I think the day after is my favorite. We can go for hours.  You’d think that would be enough,  but it’s not. If his rut even lasts a week, which doesn’t happen often…, it’s usually 4 or 5 days, then it’s just this ache for me that never gets filled. If I was just human, I’m sure it would be plenty enough.  But I’m not. So most of the month it’s like… not getting enough to eat. I’ve been a homeless street kid, without enough to eat every day.  It feels like that.  All the time.  We tried having someone in our relationship that could help out with that… so i wasn’t like… starving all the time.  But it just didn’t feel right…. This isn’t perfect. But it’s working, and I wouldn’t give up Wynter for an entire world of sex. SO….. *shrug*

Are you straight/bi/gay/etc?

Xave: Wyn’s like a 1 on the kinsey scale.  I’m his exception. so, Het-romantic, asexual.  And if anyone says he can’t be ace cause he likes sex  a few days out of every month, they can go screw themselves.  That’s hormonal from the lycanthropy …whatever…magic stuff.

How many relationships have you been in?

Xave: I think he’s only been in one other relationship besides me,  he was dating this girl while we were split up, I don’t think he ever really even tongue kissed her.

How old were you when you lost your virginity?Explain your first time in detail.

Xave:  I’ll try to be brief on this one, cause it’s not something he likes to talk about, but it’s important. The more stuff like this gets talked about the more aware people are, and when people are aware of things, they become de-stigmatized to talk about, and that’s important and Wyn agrees with me on this one, even though he can’t talk about it himself to other people.  Wyn was in a group home for boys. He lost his parents when he was a kid. That’s where he met our friend Jaq, when they were real little. They grew up together there. There was this asshole that came in to do “art therapy”  with the kids… and he started grooming Jaq, he took Jaq’s virginity anally when he was about 13 I think…. Wyn and Jaq shared a room, and Jaq was Wynter’s first crush. They relied on each other for EVERYTHING. Jaq “showed” him what he’d learned from the “art therapist”, mostly cause he was confused by it, and knew it was wrong but he liked it too, and when you’re that age, you experiment, especially when you’re trying to figure out confusing stuff like sex.  Trust me I get it, I survived it.  Being molested by someone older and in charge is so fucked up, sometimes it fucking hurts, but sometimes it’s even worse than that, because, like sometimes you like it? cause it feels good sometimes… but you KNOW it’s wrong and you hate it at the same time and you want them to stop and never touch you ever again.  It fucks up your brain SO much, which is why child molesters are absolutely evil.  Wynter hated it, and protested, but he’d do anything for Jaq, and Jaq insisted,  so he let him. Sometimes Jaq can really be an asshole,  I don’t think it’s on purpose, but he has a really hard time with empathy too.  It fucking sucked and I hate that it happened that way for him.  I guess the point I’m trying to make.  Child molesters SUCK, it’s not Jaq’s fault that happened to him, but consent is still massively important, even if it’s not your fault.  and there’s nothing wrong with being ace and it doesn’t mean you’re broken and it doesn’t give anyone the right to laugh at you, even your friends.

Where is the strangest or wildest place you’ve had sex/oral?

Xave:  wildest, literally. lol   Like literally out in the wilderness. That’s his favorite place.  To the point where I had to put my foot down when we proposed, and say that our wedding night was going to be in a BED or I wasn’t going to marry him. Joke’s on me though, cause we ended up in the cab of his truck.  I was teasing, I would marry him again even if I never got to have sex in a bed again, but I still say bed sex is MUCH better than leaves and twigs and rocks under your back sex.

Have you ever broken up with someone because they couldn’t satisfy you?

Xave:  We broke up over this. Trust me. This isn’t easy. An ace with a hypersexual?  The problems are HUGE. Sometimes it downright sucks. For both of us. There’s been lots of tears, and even anger and resentment. But we love each other, and we talk a lot, and we both care about each other more than I ever thought it was possible to care about someone, so… we make it work. It has to. He’s my soulmate.

