#you are my siblings in arms. you are my comrades. you are part of my community.

[chaotic-carnifex]

Loveless aros are a valuable part of the aromantic community

Aplatonic aros are a valuable part of the aromantic community

Afamilial aros are a valuable part of the aromantic community

Heartless aros are a valuable part of the aromantic community

Their perspectives are important and valuable and their voices deserve to be heard

Aromantic spaces must account for them and their safety

A space that is not safe for loveless, aplatonic, afamilial and heartless aros is not a safe space for aromantics

This is not up for debate

[malwaredykes]

well. here she is. miss Leigh Stasik.

trans woman. stubborn, incorrigible, eccentric. communist; she has leftist in-fighting with herself on the regular. a cannibal; she has no moral qualms about this, and its both a bit of a spiritual thing and a bit of a pragmatic thing. medic (not a doctor. no medical license). she knows for sure she had some kind of significant personality change from being shot in the head, but she doesn't remember what she was like exactly before it happened, it all became this kind of distant memory soup. shes originally from west new cali, but she grew very attached to the mojave. and has a lot of contempt for the ncr. She Will Serve Crack Before She Serves This Country. thank god the army discriminates against transsexuals etc. zero tolerance for the legion, obviously.

she firmly believes she is not nice, or kind, or compassionate, but instead her actions and her general sense of justice stem from her simply doing whats the most logical and objectively beneficial. it may be true to some extent, but she might also have a wee bit of ocd of the "i am a horrible person whos at all times like 2 seconds away from committing atrocities" variety.

shes a SCIENTIST. unofficially. she doesnt have a degree nor a chosen field of study. she makes her own hrt and other mysterious concoctions, including designer chems. which she claims she ingests injects etc not for recreational purposes, but to Enhance Her Powers And Possibilities. she reads old world books about psychology so she can manipulate people better. and makes weird contraptions and doohickeys while high. shes a HACKER of course and hacks terminals and systems for fun and just to see if she can.

her stats are out there due to implants and intense training, originally they were rather average. in-game she wears combat armor mk 2, but i see her having spruced it up like this. her main weapon is the ycs/186, the unique gauss rifle, but before that she used a modded plasma pistol. which she very much enjoyed the silly appearance of. because it was so small and with so much shit tacked on and she could just hold it in one hand like a mutated revolver like Hands up motherfucker bang bang bang lol. her melee weapon of choice is the machete gladius, but she's been training to be able to wield a thermic lance.

in my head the trajectory of her actions and the fate of the mojave that follows is different from what you can do with the game, because leigh could only go for The Secret Leftist Route Which Was Supposed To Be In The Game But We Were Robbed Of It.

boone was the first friend she made after leaving goodsprings and their relationship is particularly notable. they are Comrades, Siblings-In-Arms, Worsties (like besties but fucked up). theyve seen each other at their worst. they annoy each other on purpose. theyve had serious ideological clashes with each other and some ways in which boone perceives the world drive leigh absolutely nuts. they're ride or die for each other. theyre the kind of comfortable around each other where she'll be on the toilet and smoking a cig with the door open and talking to him, while he's naked sitting on the floor removing stitches from his leg. she's done surgery without anesthesia on him. he's projectile vomited blood on her from being poisoned by cazadores. she strongly encourages him to become a traitor to the ncr and to take part in the revolution and the formation of the new independent mojave alliance. somehow, it works on him in the end. shamefully they kinda like snuggling... boone bro come to bed man its nighty night man its beddy bye time.

shes in love with lily bowen. i havent decided yet whether she actually makes a move. but she thinks lily is sooooo dreamy. and shes right. if you dont think the enormous 203 year old blue mutant woman is dreamy thats your problem. outta her way

[shadowdarlings]

Blood Will Rain

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis : During the war with Hybern when all seems lost a surprising new/old face makes an appearance to turn the tide in Prythian’s favor. None other than Rhysand’s long lost sister who was believed to be dead. This revelation is shocking for the entire IC but none more than Azriel himself.

Pairings : AzrielxReader , ReaderxInnerCircle!Platonic , ReaderxRhysand!Siblings

A/N: part one? this is my very first fic EVER so let me know what you guys think! not very canon but i can’t get it out of my head.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Blood was everywhere. It soaked the muddy ground of the battlefield and clung to the air like a sickness. Azriel felt as though every heavy breath he heaved in was coating his throat in the thickness of blood. He couldn’t keep track of how many of Hybern’s soldiers he had cut down with his siphons and blade, but it didn’t matter. They were losing, and he knew it. Yet he never faltered as he continued his brutal slaughter of any enemy he could set eyes on. Azriel caught a glimpse of his brother Cassian not 30 feet away slicing and brutalizing with the same vigor as himself. It still didn’t matter, they were losing. Sweat, mud, and filth coated his entire being. The battle had been raging on for hours, yet how many he did not know. The sounds of screaming, bone crunching, and organs being cut from their rightful place had long since drowned in his ears. All he could hear now was a dull buzzing and the occasional order from Rhysand in his mind’s eye. Exhaustion had not yet set in as adrenaline fueled him through most of the battle, but he could tell that Prythian’s forces were starting to slow down. He was not the only one that could knew they were losing. They had exhausted every resource, every viable power play had been made and they held no more cards in their hands. All that was left to do was fight until they couldn’t anymore, or die trying. He didn’t mind the thought as it crossed and then floated away. He would gladly give his life in the name of freedom and peace for humans and fae. The horrified faces of his comrades haunted him, but he knew they felt the same. So the battle would rage on until their very last breath.

In the distance a high pitched shrieking noise shook the buzzing from his ears. It sounded like a scream, but not quite. Azriel cut down the solider in front of him before leaping into the sky to get a better view. The noise was not coming from the distance, it was coming from the sky… and fast. Pummeling straight towards the center of Hybern’s forces a single winged creature plunged into the slick mud and hit with an impact that shook the ground for miles around. The blast radius flung the surrounding soldiers into the air and backwards, and then the creature stood. Azriel’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, yet he was too far away to identify this new player. It raised its hands and with it a large section of Hybern with it. The screaming coming from the floating bodies was a horrific symphony, and then… silent. All at once at least 30 soldiers turned from solid to liquid. Their insides and outsides turned to a red mist that rained down in a thick syrup. Again the creature raised its arms and brought down a storm of blood upon the battlefield. Five more times this happened, all within a span of a minute. Hybern’s legion was being turned into liquid dust at a rate that could give Prythian the upper hand.

Azriel tore his eyes from the creature and scanned the field for his family. His gaze landed on Rhysand who appeared frozen, eyes locked onto the carnage the winged creature was unleashing onto their enemy. They needed to regroup. Azriel soared with vigor towards Rhys and landed directly in front of him, yet his High Lord did not acknowledge him. “Rhysand!” he shouted over the screams and clashing of steel. Rhysand had paled and seemed as if he was going to be sick. Azriel gripped him by the shoulders and shook him yelling his name once more. Finally Rhys looked in his direction, his eyes glassy with tears that threatened to spill over. “It’s her,” he said, “It can’t be..” his midnight voice cracked. Although every cell in Azriel’s body screamed at him to ask who Rhys was talking about he knew that strategy must come before curiosity. Seconds later, Cassian landed with wild eyes and a heaving chest. “I don’t know what in the ever living fuck is going on, but we need to take advantage of this,” he said with ragged breaths. Azriel turned towards his other brother and the two of them began reconstructing a battle strategy that would surely beat Hybern down so they could subdue the King and lay this conflict to rest. Rhysand seemed disengaged but gave his approval nonetheless. So, with the last drops of their immortal energy, they launched a final attack bringing their enemy to bended knee.

It was Nesta that cleaved the King’s head from his shoulders, and the High Lords of Prythian that brought back Azriel’s brother from the grasps of death. Amidst the chaos of it all Azriel felt a lingering pull in his chest and was reminded of the creature that rained down on Hybern. Then almost as if on cue a long forgotten but familiar scent overwhelmed his senses. Rhysand paled once more and Azriel’s head snapped to look behind him. The sight he took in was utterly and entirely unbelievable. Instantly he fell to his knees before you. Rhys almost toppled over himself. You were drenched in blood, some of it already drying and crusting on your skin. The entire Inner Circle beheld you as if the could not register what they were seeing. For it was not a creature that came to their rescue, it was you.

“Sister,” Rhysand choked out, “wh- how? what is this?” Then with a flash of speed he had you pinned to a nearby tree, his claws at your throat and his teeth flaring in a snarl. “What is this,” he now demanded, thinking this was some final cruel joke meant to completely break him. Azriel stood just as fast, placing a warning hand on his brother’s shoulder. Cassian and Mor wore faces of complete shock. You summoned any air you could through the grip of your brother’s talons, “It’s me,” you choked out. You met his violet eyes with a set of your own and willed him to understand that it was truly you he was squeezing the life out of. It was Azriel that spoke next. “Rhys,” he said in a dangerously careful tone, “you’re hurting her.” He sincerely doubted the validity of that statement based upon what he had seen just an hour ago on the battlefield but he thought it might shake his brother from doing anything rash. Rhys slowly loosened his grip on your neck and took a stumbling step back.

“I’ll explain everything,” you said, “I promise.” Azriel took only a slight step behind you, his hand resting on truth teller’s hilt. He gestured for you to sit on the small boulder to your right. You followed his silent instruction, looking at him briefly and noticed something in those hazel eyes that you could not yet identify. Sucking in a deep breath, you launched into the story of your whereabouts for the last 500 years. You explained that when Tamlin and his father came to slaughter yourself and your mother there was a last minute alteration to their plan. They had decided instead to detain you and gift you to the King of Hybern as a gesture of good faith in their alliance. Ever since then you had been the King’s personal pet. He had done countless cruel things throughout the years, torturing and experimenting on you. When the King came into possession of the cauldron he was curious not only what it could do to humans, but High Fae as well. You were his first and only test subject as the cauldron deemed fit to gift you with extraordinary power. Power that rivaled Ameren before she had turned into fae herself. He found that it was growing increasingly difficult to keep you under lock and chain, and when the time for war came you knew it was your chance for freedom. The castle had been lightly guarded as most of Hybern’s soldiers had been called to action and your escape had been carefully calculated for centuries. The moment you tasted fresh air again you soared for your long lost family. Pent up rage from 500 years of captivity along with the surge of power gifted from the cauldron is what you unleashed upon Hybern’s massive legion, ultimately turning the tide of the war.

There was a weighted silence after you finished your story. Everyone’s eyes were pasted on you in a horrified realization. 500 years. You had been trapped for 500 years. The guilt of not knowing, not saving you, rested heavily upon each member of the Inner Circle. The crushing quiet was killing you, but it was interrupted by a deathly grumble from behind you. “You saved us,” Azriel spoke, “You saved us when we did not save you. After all this time.” You pivoted your torso to look up at the shadowsinger. His eyes were clouded with the same guilt written on the rest of the faces in front of you.

“Always,” you stated plainly.

[soleminisanction]

I've always really liked DC's in-house choice of referring to their various superhero groupings as "families," but it has gotten a little frustrating recently with people both in canon and in fandom seeming to forget that families aren't just a parental-unit-and-kids formation. They're complicated, and a lot of the DC families are too messy to fit into that neat little nuclear family mode.

Which is to say... here's some scattered thoughts/summaries about how these families are actually structured in canon, because I think it's interesting:

Supers -- The smaller, more traditional Superfamily (Clark, Lois, Kara, Kon, etc.) is a pretty traditional Midwestern nuclear family, with Jimmy Olsen filling the role of close family friend/goofy neighbor sidekick (in the Silver Age, he was Kara's would-be suitor) and Steel feeling more like part of Clark's personal circle of friends. The recent line up, though, with Jon, the twins, Kong and Nat? Starts to feel more like some old dynasty or noble house, complete with fostered foundlings and the Steels acting almost like knights under a noble's banner, possibly reflective of what the House of El would have been on Krypton.

Arrows -- Might currently be the closet to a traditional nuclear family structure. You've got Ollie and Dinah, their younger sisters, Ollie's adopted and biological children, and Ollie's granddaughter through Roy, plus by some counts Roy's co-parent and her sister as "in-laws." Bonnie and Cissie King-Jones are adjacent to but not technically "part" of the family, though I believe it's implied at one point that Ollie might also be Cissie's bio-dad. Pretty straightforward, these guys are actually family and they act like it, for good and ill.

Shazam Family -- Also a literal, actual family. Not originally, the original golden age "Marvel Family" was considerably more complicated and only Billy and Mary were full siblings, but nowadays the whole point of the modern Shazam family is that they're foster siblings united by familial love and that's fantastic. Meanwhile your average Black Adam story is 75% angsty family drama, 25% Egyptian mythology references.

Flashes -- Technically closer to three nuclear families (the Allens, the Wests and the Garricks; four if you include the Quicks), two of whom are united by marriage and all of whom are bound by the Speedforce, which, given its semi-spiritual connections to things like Speedster afterlives, can act almost like a religious force that connects them to the additional members like Avery, Circuit Breaker and Max as Bart's foster-dad. They're a big, sprawling tree with more cousins than siblings, the kind of family that functionally has a reunion every Christmas and Thanksgiving.

Lanterns -- Now these guys are the exception that proves my point about the whole 'family' thing not being straightforward. The lanterns aren't a family, they're a corps. Soldiers. Space cops. Comrades-in-arms. They respect each other, have each other's backs, might even like or care about each other, but those last two are optional, and they don't have the same kind of assumed obligations towards each other that a family would have. They're friends and co-workers, not family, but that doesn't mean their relationships are less significant, they're just different.

Wonders -- Roughly half of them are either one of Hippolyta's daughters (Diana, Donna, Nubia pre-Crisis) or related to them through the gods (Cassie), and the other half (Artemis, Yara, modern-age Nubia) use sister as a term of endearment more in a utopian lesbian commune kind of way. I think they brought Steve Trevor back recently? He's basically the Ken in this equation and perfectly fine with that role. None of which should be surprising if you've seen Professor Marston and the Wonder Women.

Bats -- This is the one that people get really wrong when they try to force it into a traditional family structure. Don't let WFA fool you, the Bats are and have always been way more a snarled mess of tangled interpersonal relationships than they've ever been a cohesive family. Whether Dick is Bruce's son or his brother depends on what era you're talking about, and the former reading is much more recent than you think -- as in "started cropping up in the early 2000s" recent. Barbara is both Cassandra's sister and her mother. Duke and Steph both have living parents and neither of them want or would ever dream of treating Bruce like their dad; Tim was the same way until his dad died. None of the Robins ever lived in the mansion together, nor did Cass. Babs considered Jean-Paul Valley her brother and Huntress is so close to Tim she once hallucinated him calling her Big Sister. They're a beautiful mess of people finding places where their broken edges fit together into something that works for them and trying to reduce it down to a cozy nuclear family is just so goddamn reductive and lazy.

Blue Beetles -- Are only tangentially related to each other. Seriously, they never even get direct mentoring, each one just takes over when the previous one dies and works on completely different rules from the other two. They're complete strangers bound by a legacy and that's honestly pretty fun.

Zataras -- There's only three of them and they're literally a father, daughter and cousin.

Martians -- Not really a family because there's only the two of them, but an interesting case where the two survivors of what was functionally a war of mutually assured destruction came together in an attempt to find some peace in the aftermath of what they'd lost.

Titans -- The JLA and JSA aren't really in the "family" category, but the Titans lean into it hard, mostly because they're a textbook found family. They don't mirror a nuclear family structure, they're simply a group of people who came together to form a mutual support network. They're the idealized college friends you grew into your own with, some of them childhood companions and others you only met once you leave home for the first time, but all of them friends that you manage to maintain contact with for life, with everyone coming back together even as you scatter and do your own things.

Young Justice -- Meanwhile, this team is the chaotic group of misfits you hung out with when you were a teenager, especially when you were just starting to be allowed to act without adult supervision. You drive each other crazy, none of you know you're all queer as fuck, and you'd fight a bear for any of them even if they asked you not to. They'd probably be insulted if you tried to call them a family. They come out here to get away from their families, thank you very much.

[desparaic]

To Hearken that Dreadful Silence - Muzan X Reader

Short drabble, somewhat of a sequel to "To Kill My Melody" but can be read as a standalone. Reincarnation AU.

Read To Kill My Melody here

TW: Angst, self-unalive, death, canon divergent where Muzan wins

You have lost.

The demon slayer corps have lost.

Here you were, legs trembling from exhaustion and endless injuries, knees and tip of sword digging into the bloodied dirt, all before the fully awakened demon king, his body spasming, dark blood coursing visibly through his veins, as he relish the newfound power of conquering the sun after eating the younger Kamado sibling.

You couldn't take your eyes off him. Not because you don't want to— rather that if you do, you'll have to face countless bodies of your comrades scattered around you. You still vividly remember the head of the water hashira, who you considered as your friend once upon a time, flying across your sight. The last time you've seen Sanemi, and that Kamado boy, they were missing limbs, and losing blood on parts that shouldn't be hit or punctured at all.

All you could hear was silence.

You're the only one left alive.

Someone? Anyone? Please, even just a groan of pain, a shallow breath— anything to indicate you're not the only one alive.

But as you hear the grotesque shifting of that…— that monster's body, adapting to the newly acquired power—

All you could hear was despair.

"Finally... Finally..."

... That monster finally spoke up, grinning and reveling in the moment. A ray of orange came out from the sky, bringing light. Then another. That used to bring you hope, relief, knowing that the fight would finally be over but—

"Aahh... To conquer the light of the sun... To walk in the day once again...!"

That hope is long gone.

He laughs. Laughs maniacally. Laughs so much it made your ears bleed. How dare he. How dare he stand tall and proud among the corpses of your comrades, of your allies. How dare he laugh at your misery. The mere sight of him, the mere sound of his breathing disgusts you.

And yet you can't take your eyes off him.

You've failed. Your sword cannot take his life, your only hope was the sun to burn him alive, but now that he has conquered it, he truly has become immortal.

His piercing red eyes turned to you, a foreign emotion swimming within.

"My love, oh my love, how I've waited for you to come back to me..."

He walked toward you, arms wide open as if he was awaiting a hug from you, "Finally... I have everything I have been waiting for, been looking for. I have achieved immortality and perfection..."

He stops at a distance away.

"and I finally have you by my side again."

Nausea builds up your throat. How dare he. How dare he even look at your way— how dare he utter even a single word right at you. He deserved to die in the worst way, boiled alive in acid, have his limbs torn to shreds—

In your blinding anger, you failed to register the hand resting on your cheek.

"So long I have waited for you to come back to me... I knew you wouldn't leave me all alone forever..."

What is he even talking about.

"Of course... You'll come back to me. You always do. You love me, after all."

Why is he lying. Why does he act as if he knows you.

"I'm sorry, (Y/n). I was a fool not to give you the love you deserved."

How does he know your name.

"But now we can finally be together forever. I can give you my blood! We will be equal!"

Why is he still talking to you. Stop talking, stop breathing. Just drop dead, die, die, die—

Wait— is he touching you?

Finally, you notice the ever-freezing, yet burning, touch on your cheek. You smacked it away, daring to challenge the devil of death before you with that bold act.

Yet, he remained unfazed, though his smile dropped, "I understand this may seem confusing. You don't remember, do you? That's fine. Once I share my blood with you, I'll make you remember with my memories. Perhaps I can even dig into your brain to stimulate it, maybe then it will uncover the memories of your past life— our shared life."

You jumped back, while slashing your sword across his abdomen. But of course, that is but a mere scratch, perhaps even less, to him. Even before you finished your attack, it had already healed.

There's truly no hope for you.

"Come now. It'll only be a while. It will hurt, that I cannot deny, but it is for the better," he stated, slowly walking toward you.

No. No. Whatever he was spewing about— that past life or whatnot— you don't care. All you care about is not falling into the hands of this monster. It's clear to you now he won't kill you, but rather to keep you by his side for whatever sick reasons he has.

That, you argue, is worse than death.

Perhaps, in another life, you would avenge your comrades, you would inflict every pain, every suffering that the monster has caused back to him. In another life.

But for now…

With no hesitation, with firm resolve, you smiled. A venomous, bitter smile— one that is alien to Muzan, so much so that he froze.

What a horrible expression painted on a canva he knew to be so innocent and beautiful long ago.

"I hope life gives you far worse torture than death, Kibutsuji Muzan. I will make sure your wish for immortality becomes your curse."

And with that, with the last of your strength as a hashira, you sliced your sword through your neck.

And for some reason, death sounds like a familiar tune to you.

[violetmuses]

Tandem - Multifandom (Part II) ❤️‍🩹 [18+ MINORS DNI]

Title: Tandem - Multifandom (Part II) ❤️‍🩹  [18+ MINORS DNI]

Fandoms: “Rebel Ridge” + “Bad Boys”

Characters: Terry Richmond + Armando Aretas

Love Interest: Female Reader

Main Storyline: When Terry Richmond arrives in Miami, who knows what could happen next?

Tandem Masterlist

@peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky @planetblaque @sweettea-and-honeybutter @lovedlover @xjjawsomex @readingisahobby @kindofaintrovert @nelo0wesker @gg-trini @cloveroctobers @maliagurl @nobodygetsza @twinklestarslight @yassbishimvintage @episodes-ff @sweetiepie4190 @kirayuki22 @katbakhoe @persethegawd 🏷

=======

2024

When his favorite coffee shop closed over drama,  veteran Terry Richmond began to lock down another routine after waking up every single day. 