Have you used anything to improve sexual performance? (Penis Extenders/Tingling Lube/Cock Rings)

Xave:  nothing like the stuff they suggested…. that’s not the issue.  But there was the time Wyn found this old book of potions…… We’ve gotten desperate for solutions in the past, and willing to try anything to solve it.  That was a disaster. Don’t mess around with magic when you don’t know what you’re doing.  He was in rut for almost an entire month.   The first couple weeks it was great.  But then it got downright dangerous. he almost killed both of us.  The potion was still in effect when his real rut came on…. usually he can control his shifts, even during the full moon, but this time, he couldn’t.  He didn’t even shift fully into wolf like he usually does. He got stuck halfway between.  Like 12 feet tall monster wolf-man with fucking claws and fangs.  *shudders*  And he couldn’t shift out of it. It was horrible and terrifying, and that’s when we quit trying to “fix” our situation.

Have you ever had sex outdoors? Describe the experience(s).

Xave:  My husband is a werewolf and works for the forestry department as a storm clean up, salvage … whatever person. I don’t know what his title is exactly. He prefers sex outdoors.

Have you ever had sex in a car? Describe the experience(s).

Xave:  My husbands truck has gotten a lot of use. The biggest risk is accidently honking the horn. That’s happened a few times.

Which non-genital parts of your body do you like being touched or stimulated?

Xave:  he likes it when I kiss his neck and rub his back, he gets all melty and it’s adorable.  I’ve just learned to control myself, cause I can ruin the moment too easily by going too far when it’s not the right time.  So…. like… most of the time.  It’s SO hard to keep my hands off him.

What would you like to improve about your sex life?

Xave:  for both of us that would be frequency. It really hurts him that he can’t be what I need, and that hurts me that he’s hurting so much over it.  I never want him to feel like there’s something wrong with him because he doesn’t like sex most of the time. He’s not broken, and neither am I. We’re just really mismatched soulmates, and that’s just the way it is. Soulmates doesn’t mean everything’s perfect. It just means you’re so completely connected to this person that you’ll fight together through the problems and stand stronger together in the end. Soulmates is when you still love each other fiercely and unconditionally, even when it doesn’t make any sense.

Have you used any form of sex furniture? What kind?

Xave: LOL  do you KNOW how many times he’s had to rebuild our furniture because of sex?   I know that wasn’t the question, but “sex furniture” just made me laugh.  The bed hasn’t broke again since the last time.  I swear the posts are made out of tree trunks.  Literally.  It’s glorious.  I feel like I’m in bed with some kind of Forest King or something when I wake up in that thing.  It’s SO massive, we had to custom order a mattress and sheets for it. 

Have you ever tasted cum? Do you like it?Do you eat ass?Where is your favorite place to cum?Do you have a panty fetish?Do you like to bite or be bit?

Xave:  I’ll just state it for the record here, that my husband likes his sex dirty.  The dirtier the better…and when he’s into it?  He’s INTO it.  so… just leaving that here.  He has a filthy mind.  Which is probably why he blushes so much and probably why all hell breaks loose when his hormones finally override his inhibitions.

Have you indulged in all your fetishes?

Xave:  this kinda goes along with the previous question regarding dirty sex, and I’m not gonna go into details, like at all.  There might be a tiny hint in the questions I answered for myself. But there’s one thing he’s really into that only happens once a year, on his birthday.  Full moon or not.  In fact, it’s better if it’s not a full moon, it can get dangerous if it is.     and no,  dirty doesn’t mean… like….,  like I know there are some people out there into things like … golden showers and… literal shit.   Ewww. No. That’s not what I’m talking about.

Are you a top/dominant a bottom/submissive or a switch?

Xave:  he thought he was bottom/submissive.  That’s what he learned and that’s how he’d always been treated. But well,  i’m mostly bottom/submissive, and at absolute most, switch, and that only sometimes….. so figuring out sex when we first got together was….. interesting.  Yes I’ve topped him, but that’s mostly in the past, he’s SUCH a top now, when it happens. He was still taller than me, lol,  but it wasn’t quite so insane as it is now.   Birthday sex…?  that’s when things change and he’s a bit submissive.

Do you enjoy long, extended teasing/edging sessions?

Xave:  that would be a huge yes, for both of us.

Rough Sex or Intimate Sex

Xave:  you know there’s such a thing as both.  At the same time.   But yeah, either/or and both.

[myselfinserts]

“if i could roll my eyes I would.”

“OW! DUDLEY, STOP IT!”

“GRIGOR’S A WEAKLING! GRIGOR’S A WEAKLING! WEAK WEAK WEAK~!”

Little Grigor kicked and clawed at his brother, tugging on his ears as he tried to get off the ground. He hadn’t consented to a brawl today. And he certainly didn’t consent to fighting with his older brother. The two looked almost exactly alike, save for the differences five years made between them. And as a result of those five years, Dudley was far bigger, far stronger, and already mastering his quirk. 

Dudley Halwn. Quirk: Mimink. He can summon inky copies of himself and others, using them like puppets. And he currently had two of the miminks holding onto his legs to keep him from getting back up. 

Their whole family was ink. 

All of them, but him. Nearly ten years old and his quirk hadn’t manifested yet. Everyone was convinced he was quirkless. And he was sure of it too. 

And that hurt more than his brother’s attacks. 

“Dudley, get off him!”

Grigor looked up to see white inklings grab at his brother and tear him away, the miminks poofing into puddles of dark liquid. He slowly stood, looking around until his eyes met with the snow white figure standing a few feet away. He bolted over to him, whimpering slightly as he hid and gripped his coat tightly. 

“Thank you Wyn,” Grigor whispered. 

Wyn smiled, patting his little brother on the head as he released Dudley from his inky grasp. The two eldest sons stared at each other in silence. Neither moved. The silence only grew stronger. 

“Protecting the little useless whelp again?” Dudley finally said. “Why am I not surprised?”

“If I could roll my eyes, I would, little brother,” Wyn snickered. “Only a coward would attack someone who can’t fight back.”

“Whatever.” Dudley walked past them, throwing a back kick to Grigor’s legs as he went. “I’m going home. Fuck off, you little bastard, if you know what’s good for you.”

Grigor winced, holding back tears. He never cried in front of his family. Never. But damn if today wasn’t a good reason to. He couldn’t fight. He couldn’t stand up for himself. He was an unhealthy, useless, good for nothing waste. He knew this for years. 

And yet, only Dudley seemed to treat that like a problem. 

“I’m sorry,” Grigor whimpered. 

Wyn smiled, lifting him up onto his shoulders and heading toward the woods. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk. The meteors are going to be falling tonight.”

Grigor  rested his chin on his eldest brother’s head, listening to him talk about the stars and their stories. His brother spoke of nothing else. But he didn’t mind. It was soothing. There were times where Grigor often wondered if his brother was actually a star put into an Elspie human’s body. 

“You know,” Wyn chuckled, “I didn’t find my quirk until you were born.”

Grigor’s eyes went wide. “But…but you’re in your twenties now. You were ten when mom had me.”

“But its true. I didn’t know what my quirk was. I thought I had no power.” He smiled fondly. “It wasn’t until I saw your wee face staring up at me and your little fingers gripping my thumb that somethin’ stirred in me.” He took a turn and headed up a stony path. “I found my ink three days later. I practiced and practiced. And now I can fight. Now I’m a licenced hero. And I do enough to live comfortably and use my quirk as I please.”

“You think I can still find my ink?”

“I’m certain of it. And even if you don’t, I’ll be there to look after you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

The two made it to a rocky ledge overseeing the town. The night sky had completely made itself comfortable in the air, and drops of moonlight began to fly across the sky. Grigor looked up and watched, making a wish on every single one. 

Please. Let me have the power so I can look after myself. So Wyn won’t have to worry about me anymore.

“DUDLEY!!!”

Grigor Alberi. Hero name: Inkwell. Quirk: Inkwell Creations (as the EHA called it). Can create inky demonic entities and real life objects using ink he can produce from his body. 

Today, he was facing off against Inkdrop, a villain who was using his own inky abominations to run Aeron Village into the ground. He was the leader of the villains who took the entire town over when he first met his beloved. 

And back the, Aurelia was right. Grigor Halwn couldn’t defeat those villains. Too much of a moral code held him down. Too much of a kind heart held him back. He wouldn’t find it in himself to be able to kill. Though he’d never admit it. 

No, it took him several years of training. Several years of facing job after job that tore him down. Several years of working up the nerve to be able to face Dudley one on one. 

And he didn’t find that nerve until a week before being approached by the EHA about joining their Elemental Geodes. 

Wyn had been hospitalized. The only hero who ever managed to escape Aeron Village alive after a failed attempt to clear them out. When Grigor went to see him, Wyn was blank faced. His eyes, once full of life, now had lifeless swirls where his starry eyes once were. Grigor had asked him ‘did Dudley do this to you?’, and all Wyn managed was a smile and a soft ‘my wee baby brother’ in response. 