Until further notice, you would invite everyone to share different meals at your house. 

Parking outside your home for breakfast, Terry chimed that doorbell and waited, not yet holding special house keys like members of AMMO. 

“Hi. Good morning.” When the door opened, you answered. 

“Morning.” Terry still greeted your own presence as usual. 

Wow. Richmond thought. 

You kept very little makeup and wore this comfortable outfit, but that smile remained. 

“Come in.” You welcomed Richmond past the main threshold.

_____

“Bout time you got here, man.” Detective Marcus Burnett shuffled footsteps when Terry entered the kitchen. 

“Am I late?” Richmond chuckled through slight awkwardness. 

“No. Just haven't seen you in a while.” Marcus gestured by the table. 

“My bad.” Since attending the public cookout, Richmond hardly mingled elsewhere and stayed private. 

“No problem. Everybody's different.” Marcus continued speaking, but excused himself as you set down Terry's plate. 

“Thank you.” Terry grinned while accepting the meal. “Where's everybody?”

“Kelly and Dorn just left. Christine isn't feeling well, either.” You counted friends and included Mike Lowrey's wife. 

“Stomach bug?” Richmond frowned. 

“Hopefully nothing miserable.” You didn't even know what to think. 

“That's good.” Terry nodded and just continued eating. 

_________

As time moved along, footsteps echoed from the staircase of your house and Armando Aretas emerged while holding his cell phone. 

“I put you on speaker and we're listening. Tell them what you just said.” His slightly accented English rasped toward Mike Lowrey on the other end. 

“Morning, y'all!” Mike raved. “We just found out that Christine is pregnant.” 

“Aww!” Hysterical, Marcus sniffled through incoming tears. “I can't believe it.”

“Congratulations, Mike!” You cheered with the biggest smile on your face. 

“Thank you! I'll keep everybody posted.” Mike chuckled through joy before hanging up. “Take  care.”

Discarding that meal, you nearly jumped from the table and opened both arms to hug Armando. His rare yet genuine tears fell against your shoulder. 

“Sorry.” Those brown eyes dampened through countless emotions. 

“You'll have a sibling, no need to apologize.” You whispered and offered reality for Aretas. 

Noticing Terry at last, Armando pulled himself together and stepped forward, dapping Richmond up. 

“It's a big deal, man. Congrats.” Terry grinned for a moment. 

“Thanks.” Aretas took the compliment this time around. 

*****

“Y'all not gon’ believe this! Another business replaced the coffee shop.” Marcus Burnett entered that police department with news. 

“What now?” Mike Lowrey questioned his longtime partner. Even Kelly and Dorn looked on. 

“There's a restaurant.” Marcus pointed backwards. “Wanna check it out?” 

“Sure. We'll go after the briefing.” Mike followed other comrades before Captain Rita Secada would make important announcements. 

“Where's Armando?” Marcus quickly glanced around. 

“At home. He's really involved now.” Offering joy, Mike acknowledged Christine's pregnancy while Aretas helped out on a regular basis. 

“When Christine gives birth, don't force Armando to watch his sister, man.” Marcus advised. 

“I'm not forcing anything.” Mike then grinned toward you. “He's ready.”

“Great.” Feeling much better, Marcus settled when Rita Secada stood behind the podium as usual. 

Time to hustle. 

*****

Prepared to work again, you joined this new restaurant when that old coffee shop no longer stood. Customers flocked in time for lunch. 

When that front door chimed again, you'd just served this adorable family and guardians tipped well, bringing out joy during the crazy hour. 

“Apologies for the wait…I'll find your seat as soon as possible…” You paused after recognizing Terry. 

“No rush.” His deep voice almost chuckled as Richmond smiled for a moment. 

“Hi.” You greeted him.

“This place looks even bigger than the coffee shop.” Terry noted. 

“New construction plans. Follow me.” Taking one menu here, you led Terry near this table when coworkers straightened up other messes. 

_____

“It's nice.” Terry acknowledged the establishment surmonce this lunch hour settled down. 

“Yeah. It's family-owned with really good meals. Let me know if you need anything…” You planned to move elsewhere, but the door chimed again. 

“I'm starving!” Marcus Burnett stepped through with Mike Lowrey. “Let's see what's going on here.” 

“Surprise!” You cheered for a second when Mike and Marcus realized. 

“Hey! Never left this spot, huh?” Marcus joked. 

“Y'all just missed the lunch crowd.” You offered this truth and seated both friends. 

Terry looked on from his table as Lowrey and Burnett ordered. 

“No dessert.” Mike arched his brow while facing Marcus again. 

“Damn!” Burnett gritted seconds later. 

Paying the bill, Richmond laughed on his way out the door. 

******

On your day off, no fireworks sparkled in Miami, but Mike and Christine announced the gender of their child while visiting your home one afternoon.

Rolling toward one curb, Mike kept driving his classic Porsche with its top down and revealed the vibrant shade of Christine's sundress. 

“It's a girl!” You raved over pink designs while standing on this porch and watched the car leave after Christine waved farewell. 

Before you would call Armando, his car pulled up out of nowhere. 

“You'll have a little sister? Congratulations!” Your voice beamed. 

“Thanks.” Parking, Aretas opened both arms to embrace you, happy. 

_______

“Nervous?” You asked, quietly sharing lunch together. 

“A little.” Armando set down his drink while thinking of Christine. “She's been through too much.”

“With y'all around, she'll be fine.” You raved over Mike's and Armando's efforts. 

“I hope so. How are you?” Aretas questioned. 

“I'm doing much better.” You said. “There's a new restaurant where the old coffee shop used to be. I work there now.”

“Cool. Sorry if I haven't been around.” Armando offered the truth. “I'm either at the police station, or helping Christine.” 

“It's okay. You have important jobs.” You answered. 

“Appreciate it, but where's my scone?” Armando teased you while remembering his order from the coffee shop. 

“I'll find them.” You know that one break room found at the police department isn't great. 

______

Right when you finished lunch and started watching a movie together, the doorbell rang. 

“I'll get it. ” Armando stood from this living room couch and walked to that front door. 

“Thanks.” You smiled. 

Checking the RING Camera, Aretas noticed that Terry waited on this porch. 

“It's T. Should I open the door?” Echoing past the foyer, Aretas offered his slightly accented English. 

“Oh, shit! Yeah, let Terry in.” You almost scrambled after turning off the movie. 

What happened? You thought. 

Crosstalk overlapped for both men before Terry entered the living room.  

“Hey. The landlord just announced renovations for my apartment. I just wanted to let you know in advance. ” Richmond explained. 

“Oh wow!” You realized. “Feel free to stay here if you'd like. It's less expensive than hotels.”

“Are you sure?” Terry squinted. “I don't want to get in the way.”  

“I don't mind.” You smiled. 

“Thank you.” Richmond nodded. 

“You're welcome. Go ahead and take any of the guest rooms.” You gestured upstairs from habit now and watched Richmond leave. 

Meanwhile, Armando moved out of that apartment complex himself and stayed in the Lowrey household when Christine became pregnant. 

“Mind if I leave after dinner?” There's another doctor's appointment.” Aretas pointed backwards. 

“Okay. Driving her around?” You understood that Christine needed help traveling at the time. 

“Yeah. Mike can't do it this week.” Aretas just went on. 

“All right.” Nodding, both of you straightened up the living room early. 

______

In time for dinner, Richmond headed back downstairs after organizing his temporary room. 

“Armando's leaving early tonight.” You updated Terry. 

“Everything good?” Terry sat down after making his plate this time. 

“Busy tomorrow.” Aretas joined the kitchen table once more.

“Aight. As long as you're okay.” Terry checked regardless. 

“Thanks.” Armando clipped. 

When everyone sat down together and silverware clanked, you smirked once hot sauce reached the table again. 

“Don't crash out.” Gently warning Terry and Armando, you drank one beverage, waiting. 

“That's funny.” Richmond took that bottle, yet Aretas jokingly casted both eyes toward the ceiling. 

Your laughter warmed Terry's heart. 

******

Sooner than later, countless nights moved and different hours returned to your life, but one specific call would change everything right away. 

“Wait, what?” Barely awake, you sat up in bed  and whispered near your cell phone around two o'clock in the morning. 

“Sorry to wake you up, but I'm driving. Christine's water broke!” Armando dropped the big news. 

“Oh, shit!” You tried to avoid screaming and knew that Terry continued staying in one of the guest rooms. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, but don't stop by yet.” Armando explained quickly. “Immediate family visits first.” 

“Okay. Keep me posted. Congratulations!” You can't help smiling. 

“Thanks. Now I should get going or I'll miss my turn!” Aretas nearly chuckled before hanging up. 

Overjoyed, you grabbed one pillow and squealed inward, unable to sleep again. 

______

“Hey. Woke up earlier and thought I heard something.” By daylight, Terry noticed that you kept the bedroom door open. 

“It was me.” You don't even feel embarrassed anymore. “Christine's water broke last night.”

“Wow.” Terry smiled. 

“I'm going to the hospital, so make yourself at home.” You packed gifts and prepped other essentials. 

“Tell everybody I said congratulations. See you later.” Terry bid farewell, but you tossed an object. 

Using quick skill, Richmond palmed house keys before your car rolled out. 

*******

“She's here, man. Wanna hold her?” Once Christine safely joined parenthood, Mike held his beautiful daughter, yet faced Armando. 

“Yeah. I'll sit down first.” Wearing hospital scrubs through protocol, Aretas nodded. 

“Kay.” Mike glanced toward Christine and signaled with happiness. 

When this child reached Armando's embrace, life made sense.

No more secrets. No more danger. No more pain. 

Regardless of what happened next, this moment changed everyone. 

______

Bringing his wife Theresa with family, Mike Lowrey's longtime partner and best friend Marcus Burnett almost sobbed when entering the hall. 

“My niece!” Marcus blubbered, even fogging his glasses. 

“Marcus, please stop crying.” Mike screwed up his face, but Christine laughed while resting now. 

Even right here, theatrics made no difference as joy prevailed.

______

“Hi!” Despite showing happiness, you whispered to avoid interrupting that space and found Armando holding his little sister. 

“Hey. Look, she's so small.” Aretas grinned near you as Mike and Christine looked on. 

“She's adorable! Congratulations again.” You beamed without stepping too close. 

“Thanks for coming by.” Armando glanced between you and his little sister once more. 

“You're welcome.” You nodded before setting down presents. 

“What's up, Rook.” Mike Lowrey smiled in your path and Christine drifted to slumber, exhausted.