While recovery was going to be possible, but Wyn would never use his ink for hero work again. 

And this was the final straw. 

As his ink demons ran through the town, slaughtering everyone in sight, Grigor stormed his way to the town hall and kicked in the door, charging at the figure waiting for him. 

“Grigor?” Dudley snickered. “You’re the one killing everyone outside? I thought Heroes were righteous and good-”

“SCREW RIGHTEOUSNESS! I’M DOING WHAT I SHOULD HAVE DONE WHEN WE WERE CHILDREN!”

Ink creatures filled the room as the two brothers drew their weapons. A sword for Grigor, two for Dudley. Flames began to burn through the walls as the two clashed. Despite the years and despite the practice, Dudley was far too heavy footed. Where Grigor lacked strength, he made up for in flexibility. A bend backwards, a high kick coming down on the shoulder. Sparks flew as metal clanged, echoing in the fire. 

“Hope you enjoyed your quirk,” Dudley laughed. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish you remained a quirkless little maggot!”

A hard kick to the chest sent Inkwell skidding back, but he recovered, how ink minions flying to his side and the miminks tried to tackle him. He charged forward, his blade going upward in sharp slice, cutting open his brother’s shirt and vest, leaving a cut on the front of his torso. Not enough to kill. 

Yet.

“That was for Wyn!” Inkwell bellowed. “The brother you so heartlessly scorned when all he ever was to you was kind and stern!” Another slice, this on going diagonal and sending the left sword flying away. “That was for the people of Aeron village, especially the Alberi clan who you so ruthlessly slaughtered for your villain’s haven!” Another diagonal cut, sending away Dudley’s right blade and removing two of his fingers. “That’s for my Aurelia, who you traumatized and took everything from!” 

Another slice. And then another. And another.

“Grigor, stop-!”

“For our family you betrayed! For the innocent lives you stole! For the power you abused!”

“Grigor-!”

“For the power you took from our brother!”

“Please-”

“FOR THE YEARS OF HATRED AND ANGER I HAD TO ENDURE FROM YOU!”

One last swing, and he removed the left arm. 

Dudley fell forward, the miminks vanishing as the ink flowed back to him to stop the wound. The smoke clawed at Inkwell’s lungs, cutting into his chest with deathly vigor. He sent his own ink creations away, knowing they’d set to work removing the pesky fire. 

Dudley smiled darkly, laughing through it all. “So…you gonna kill me?”

“…no.” Inkwell stepped forward, giving him a kick to the face before grabbing the severed arm. “No, killing you would be too kind. And if I sent you to prison they’ll use you and your quirk. I trust the EHA way less than you. And you’re a cold blooded killer.”

“You call me cold blooded and yet you’re slaughtering everyone here.”

“You’re all S-rank villains. The people your bunch killed were innocent artisans. The difference is you’re scum and the other weren’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Because you let two of those kind souls escape. And they were the reason for your downfall.”

With a snap of his fingers, the room began to fill with the dark liquid the brothers had become known for. The ink rose, slowly encasing Dudley within its grasps. The older brother struggled against it, but Grigor simply smiled sadly. 

“You had everything,” Grigor said. “You had the quirk. The health. The power. The charm. The strength. You were always papa’s favorite. And now this is where you end. You could have continued the Halwn family legacy. Instead, the Halwn family will die with us.”

And with that, Dudley vanished into the ink. When the liquid retreated, a small snowglobe rested upon the floor. Inside was a perfect recreation of Aeron, with snow falling slowly in an unending splendor. Grigor went over and picked it up, looking to the town hall and smiling as he saw the little image of Dudley laughing insanely up at him. 

This was the perfect punishment for him.

Three weeks since Aeron. Wyn finally started talking properly again. Inkwell had been visiting whenever he could. He brought him sketch pads and new pencils. He loved when his brother could draw growing up. And his art skills came in handy with their kind of power. 

“So,” Wyn muttered. “How’re things at home?”

Inkwell shrugged. “Alright, I suppose. Aurelia’s happy to be moved back into her old home. Didn’t like the blood but…we got it cleaned up.”

“I see.” 

“What about you?”

Wyn shrugged, turning to show off the portrait of his little brother. “I’m okay. Just a little lonely. My boyfriend broke up with me yesterday.”