“I can't believe this. How are you?” You carefully greeted Mike. 

“A lot of work, but she's here.” Mike said. “We're very grateful.”

“I'm so happy for all of you. Take care” You planned to step out, but Armando revealed a surprise from one corner.

“Say bye.” Mimicking expressions, Aretas looked toward you and wanted his little sister to bid farewell. 

Hearts melted when you left the hospital and friends celebrated this brand-new chapter. 

******

Nightfall crossed the Florida skyline when your car returned to this driveway. 

“Hi.” Closing that driver's seat door, you met Terry by the porch. 

“Hey. How'd it go?” Richmond offered his deep voice and smiled, guiding you back inside. 

“She's beautiful, T. They're over the moon.” You nearly tear up over this day, but wouldn't overreact.  

“That's good to know.” Richmond shared calm amounts of joy. 

“Everything okay?” You realized his quiet demeanor. 

“Thank you for my keys.” Terry accepted that choice. 

“Oh! You're welcome.” You nodded upon realization. “Not sure how long renovations will last, so I got the set just in case.” 

Dining with leftovers that night, both of you welcomed silence in the home as life shifted. 

*****

During your lunch break one afternoon, Mike   sent this picture via text messages: 

Armando napped while Christine sat on the couch and held her little sister girl. 

MIKE: Caught Big Brother slipping! 😂 😴 🍼 

Before you could text Mike back, Armando called immediately. 

“I'm at work. What's going on?” You picked up the call and stepped outside. 

“Don't laugh.” Aretas spoke to you and revealed his little sister's nickname. “I knocked out at like 3 o'clock in the morning because ‘Princess’ wouldn't fall asleep.” 

“Aw. How's everything?” You smiled regardless of jokes. 

“Besides Christine, I'm her favorite.” Armando chuckled. 

“No!” You gasped. “Is Mike okay?” 

“He's cool, don't worry.” Armando ended the conversation. “Oh, man! Princess just woke up from a nap. Bye.” 

“Bye!” Hanging up, you go back inside and finish the day, energized through happiness.

_______ 

Back home, you find Terry sleeping on the living room couch, but this note waited on that coffee table. 

I'll leave soon. Thank you for everything. - T. 

Not waking him up, you noticed when the house keys angled by that note and even his backpack set on the floor. 

Just before you head upstairs to shower and rest, his deep voice grumbled. 

“That you?” He turned with groggy eyes and  your face smiled. 

“Go back to sleep.” You instructed. 

“No, Ma'am.” Though exhausted, his respect lingered. 

“Huh?” You knelt. 

“Thank you.” Pulling himself together, Richmond left the couch and stepped forward. His bright eyes locked down. 

“How early are you leaving?” You stand up, questioning him. 

“Can we still have breakfast together?” Terry almost laughed. “There's no more renovations at my place.” 

“Deal. Good night. Oh, who's  this?” You planned to leave once more, but your phone signaled one video chat. 

Mike called. 

“It's Mike.” Your voice nearly giggled. 

Just before you answered, Terry sat down elsewhere in the living room. 

“Hey! It's us. Wanted to show you something before bed.” Lowrey greeted you first. 

“Hi! What happened?” You can't wait to see what Mike planned. 

“Hey.” Armando noticed you on camera while holding his little sister. 

“Hi.” You waved to that screen as “Princess” rested her head on Armando's shoulder. 

“Saying good night.” Aretas glanced between you and his little sister, quickly smiling. 

“Night. Get some rest.” You bid farewell as expected, but noticed that Terry stepped forward. 

“Night, everybody.” Richmond's deep voice reached your path. 

“Night, T.” With Armando saying goodbye, The video chat ended before long. 

“That was a nice surprise.” You turned around for a moment.  

“I didn't want to yell.” Terry still acknowledged respect. 

“I'm sure they appreciate it. Sleep well.” You finally go upstairs for bed. 

*****

“Thank you again.” After promising to share breakfast, Terry gathered his belongings and would leave your house. 

“It was nice. Feel free to keep visiting.” You smiled in the driveway with him. 

“Yes, Ma'am.” Richmond nodded and started the truck. “Have a good day.” 

“You too. Be safe.” You waved by the driver's seat window and Terry left just before you shift. 

_______

After work, you drove to Mike's house with takeout from the restaurant and rang this doorbell. 

Steps echoed from inside the household as you waited. 

Before long, Armando answered this door without holding his little sister sister. 

“Hey.” His slightly accented English rasped once more.  

“Hi.” You greeted him. “I brought food in case y'all needed some help.”

“Thanks. Come in.” Armando guided you past its threshold. 

______

“Hey!” Mike opened both arms to hug you upon realization. 

“Hi. I've brought plenty of food if you don't feel like cooking for a little while.” Your voice offered help. 

“Thank you so much. She's running the house now.” Despite laughing, Mike acknowledged his newborn daughter. 

“How's Christine?” You questioned. 

“Sleeping upstairs.” Mike gestured. 

“Good.” You nodded once more. 

Heading to the living room, you find Armando with little sister. 

On sight, the newborn cooed in your direction, happy out of nowhere. 

“No jewelry today. I came here from work.” You laughed. 

“I've had pictures on my phone and she likes your smile.” Aretas revealed. 

“Aw!” You swooned, almost giggling. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Armando says. 

“She has your eyes.” You gestured between Aretas and “Princess.” 

“Don't get too excited, Rook. Both of ‘em have my eyes. C'mon. We'll be back.” Mike corrected you while taking his daughter for a quick diaper change. 

“How are you doing?” You questioned Armando once Mike stepped away. 

“Tired, but it's worth it.” Aretas then offered his truth. “I want Christine to feel better.” 

“That's so sweet.” You knew that parenthood would change Mike and Christine forever. 

“Yeah.” Armando continued speaking. 

“Don't worry.” You reassured him. “You're doing a great job.”

“Thanks. Is Terry still at your house?” Armando switched topics.

“Renovations just ended, so he left this morning and moved back to his apartment.” You explained. 

“Cool.” Aretas laughed for a moment while taking his cell phone. 

Before you could speak again, Christine emerged from the stairs.

“Hello.” Her kind smile warms your heart as both of you greeted one another. 

“Hi, how are you feeling, Momma?” You checked no matter what. 

“It's definitely a process, but she's healthy and safe.” Christine promised. “That's all we ask for

now.” 

“Of course.” You agree. 

“I need a favor.” Christine whispered and giggling for a moment. 

“Anything.” You offered. 

“Get him out sometimes, and working at the police department doesn't count.” Christine glanced near Armando. 

“I'm right here.” Aretas lifted his finger. 

“You heard Christine.” Taking your purse, you walked Aretas out of the house before his little sister would notice and cry. 

_______

“Where are we going?” Armando joined the passenger seat while you drove. 

“It's a surprise.” You just kept your eyes on the road, silent. 

“Man, I haven't seen this place in a while.” Soon enough, Aretas noticed the parking garage of his former apartment complex. “What's up?”

“Let's visit Terry.” You giggled, bringing junk food and takeout inside. 

*******

Unexpected knocking reached Terry's interest this afternoon and he stepped forward to answer. 

New construction aside, Richmond hadn't found other styles for the apartment and kept general designs in place. 

Opening that door, Terry smiled when you stood with Armando in the hallway. 

“Big Brother now? Come in.” Richmond dapped up Aretas while you closed the door. 

“Christine asked me to get 'em out the house, so we came here to bug you.” You laughed and placed treats on the small kitchen table. 

“You're not bugging me. It's quiet over here.” Terry said. 

“Don't mention his little sister anymore. He'll leave and ignore us.” You gently warned Richmond over Armando. 

“I can still hear you.” Armando took one of your snacks before sitting down. 

“Oh, don't get in trouble.” Terry chuckled back while facing your direction. 

“Y'all can't tell me what to do.” You sat from another chair.  

“Be nice.” Terry arched one brow and crossed both arms, revealing his service tattoos here. 

“Or what?” Your voice teased. 

“Damn. Should I leave?” Armando cleared his throat. 

“No.” You glanced near Aretas. “I drove us here, remember?” 

Just before Armando would respond, your cell phone rang. 

“Hi, K. Wait. what's wrong?” When you answered the phone, AMMO's weapons expert Kelly reached out. “I'm with Armando and we're visiting Terry.” 

“What happened?” Armando stepped closer, but Terry stopped him. 

“Shit! We gotta go.” Hanging up, you scrambled to leave and instructed Aretas. “Call the team right now. Someone found drugs at my job.” 

“Wow. Is that area haunted or something?” Terry became concerned. 

“We'll find out. Lay low, okay?” Your voice rushed to say goodbye and Richmond closed the door as planned, waiting. 

******

“Here's the bad news: it ain't weed.” Marcus Burnett updated everyone as red and blue overcasts brightened that Florida skyline once more. 

As a former detective, you crossed yellow tape with the squad and known sirens pierced through everlasting wails. 

“What happened this time?” You walked toward Mike next. 

“One of the line cooks found this random supply before calling us.” Mike explained. 

“Damn.” You shook your head. “Death toll?” 

“Thankfully no count yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if food has been contaminated or people got sick.” Mike went on. 

“Fuck!” You gritted and mentioned Captain Rita Secada. “All right. Make sure Rita shuts down the city as soon as possible.  I'm not taking any chances.”

“Aight. Shut it down, team!” Mike took charge elsewhere and you stayed with Armando. 

“Once we head back to the station and confirm everything, do you wanna go home?” You looked out for Aretas just in case. 

“No, thanks. I'll stay with you.” Armando's response surprised you here. 

Not arguing, you drove toward the precinct without fail. 

******

Leaving the police department and crashing at home hours later, exhaustion blacked out time upon return. 

By morning, you woke up in your personal bedroom, discovering this note: 

Don't shoot me, but I carried you upstairs last night. - Armando 🖤

Taking one much-needed shower, you pulled yourself together and moved downstairs, joining breakfast without cooking this time around. 

Reaching the kitchen, you found Armando shirtless, but this gold chain shined around his neck. 

Shit. 

“What's wrong?” His brown eyes noticed your confusion as two plates meet that table. 

“Nothing.” You've cleared your throat and accepted the meal. 

“Taking a break until the wolves show up.” Aretas expressed. 

“Call Christine and check on your little sister. It's still early.” You wanted to smile and help Armando feel better. 

“Good point.” Aretas dialed that phone number to signal another video chat. 

Once the police department grounded this new case, time would scramble again. 

“We're busy with another case, but I just wanted to say good morning.” Armando greeted Christine Lowrey. 

“Good morning.” Christine answered at home. 

“Hey,” Aretas said. 

“Dough!” Soon, cooing echoed from the phone when Christine held Armando's little sister sister “Princess.” 

“I'm right here, sorry.” Armando frowned during the call. 

“I'll find pictures of you and hang them somewhere.” Christine told Aretas. “She couldn't sleep last night.” 

“Sorry again. Hopefully today will look better. Take care.” Offering his slightly accented English again, Armando planned to say goodbye. 

“Thank you for checking on us, Armando. Stay safe.” Christine smiled with “Princess” before ending this chat. 

“I'll call Terry before we head out.” You unplugged your phone once that device charged on the kitchen counter. 

Planning this next call, you listened for the ringing dials until Richmond answered: 

“little sister Girl?” Revealing that deep voice, Terry slipped that nickname again. 

“Oh, be careful. You're on speaker, T.” You almost laughed. 

“Where are you?” Terry questioned more regardless of instructions. 

“Armando's staying with me, but we're going back to the police department soon.” You didn't lie at all. 

“Aight.” Somehow, Richmond's voice leveled further and further. 

“We're leaving now, but I'll definitely keep you posted. Bye.” Speaking with Terry, you bid farewell and Armando prepared himself as the case resumed. 

____

“Why did you do that?” Switching places, you turned in the passenger seat while Aretas drove your car. 

“Do what?” Armando wouldn't make eye contact with you. 

“Cooking breakfast shirtless like a movie.” You laughed once more. 

“You didn't stop me.” Aretas clipped one response back. 

“I'll never control anyone.” Nearly whispering, your voice offered this truth here. 

Parking by the station, Armando reached one curb and cut that engine. 

“Maybe I wanted you to notice.” Aretas didn't even flinch. 

Before you could reply for once, Aretas opened the passenger seat door and your guided footsteps trailed him right into the department. 

____

Once this team started hustling for the investigation, Armando wouldn't leave your side. 

Even when Mike and Marcus interrogated your coworkers from the restaurant or questioned others, Aretas became even more protective. 

“Dead ends. People we questioned today aren't adding up.” Mike struggled. 

“What now?” You asked. “We can't stop working yet.”

“I'll pull more strings.” Mike cautioned. “Get some rest before y'all lose momentum.”

As Mike and Armando said goodbye, you waited by the entrance, holding your car keys. 

Before long, Aretas drove once more as you rested in this passenger seat. 

*******

Returning home, you showered upstairs and would dream as usual, but caught Armando standing in the hallway on your way to bed. 

“Is everything all right?” You checked on him just in case. 

“You're better than me ‘cause I can't sleep.” His voice rasped. 

“What's wrong?” You questioned 

“I don't know.” Aretas quietly struggled. 

“You can always try. Wanna talk about it?” You wanted to help. 

“No. I'd feel better if you sleep.” Armando leveled the response. 

“Okay.” Trusting him, you couldn't argue and pointed backwards, heading to your room. “Good night.”

“Buenas noches.” Using his native language of Spanish, Armando offered ‘good night’ as well. 

“Thank you for helping me.”Just before you closed the door, one phrase reached Aretas. 

*******

On your way back to the police department, Terry called. 

“Morning.” Richmond's deep voice answered soon enough. 

“Good morning, T.”  You just wanted to feel better now. “I connected Bluetooth in my car, so watch yourself.” 

“Are you alone?” Terry snuck. 

“No.” You lifted your brow. “Armando's driving.”

“I'm coming to the station.” Terry revealed this plan and your thoughts jumbled. 

“Why?” You asked, puzzled. 

“I'll explain soon.” Terry hung up before you could respond. 

_______

“Someone in my apartment might be responsible for the drugs.” Terry offered brand-new information. 

“What the hell?” Your eyes traded glances with Armando. Even Mike and Marcus looked flabbergasted. 

“I left the building's fitness center and noticed this guy struggling with his bag.” Terry went on. ‘When I tried to help, he ran off.” 

“Did you see anything in the bag?” You questioned. 

“Uh, some items looked like silver holiday presents and boxes wrapped with red tags.” Terry explained the circumstances further. 

“Heroin.” Lowering their voices, Mike and Marcus responded in unison. 

Damn. You thought. 

“It's ‘95 all over again.” Mike gritted. “Who the hell pushes heroin nowadays?” 

“The drug of choice might help, but we'll see what happens.” Marcus said. “Terry, give us an ID for whoever you saw with that bag.”

“Yes, Sir.” Richmond nodded, staying back when more professionals entered this interrogation room.

______

Stepping toward the hallway, Mike joined you and Armando. 

“How's Christine doing with Princess? Should I go back to the house?” Armando stood concerned as Christine watched his little sister sister alone. 

“Don't worry. I'll check on them. Just stay with Rook. Can't have y'all scattered everywhere if somebody's responsible for the drugs.” Mike looked near Aretas and you once more. 

As you plan to leave, that interrogation door opened and Terry stepped out with Marcus. 

“We're getting close. Got a face, but Terry doesn't know his name yet. Our suspect stays private in the apartment building.” Marcus gestured around his expression. 

“Just like the McGarth case.” Mike shook his head. “Ghosts stay quiet.” 

“Yeah. It's early.” Marcus would ground the next plan. “Let's order some food and start hustling.  There's just a matter of time before this fool realizes what's going on.” 

_______

As nightfall crossed the Miami skyline in this precinct, time almost blurred throughout dark lights once maintenance turned down brightness.   

“Wrap it up, Mike! Look at them.” Feeling tired, Marcus pointed as Lowrey faced everyone else. 

Takeout boxes waited in corners and weapons expert Kelly grumbled near tech genius Dorn, exhausted. Captain Rita Secada left hours earlier. 

On the other hand, you stopped reviewing details with Terry and charged your phone, unable to focus more. Even Armando shut down his laptop. 

“Damn! Let's get out of here.” Noticing your watch, you gritted. “It's almost midnight.” 

As if on cue, Terry and Armando stood to clean the area. Dorn ended work as Kelly gathered belongings.

“Follow us back to the house.” Armando rasped by Terry. 

“All right.” Complying, Terry followed you and Armando out of the precinct without thinking twice. 

*****

No shared meals together. No light-hearted conversations. Rest became the top priority for all three of you or burnout would hinder everything. 

Sunlight greeted another morning in Florida as you woke up alone once more. 

Exhaustion stood out even more because you don't actually remember walking upstairs last night. You'd fallen asleep on the living room sofa. 

Maybe Armando helped out again, but who knows what could've taken place. 

After getting ready as usual, you found Armando leaving one of the guest rooms. 

“Hey. How'd you sleep?” On sight, Aretas paused and smiled in your direction. 

“I slept well. Thanks.” You responded. “By the way, you're in a good mood.” 

“Not running on empty and I feel better.” Armando said. “We've been trying to figure this out with no breaks.”

“Yeah.” Your thoughts agree. Time didn't even matter when cases began to lock down. “Staying back might help.” 

Out of nowhere, his phone rang in one pocket and you watched curiously as Armando picked up. 

“Hey. Hold up, what? Are you serious? Be right there. Thanks.” Aretas ended the conversation moments later. 

“What happened?” You squinted, unable to even reach the kitchen for breakfast. 

“Mike just called and the suspect turned himself in. C'mon.” You immediately followed Aretas and grabbed quick bites, almost ignoring Richmond downstairs. 

“What the hell?” Terry squinted through countless feelings. 

“Breakthrough with our case. We need to go.” You almost run toward the passenger seat of your car while Armando drives once more. 

_______

“What's up?” Questioning Dorn, Armando stood by virtual screens from the department when that suspect offered his truth. 

“Wow!” Dorn learned information right away, shocked. “Ready?” 

“Go ahead.” You encouraged Dorn. Even Kelly waited in silence. 

The suspect revealed his confession and Dorn almost immediately found this profile. 

“Drug trafficking, identify fraud, bribery. The list goes on.” Dorn listed so many crimes. 

Before you could pick up your jaw from the floor, sirens wailed again as different law enforcement officials escorted this random man to prison. 

Red and blue overcasts would take over morning sunlight here. 

“We got 'em.” Mike stepped forward alongside Marcus. “Our suspect moved into the apartment after Terry and no one questioned it.”

“What now?” You asked. 

“I'll update Rita. Just head back until further notice.” Mike instructed. “We should open the city again soon.” 

Learning drills like clockwork, you traveled home and waited, only needing one signal from Mike.

 ******

“Your neighbor hid so much corruption, but he's going to prison.” You explained what happened as Terry listened. “Discovering heroin in his bag opened the floodgates.”

“Damn. At least no one was killed, though.” Terry shook his head. 

“Hopefully not.” You kept that response vague because the future could expose much more. 

Exhausted despite the hour, you heated up leftovers and tried to settle down with lunch, but Mike called early. 

“We'll open the city soon. Just stay back tonight, though. Bye, Rook.” Mike hung up as quickly as responding. 

“Mike and Rita haven't opened the city yet.” You just looked toward that phone. 

“We'll be fine.” Terry understood this point while safety meant everything. 

“I'm taking a nap.” Armando excused himself from the kitchen table and headed upstairs, only watching you.  

“Are you finished eating?” You stood and planned to clean up the kitchen, but Terry insisted on helping regardless. 

“Yes, but don't worry. I got it.” Richmond gently stopped your hands from moving along. 

“Are you sure?” You still questioned Terry just in case. 

 “Yes.” Terry nodded. 

“I'll be upstairs.” You turned away from the kitchen and left, showering. 

*****

Sometime later, you realized that Armando kept the guest room door open, but your fist knocked anyway. 

Aretas began this video chat with Christine and made funny faces while noticing his little sister ‘Princess.’ Sweet laughter cackled right through. 

“C'mere.” Aretas smiled toward you and welcomed an empty side of the bed. 

“Hi!” You waved toward the phone. 

“Hello.” Christine greeted your voice while carrying her daughter. “We're about to hang up, but Armando wanted to make her laugh before we stopped talking.”

“Have a good one.” Armando bid farewell one last time until the call ended. 

“Feel better?” You looked out for Aretas and smiled. 

“Just waiting to go home.  I don't want ‘Princess' to think I'm gone.” He frowned regarding his little sister sister. 

“You haven't left her behind.” Your words tried to help out. “We've been working.”

“Okay.” Aretas wouldn't debate this point further as sunset arrived in Miami. 

Just before you'd leave to make dinner, Armando stood from the bed. 

“Don't even worry about cooking dinner. I'll order food.” Aretas suggested. 

“Thank you, but y'all won't let me do anything now.” You almost laughed this time. “Even Terry cleaned the kitchen.” 

“Returning favors because you've helped us a lot.” Aretas spoke up once more. 

“I appreciate it.” No matter what, you accepted the real compliment, leading Armando back downstairs. 

_____

“When life settles back down, what should we do next?” Terry offered the question as everyone shared takeout that night.