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I’d rather have company that wants me in return.” He paused. “I’ll admit though…I’m a little sad. We were considering adopting a baby together.”

That stung. Inkwell knew how badly the Halwn family’s health was. Having even one child was a miracle, and the fact that their mother had six was amazing. He and Aurelia had been trying for years. And still nothing. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

“It’s alright.”

“Do you know what you would have called the child?”

Wyn smiled. “Harper. I’m tired of color names in the family, and I want to branch out. If I had a kid, or if I had a niece or nephew, I’d want a Harper.”

“Harper, huh?”

“Yeah.” He looked at Grigor, smiling softly. “What about you?”

“Aurelia and I haven’t been lucky yet. We want to have a kid but…it looks unlikely.” He smiled. “If we do though…I can ask if we can have a Harper.”

Wyn chuckled, and all the dark feelings in Inkwell’s heart fell to the side. Things would be okay.

Inkwell sat outside, enjoying the breeze as everyone inside the Aylward house was preparing dinner. He wasn’t up to socializing. He already had to lie to Davis about both the strange light from the night before and about how he’d found the horse. He couldn’t just not tell him about Amarysso. 

And now, he had to figure out how to keep this a secret from the Geodes. 

If L wasn’t invovled, he’d seriously consider just letting things play out and going to war. 

“Damn this all to hell,” he sighed. “I’m too old for this shit.”

“I said come one come all enjoy the show!3 to get ready, nowhere to go-!”

“Ah, finally someone my age to talk to.” Inkwell pulled out his phone and answered cheerfully. “Pay for the ink machine.”

“Hello baby brother.”

A devilish smile crossed his face. “Wyn! Oh lord its been too long. How are you?”

“I’m okay. Just came to visit but you weren’t home. Now I’m with your wife at the doctors.”

His heart sand. “Doctor? What happened? What’s going on?”

“Uh…” Wyn paused, whispering to someone ‘should I?’ before turning back to him. “Well see…Aurelia wasn’t feeling well today so she asked me to take her to the doc. She’s okay though, don’t worry!”

“What the hell is going on that she’d need a doctor though?!”

“She just found out she’s pregnant.”

The world seemed to stop spinning. They’d been trying and trying for years. They were ready to go see a specialist or see about adoption. Most avenues were closed off to them given his career and their attempts to keep Aurelia safe from the EHA. As far as they knew, she was quirkless. Other avenues of child rearing would out her in an instant. But that was a risk they would take if it came down to it. 

But now those risks didn’t matter.

The impossible miracle happened. 

“How far along?” he finally asked. 

“Two months according to the doctor,” Wyn explained. “He’s talking with your wife now. I offered to call you. Sorry, little brother. I know this is kinda personal but I couldn’t leave her alone and-”

“No, no. I’m glad you’re there with her. I got this big thing I’m sorting out. If it weren’t life or death, I’d be there right now.” He bit back tears. “Have her call me back as soon as she’s able, okay?”

“Of course.”

“And please protect her until I get back.”

“Always.”

“Thank you. I promise, I’ll be home soon.”

He quickly wrapped up the call and hurried inside. He found everyone in the dining room, about to sit for dinner. Gary sat at the head of the table, with Étienne and Ceri to one side while Lucien and Reginald sat on the other. L and Phoenix took the other head, leaving a space between Etienne and Phoenix for him.

“Hey Inkwell,” Ceri said. “We’re about to-” he stopped, his eye wide. “You’re crying.”

“Huh?” he put his hand to his cheek, surprised to find tears that weren’t of ink. “Oh. Yeah, I guess so.”

L quickly stood up, her lips pursed. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah it is.” He smiled softly. “I’m…I’m going to be a dad.”

Everyone nearly fell over. 

“WHAT?!”

“I’m going to be a dad.” The news seemed to just be settling in on him as well. “I’m going to be a father. Aurelia’s having a baby.”

L smiled and hurried over, hugging him tightly. Ceri soon joined him and both were telling him congratulations. Gary cheerfully hurried to the kitchen to get the good wine. Étienne made a note in his pocketbook and Luci and Regi turned to look at each other, a newfound softness in each other’s eyes. 

But Inkwell wasn’t paying attention enough to care what everyone else did. He was too busy crying into his niece’s and nephew’s hair. 

Despite the upcoming trials, he was the happiest demon in the world.