“Beach? I haven't gone in a while.” You volley that idea right back. 

“That sounds nice.” Terry nodded by you and still faced Armando for his  opinion. “What do you think, man?”

“We'll see.” Aretas finished his meal. “I'll feel better when this case is closed.” 

“Fair enough.” Richmond agreed. 

*****

Law enforcement concluded the investigation while safety and brightness returned to Miami at last. 

When time moved on again, you cleared this break, finally inviting Terry and Armando to the beach.

Driving, Armando rocked this tank top with matching shorts while another gold chain swung from his neck. 

You joined the passenger seat once more, yet Terry waited back, intently dodging his earbuds this afternoon. Awareness would help so much. 

Once you set up everything and sat with both men that day, peace arrived. 

Taking off your coverup as heat sizzles, you revealed that bathing suit. 

But when you turn around, Armando and Terry haven't moved from their chairs yet. 

Oh, well. 

Just as you walked along the shore, someone finally joined you here. 

Terry is now shirtless while his service tattoos inked on display. 

“Hi.” You've taken careful steps while addressing Terry. 

“Hello.” Richmond stayed cordial. 

“What's wrong, no nicknames?” You messed with him now. 

“Can't.” Terry declined. 

“Why?” Your eyes squinted as waves ebbed and flowed. 

“Look behind you.” Terry glanced over his shoulder.

Sure enough, Armando trailed your own footsteps. 

“I'll be right back.” Excusing yourself from Terry, you crossed paths with Armando. 

____

“Hey.” His slightly accented English returned as you greeted each other. 

“What's going on?” You questioned. “Terry might not feel comfortable.” 

“Sorry, but can we talk about something?” Aretas moved closer.  

“Yes. Are you all right?” The energy shifted this time around. 

When he took your hand, Armando's brown eyes nearly locked you down. 

“I miss you.” His words left your mind puzzled now. 

“I'm right here.” You say, definitely confused at this point. 

“Cariño…” Using his native language of Spanish, Armando called you “Sweetheart.”

“Yes?” You tried to ignore the nickname, but your heart jumped within. 

“Don't know how to say this, but I….” Aretas quietly struggled. 

“Take your time…” You still wanted Armando to express himself. 

“I'm in love with you.” The leveled confession stopped your tracks. 

Everything made sense this time. 

Aretas nearly living in your house. Inviting you to the hospital when Christine gave birth to his little sister. Driving. Protective. Respectful. On and on. 

“Armand…” As you shortened his name, the truth shook up countless emotions. 

“It's okay. I'm good if you don't…” Armando stopped talking out of nowhere when another person reached the shore. 

“Terry, what's wrong?” You stepped forward, genuinely concerned. 

“We should go. It's important.” Richmond pointed back to the car. 

“Oh, damn. All right.” You acknowledged your watch and returned by three chairs, gathering belongings to leave. 

*******

“Speaking with Armando in private.” Terry explained the plan when all three of you came back to your home. “Don't worry.”

“Okay. Let me know if y'all need anything.” You nodded and tried to smile before heading upstairs. 

______

“I've been holding my tongue. Really?” Terry crossed both arms while standing in the living room. 

“What are you talking about?” Aretas didn't even know what to think. 

“I don't want to lose my temper, but you know exactly what I'm saying.” Richmond arched his brow.

“Wait, hold up. Did you hear our conversation earlier?” Armando's thoughts jumbled.

“Everything.”  Terry somehow lowered his deep voice even more. 

“Look, I told the truth.” Aretas quietly defended himself. “It's better than nothing at all.” 

“Always moving first.” Terry shook his head for a moment. 

“You sound jealous, T.” Armando caught on right away. 

“So what? Maybe I am.” Terry couldn't fight anymore. 

“I've never seen you make a move.” Aretas scoffed back. 

“Don't judge me for staying private.” Richmond kept speaking about you. “I've used nicknames with her, but my choices are none of your business.” 

“She can make her own decisions, but I spoke up before you.” Thinking of your heart and ignoring Terry, Armando planned to cook instead. 

_______

Tension almost burned this space from inside out when you reached that kitchen for dinner. 

Armando and Terry sat across from each other once you joined this table. 

“Hi.” You smiled with efforts to brighten their frowns. 

“Hey.” Armando noticed you first. “There's another cookout tomorrow if you wanna go.”

“Cool.” You nodded and even mentioned Armando's little sister. “Should we babysit Princess?”

“Help me find a picnic table near Mike and Christine or my sister will start crying.” Aretas knew better. 

“Deal.” You laughed. 

Terry stayed quiet as you began to ramble, excited for this upcoming event. 

_______

Later that night, you planned to sleep, but someone knocked on your bedroom door. 

Before long, you opened up to see Armando standing in the hallway. 

“Hi.” You gently answered. “Are you out of toothpaste or something?”

“No.” Aretas chuckled. “I can't sleep.”

“Nightmares?” You stepped closer.

“No.” Armando repeated himself at first. “Just…I can't stop thinkin’ about you.”

Armand….” You struggled with his name once more, nervous as invisible butterflies rattled 

“I know…” Aretas would leave right now if you wanted. 

Fed up with your own confusion, you moved near Armando until each stance met. 

Moonlit shadows captured the bedroom as you stood nose to nose. 

“Don't break my heart.” Your voice trembled beyond words. 

“Never.” One promise grounded the truth as his lips met yours for the very first time. 

Stepping back, air quivered as you both realized what just happened. 

“Too much? You wondered, checking on Armando first.

“No. Want me to stop?” His accented English only shook more. 

“No.” You offered absolute consent and reached his chain, giving Aretas more kisses. 

Hazed by rising chemistry, you undressed one another while Armando's desperate lips greeted your neck.

Tangled on this bed, his body shadowed yours  as each kiss deepened and senses woke up. 

“Condom?” Armando nearly whispered just in case. 

“Nightstand.” You guided his path and he reluctantly turned away for protection, just hoping to worship your shape. 

From his perspective, you looked so good at the beach earlier, walking along that shore in this remarkable bathing suit. 

“We don't have to do anything.” Glancing down, Aretas held the condom between his fingers. 

“I want this to happen.” You promised, kissing him just before time moved again. 

“Me too.” Locking eyes with you, Aretas opened the piece and bit his lip, slyly noticing how our legs wrapped around his waist. 

Bliss only heightened when Armando lined up with your entrance and just waited for permission.

“Please…” Your whimpering voice searched for his presence. 

“I'll count. Look at me.” Caressing your face, Armando wanted to make you feel good. “3, 2, 1…”

“Fuck!” Safely buried inside, Aretas held back grateful shock while you clenched around him and gasped from 

“Does it hurt?” His rasping tone offered the question while dangerous hips started thrusting. 

“No.” You just couldn't help pleading over and over again. “Keep going!”

“What? I can't hear you.” Once Armando chuckled for a moment, his ego spanned outward. 

“Baby…” As one nickname slipped from your trembles, no one else mattered right now. “Don't stop.” 

Encouraged by the sounds of your desperate voice, Armando only switched positions and your own body mounted him, still not able to cum yet. 

“Look at me!” He gritted right back, prompting your eyes to move down once more. “I love you so much.” 

“I know…” Bracing his chest with your palms, you anchored with efforts to keep this future climax settled.

One coil found within your stomach unraveled before time could even help. 

Soon, you warmed the condom, involuntarily weeping as kisses returned. 

Aretas doesn't pull out right away, smiling against your lips and calming down. 

“Ready for tomorrow?” This man teased you while still acting up. 

“Have som common sense.” Once Armando pulled out, you nearly giggled before leaving him to shower alone. 

******

By morning, you tangled once more when Armando set his face between your thighs, softly guiding his beard along. 

Just when you'd climb another mountain, his phone started buzzing on the nightstand. 

Half-dressed, you casted both eyes toward the ceiling and lose momentum, but sit down to watch Armando use this phone. 

“Text messages.” Aretas gestured by the screen, but you don't even care, kissing him to make up. 

Fuck! Armando realizes. 

Terry has been pinging different notifications since last night. 

Given no other choice, you both pulled yourselves together and headed downstairs, facing Richmond. 

______

“Hold on, I need a minute with him.” No longer holding back, Terry stepped forward to acknowledge you and Armando. 

“No chance. Don't fight in my house.” You refuse to walk away. “Speak in front of me this time.”

“Fair enough.” Terry remained cordial and understood your point. Drama kept no place here. 

“We're together now. Either respect it or get out of the way.” Aretas defended your bond. 

“Did you even want her before?” Richmond wanted to know everything. 

“I love her.” Armando protected you now. “Matter of fact, who took care of everything once she left that hospital? Me, not you.” 

“Don't blame shit.” Terry remembered when this bullet almost killed you. “We brought her to the emergency room.”

“You ghosted us.”  Armando lifted his cell phone to make this point. “Be thankful she even tolerates you now. ” 

“Why did you leave like that?” Looking at Terry, you intervened for once. 

“Mama…” Richmond failed to bring up sweetness with nicknames 

“Answer my question.” You put your foot down. “If you care about me so much, why leave at all?” 

Terry admitted more. “You survived, but everyone else helped out before I could move forward.” 

“AMMO is like my family.” Your voice kept responding. “You can't take charge just because we know each other.” 

“But he can?” Terry then squinted regarding Armando. 

“Drop the conversation already.” You can't bicker anymore. “We have plans today, so please stop arguing.” 

******

“Hi!” Florida sunlight welcomed the park once more as you joined those picnic tables. 

When Armando's little sister woke up, she cooed, opening small to greet Aretas. 

“Aw, wow!” Everyone noticed when the infant dropped her head onto Armando's shoulder. 

“Miss me, huh?” Armando grinned toward this child and your feelings jumped again. 

Terry debated his exit when you held Armando's hand and beamed around your friends, happy to be alive. 

I lost you. Richmond's heart would break for good. 

[chickenparm]

Tradition - Part Eight

Check out @drawlypsy’s full version of the header that can be found here!

“Sn-Snezhnayan tradition dictates in a traditional battle, the winner is allowed to request one thing from the-” another cough, born from phlegm in his throat that rattles wetly, “from the loser.” (or, You accept a bet and despite not winning, you’re not sure if you’ve actually lost.)

Previous Part | Next Part AO3 Link

Childe/f!Reader 2,123 Words - SFW (Bamboozled into marriage, awkwardness, fluff, future smut)

---

Childe had said before that his mother was a saint. 

If so, then why would he avoid telling either of his parents of his impending nuptials? 

Following Teucer’s footsteps in the snow, you walk with the other two siblings back to what you assume is Childe’s family home. With his descriptions being as fond and intricate as they were, you’re able to pick it out from a small cluster of others. In the front there’s an obvious space for chopping firewood. A stone wall encapsulates what would be a front garden if this home were in any other country that allowed for a garden. 

Instead, it holds a few half-made snowmen, scattered sticks that have been tied together to create what seems to be swords with little handguards, and a stone bench that is close enough to the home that it doesn’t accumulate snow. The chimney above it shows that the fireplace must be on the other side of that wall. 

At the front gate, Anthon grabs your arm and speaks once more with that serious voice that doesn’t seem right coming from someone who likely still plays with the wooden swords in the yard. “Remember, don’t tell her about…y’know.”

“My lips are sealed.” You promise, even though you’re not sure why you’re doing so. Wouldn’t it make it easier to just come clean? Surely this saint of a woman would appreciate knowing that her treasured son would be doing exactly as she wished him to. 

And then you remember his other words. About how he came back different. Not quite himself. Angry, combative, impulsive. Something rumbling beneath the surface that they didn’t know how to tame in the same way they once had been able to wrangle their overexcited son. 

Childe was still as excitable, he said so himself, except it wasn’t the same. Once that energy came, the only way to vent it was through combat, discord, havoc that made his blood sing merrily in a strange echo of a song his master seemed to have composed herself. 

All it takes for mistrust to bloom is the tiniest spore. It spreads rapidly in ways you don’t expect. 

No, perhaps it’s better that you say nothing at all. 

The pathway is carefully shoveled and maintained, not even a lick of ice to be seen. Lucky for Teucer. You make it to the door, then the children give you no further time to prepare before they’re opening the door and announcing their arrival with, “Ajax’s friend is here!”

The title makes your fist clench beneath the security of your cloak. Countless times, Childe has called you comrade, yet even now with his ring on, you’re not confident that the amount of times you’d ever thought of him as a friend would need more than perhaps a finger or two to count. 

“Tsk, look at you, not even muffs to keep your ears from freezing.” A woman snaps you from your reverie as she reaches for your ears and pinches one - you don’t even feel it. They are cold. “Sit by the fire, we can get your cloak off when you’re a little warmer. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

The woman is pushy. She pushes you further into the home. She pushes you to sit down. And when she is satisfied you are warm, she pushes the cloak from your shoulders and hangs it near the fire to dry a little more before putting it up elsewhere. Only then does she realize her mistake, and introduces herself as Galina. 

It’s a pretty name, and you tell her so. Her smile doesn’t have any of that tension that Childe mentions, and in fact her eyes seem to sparkle as she thanks you for such a compliment. 

You wonder - as you stare into the fire while she bustles in the kitchen to continue the meal she’d been making with an extra portion added - how many of Childe’s “friends” have arrived here and were less than cordial. Certainly the Fatui wouldn’t be rude, not to a Harbinger’s family, at least. But Galina had seemed so delighted at something so simple as a compliment. 

The point is driven home as she returns from the kitchen as dinner is set to simmer, and pushes something warm and liquid into your hands. “You’re not a coworker of his, are you?”

The wording is specific; Teucer still is unaware of Childe’s alignment. You’d nearly forgotten. Yet her delivery speaks of the amount of times she’s had to entertain the very coworkers that she fears you’re part of.

“No, I’m not. I truly am just a… friend.” The single syllable of that word makes your hand feel heavy. You remove it from the mug and tuck it beneath your thigh to try and hide the way you want to fidget with it. “We lost contact a while ago. He told me about his family, so I thought this would be a good place to look.”

Galina’s eyes dart to the movement of your hand, but she doesn’t seem curious or intrigued. It’s the instinct of a human to naturally look at any sudden movements. After a beat or two, her lips turn into a frown and she shakes her head. “It was a good idea, but he hasn’t returned home in some time. The last letter he sent didn’t have a return address, so he got reassigned elsewhere and we won’t know until he sends another.”

In the past, you’ve been told that you’re rather like an open book. Your heart sits on your sleeve and your emotions are plain on your face. Disappointment must have shined through, because Galina reaches out to place a hand on your knee - it’s warm through the thick fabric. “But you’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you need to come up with another plan. Ajax is very prompt with sending a letter once he’s gotten to wherever new place he’s meant to be.”

“When was his last letter delivered?”

“He dated it for a month ago, it was delivered last week.” Galina answers, obviously understanding that you’re coming up with a plan already. 

If it was dated a month ago, and delivered last week, then that would leave three weeks for the travel time. Quite a distance, considering you had arrived here from Liyue after nearly a week yourself on that boat. You take a cautious sip of the steaming mug, hold back a grimace at the temperature, then ask with a burnt tongue, “And where had he been stationed before that?”

“Let’s see… Teucer has the letter in his bedroom somewhere, goodness knows where it might be now. But the last few letters have been strange. Quite a few haven’t had return addresses, and the ones that do are all over the place. They must be running him ragged.”

Then that settles it. With a little sigh and another sip now that you can’t feel the temperature anymore, you ask, “Could I stay until his next letter arrives?”

---

Childe doesn’t quite know the specifics of what has been happening in Sumeru. 

For the most part, all of the Harbingers take action separately from one another. Individual moving parts that accomplish a variety of goals, both personal and for the cause they’re tenuously united under. Some perhaps more tenuous than others, of course. 

But it must have been something truly concerning, if the figure in front of him is anything to go off of. 

“Lesser Lord Kusanali has graciously held off on ordering any sort of forceful ejection. I think she hopes you’ll find what you’re looking for and leave.”

The young man in front of him is familiar, somehow. There’s a twisting in his gut, almost as if Childe is very aware that this person is distasteful to him in some way. The sort of sensation you’d feel toward a coworker you’re forced to cooperate with while enduring a bad attitude and a big mouth. 

Childe’s lips turn down, and he tilts his head a little to get a look beneath the brim of his hat. Faint reminiscence spikes again, but Childe never forgets a face, especially of someone so rude to him for seemingly no reason at all. 

Or, for a reason he’s not involved with. Whatever Dottore did here, it’s not Childe’s concern, and his impatience shines through, “If Lesser Lord Kusanali would just let me know the Traveler’s whereabouts, then I’ll be out of Sumeru faster than you can blink.”

The figure’s shoulders tense, his lips turning downward. “The Traveler. I should have known. If the Fatui are looking to finish the job, you’re too late. The Traveler left the country over a week ago.”

A week. So, he’s behind. You’d be arriving in Liyue at this point, most likely. Childe’s mind wanders for a moment as he does the math on travel times and the likelihood of you smacking him if he were to just grab hold of you and kiss you already-

“Well? That’s what you came for, isn’t it? Get lost.”

“Look, whatever happened here before, I didn’t have anything to do with it. So you can drop the hostility, unless you’re looking for a fight?” Childe has already mapped out the area; it’s secluded enough that there would be no risk for intervention. However, there’s an Anemo vision on this one’s person, and that could be either a good thing or a bad thing.

The figure scoffs, violet eyes rolling to the sky if not for the wide brim of his hat blocking the way. “Oh, I’m well aware you had nothing to do with it. I just don’t like you, Childe.”

And now Childe wants that fight. It was a taunt before, now he’s chomping at the bit beneath a carefully calm veneer. The only sign of what lurks beneath is the tweak of his jaw muscle. The young man’s chin juts to the side, his arms crossing. “Well? What’ll it be? I’d love to fight and make you fall even further behind.”

God, still Childe hates him. It isn’t until he’s nearing Gandharva Ville that he wonders why his thoughts supplied a phrase of such familiarity. 

…

For how long he’s been stationed here, Liyue could serve as a comfortable replacement for his homeland, if necessary. It isn’t, of course, but at least he’s relaxed in the atmosphere as Zhongli tells him that you had been here only a few weeks before, asking for Childe’s location. 

“And you didn’t tell them to wait?”

“You would have me ask the Traveler to waste an indeterminate amount of time waiting for you to return to Liyue?” Zhongli levels him with a deep-set expression of dissatisfaction. “Even I think that’s a little too much to expect.”

“I’ve come back within weeks every time I’ve had to go elsewhere. This wasn’t that different, you know that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Zhongli is normally willing to patiently ignore any poor argument that Childe will put out for the sake of allowing the conversation to flow, but there’s a strange impatience in the Archon’s body language as he leans back in the chair. Is that his foot tapping? “What I do know is that the reason you continued to default here rather than elsewhere is currently in another country. Why would I assume you’d return to Liyue otherwise?”

Childe’s mouth snaps shut so quickly his teeth click together, and his train of thought slows to a halt. It’s a valid point, and one that he’d quietly accepted, but he didn’t expect Zhongli of all people to get him backed into a corner like this. 

A comfortable corner, one that Childe accepted, but trapped nonetheless. 

“Does that mean the Traveler was here, though?”

…

“So, the Traveler’s fiancé comes trotting into my shrine. You’re like a little dog, sniffing at the ground, following a trail. Or perhaps even a fox?”

“If the Great Guuji Yae labels me as such, then a fox I must be.” Childe doesn’t like the look in her eye. Yae Miko knows all of his secrets at just a glance. The false cut of his smile does nothing to hide them. “My intentions are only good, however.”

“I never claimed they would be otherwise. But I might be suspicious now…”

“Guuji Yae, please-”

Yae’s voice lilts with laughter, the tips of her fingers ghosting over her mouth as if they would do anything to hide it. Childe is certain that her eyes are glowing. “Oh hush. I’m well aware of what you’re here for. But I’d still like you to say it.”

Childe’s cheeks hurt from smiling when he so desperately wants to scowl. His cheeks are just warm enough for him to feel embarrassed further. Why was it so easy to say these sorts of things to you, but not to nearly anyone else? 

“I’m looking for my… Traveler.”

“Your Traveler? I wasn’t aware you had one. Could you describe them for me? In great detail?”

“My fiancée, then. The Traveler. Guuji Yae, if you could be a little more forthcoming, the distance is growing larger the longer this takes.”

Yae makes a sound behind her teeth, one that sounds disappointed as if she’d been looking forward to further haranguing and harassing Childe. As her lips twist into an annoyed frown, Childe wonders if she perhaps used a magnifying glass to burn ants to amuse herself when she was young. 

“They chartered a ship out of Ritou.” And it isn’t until he’s almost to the steps of the mountain that she relents further and calls, “To some dumpy little fishing village. I heard it’s quite cold this time of year.”

---

It’s an odd week. 

Briefly, you meet Childe’s father, Maks. At first, you expected someone similar to Childe in build, but the man is more akin to the shape of a bear than a human being. Dinner that night is interesting when you sit between Anthon and Teucer, picking at the fish on your plate as Maks scrutinizes you through bushy eyebrows with deep-set eyes. 

It’s difficult to see where his gaze is tracking to. At first you think it’s your face, then your left hand, then the way you nervously pick at your plate. You’re not quite sure. But then something changes and he tilts his head up a little - the serious expression is gone, and in its place is a surprisingly jovial smile. 

Maks is a fisherman - the captain of his own boat and crew. Due to the hazards of moving through the ice fields, his returns home are limited to once every two weeks or so to drop off their catch and visit family. When you explain that you’re a friend of Ajax’s, his smile wavers for just a moment and you catch a glimpse of that tension you’ve been told about. 

And then it’s gone. And Maks is laughing and saying he’s glad his son has made some friends that aren’t so entwined with his line of work. Teucer’s head tilts to the side, his mouth opens, breath whistling through his missing teeth, and you hurriedly answer, “Yes, I just don’t have the charisma to sell toys, it seems. Not for lack of Ajax trying to recruit me, though.”

Maks nods in approval - of what, you’re not quite sure.

By the next morning, he’s packed up to head back out on the water, announcing he’ll be back a bit sooner than usual In passing last night, he mentioned that despite the income being sent by Ajax, Maks can’t quite hang his hat up just yet. There are twenty men working on his ship that depend on the employment and wages he provides. 

And the sea calls him, he says. Perhaps there’s more of Maks in his son than he thinks; fighting calls to Childe like the sea calls to his father. 

Maks kisses his wife, hugs each of his children from oldest to youngest, and yanks you into a hug as well that you’re dwarfed by. You’re not sure how to respond, but he doesn’t give you a chance before he’s murmuring, “You’ll be good for him,” and pulling away to leave once again. 

Galina doesn’t show that she’s overheard anything, and the children are already off to take care of their morning chores. You’re left alone standing near the front door, a chill creeping in at the bottom of the frame as you ponder what exactly that might mean. Your toes grow cold through your thick socks, but you don’t quite feel that as you remain distracted. 

Childe’s mother calls to you from the kitchen, and you hurry along to assist without a second thought. And later that night, as you lay on the cot near the fireplace with your blankets piled high and your eyes following the shapes of the flames, you wonder about the last time it was that you felt like you were home. 

The feeling you’re having now is so unfamiliar that you wonder if you can recall such a time at all.

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Bill Scully, MSR, and Pain (Part I)

How to melt the Abominable SnowBilly, Season 2 through Season 7 (IVF arc not included.)

**Note**: I had to eliminate fics not specifically related to an illness or injury because the word capacity on Tumblr is uncharitably short.

Loose chronological order below~

SammyLovesASOIAF's I Don't Want You Like A Best Friend

He chuckled to himself. The Scully siblings were a weird juxtaposition of different traits. Bill Jr. was strict, Melissa was carefree, Scully was careful, and Charles—well, he was always in absentia. 

AU-- Post One Breath Mulder is almost creamed by a firework before Bill Scully saves him.

@living-in-unreality/@television-overload/ContentsPriceless's beautiful (Ao3)

The pieces slowly come together in his mind, everything he knows about Fox Mulder. His mother must have seen it long ago, hence her willingness to help him this morning. And he would have stood in the way.

Bill Scully can see the love in Mulder's attempts to paint on Scully's makeup for her.

MldrItsMe's A Favor

“Should Dana be out of bed?” Bill grumbled.

Mulder involuntarily squeezed Scully a little closer to himself. “She asked me to,” he said. He thought better of adding “hold her” and just let the situation speak for itself.

AU-- Redux II Scully is suffering on her deathbed: 96 pounds and swiftly losing independence.

@scully-loves-ruthie's cancer arc: mulder sneaks a dying scully out

Bill will storm into her hospital room after, a firecracker beneath a teacup ready to explode sending the fine shards of his rage into the newlyweds.  He’ll find himself frozen his fuse stamped out at the sight of his sister’s frail and fading body wrapped like a puzzle piece inside Mulder’s arms, the couple sound asleep.

AU-- Redux II Bill doesn't rip Mulder's head off after finding out he and Scully were quickly married.

intrepidment's Bill and me

"You had talent for medicine, Dana, everyone admitted that. You would've had every right to be haughty, but you never flaunted your talent then. Then you changed your mind, you became an investigator, and suddenly you're this overconfident professional."

I opened my mouth to rebuke him, but I had to admit he was right. Somewhat. 

Post Redux II Bill and Scully have a siblings' semantics fight over Mulder's napping body.

amorfati3215/Amorfati32’s (FFN) Number 9 for the dialogue prompt.

Mulder hasn’t got very far when he hears Bill call out, stopping him in his tracks. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Post Redux II Bill gives Mulder his version of a blessing.

@lotsoforangesoutside/@lotzzoforangezoutside‘s (Ao3) Seven Pound and Six Ounces (Ao3)

He’s never held a day-old baby before this one.

And now, Fox Mulder can proudly say that he has held one, changed his diaper, and napped with the tiny thing like a log in the cradle of his arm.

With his other arm held by one Dana Scully, his hand holding hers. On the sofa in her big brother’s living room.

Post Emily Bill lets Mulder and Scully be.

soverysesual's The Truth Not Considered

He frowned as he observed the scene in front of him: his sister was sitting up, her head resting in an awkward position as she dozed, the mug of tea precariously balanced in one of her hands, while Mulder held her other hand grasped between both of his, as if he was clinging to her for dear life.

Post Emily Bill (reluctantly) helps Scully get comfy next to Mulder.

Marguerite's (Ao3) When the Bough Broke

Bill is standing between us and the embers of last night's fire. Scully has not stirred; I still keep her within the circle of my arms. Her brother's face is unreadable. I make a helpless gesture with my hand, but he stops me and points to my face. It's still wet with tears.

Post Emily Bill finally understands and becomes comrade-in-arms.

pen-paper-aliens/theficisoutthere/aka PPA's 95 ❤️

She’s still holding that hand when we walk in, nobody notices, or if they do, they don’t care. Bill notices too, but even he doesn’t say anything. What do you say to a mother who lost a child she never knew? 

AU-- Post Emily Bill lets his sister find comfort in her partner.

Jen's (mulderscreek)

Christmas Eve & Airports and Christmas & Mrs. Scully's House

"He's upstairs," Dana said and could swear she heard Bill mutter something under his breath. 

AU-- S6 Scully convinces Mulder to join her and her family for Christmas and ends up nursing his unexpected strep throat.

@baronessblixen‘s (Ao3) 

Christmas With The Scullys (Tumblr)

“My bed,” she says, just to clarify. She hears a clatter from behind her and doesn’t need to turn around to know that Bill is there and listening.

S7 Bill and Scully battle it out after she brings an injured Mulder to the Scully family Christmas party.

O Holy No - Chapter 7 (Tumblr)

“Where’s the guy?” he asks, chewing with his mouth open.

“Do you mean Mulder?” Her brother nods, stuffing more chips into his mouth. It reminds her of when they were teenagers and Bill, towering over her and Melissa, would steal their snacks and interrogate them, claiming it was his duty when their father wasn’t home.

AU-- Mulder and Scully, newly minted couple that they are, both fly out to Bill's house for Christmas... and are greeted with unexpected shenanigans.

Shoshana's

Almost Home (4/4)

"Hey, wife," he said, approaching her from behind.

Mulder wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder.

"I don't think Bill suspects a thing," she told him gravely.

AU-- Post Requiem Mulder is returned with ongoing medical complications; but that doesn't stop the leftover Conspiracy or Bill Scully's lingering concerns.

And salliejohns's

Mr. Mulder, Mother Maggie, and Empty Place Settings

It was a big risk, but it paid off well. We were able to establish contact with our old boss and he came through for us, sending Bill Scully, Jr. a cryptic message about his dry cleaning.

AU-- S9 Bill is happy to find his sister and her partner alive in California; but that doesn't erase the pain of losing touch with his mother while Maggie raises baby William in hiding.

Hestia01‘s (Ao3) The Next Great Adventure Chapter 1 and Chapter 5

"Bill, they're here!"

Bill looks around, now looking concerned for his mother's grip on reality. "Who's here?"

"Dana's here! She brought Fox along, too! You can't see them, but they stayed!"

Giving his mother a pitying look, he nods indulgently. "Sure, Mom, whatever helps."

AU-- The crack adventures of Mulder and Scully after death (Skinner hoarding their poster and Bill getting his comeuppance included.)

@incidental-ao3/incidental's

Keep It All the Year

“Where’d he go?” she asked. He shrugged.

“Got in a cab,” he said. “I don’t know where to.” Scully groaned.

“Maybe one of you should stay put so the other can find them,” he said, but she wasn’t listening at all.

“He left his phone at the hotel, I bet he went back to get it,” she said, barreling passing Bill down the stairs and grabbing the keys.

AU-- S6 Mulder is dragged out to Scully's torturous family Christmas in San Diego, where the franchise becomes a complete disaster all the way 'round (Diana included.)

bluesamutra's una via - Chapter 4, Chapter 5 and Chapter 6

Dana had been at death’s door before he showed up at the hospital with a computer chip and a story straight out of a Michael Crichton book.  Bill had stood by in disbelief when she, a woman of science, trusted him enough to put it in her neck.

And yet.

And yet, he had watched from the shadows of her room, unseen, when Mulder crept into her room that same night and wept silently into her hand. 

AU-- Post Amor Fati Bill Scully's family reunion takes a serious turn when Matthew almost drowns and Mulder injures his shoulder during the rescue.

@scully-eats-sushi/ijustknew's

You're Not Alone and You're Not Alone II

She’d barely stepped inside their mother’s home before Bill had started inspecting her injuries, making her instantly regret not wearing a turtleneck. He went so far as to grasp her chin and tilt her head up to get a better look at them. Irritated, she’d shoved his hand away and declared “I’m fine” before stepping past him to embrace her mother.

Post Millennium Mulder and Scully are navigating their relationship post episode, with their own personal complications as well as her family, profiling, and on-the-job demands.

Red0313's Nothing Breaks Like a Heart

We make eye contact. He knows I am awake. I can’t even fake it. This should be good. Kick a man while he’s down, literally.

“Mister Mulder, I see you’re going to be just fine. That seems to make my sister very happy,” he huffs. Something’s eating him up.

S7 Bill observes his sister's pain and penance after Mulder takes a bullet for her.

Susan Proto’s Barbecue Series 14, The - Labor of Love

She must have picked up Matty, because all I hear from him now are soft whimpers instead of hysterical crying. And then I hear her ask, "What happened, Bill?"

"He got hit by the Harley. He ran into the street and got hit by the Harley."

A Harley?

AU-- Mulder has been bullied by Bill for years, and finally sets his foot down after the other throws away his engagement ring.

@tatooedlaura-blog/tatooedlaura/Laura Sprys​’s Always Been Yours

Mulder was out of the shower and in the kitchen helping Scully with a makeshift dinner when Charlie and Bill walked through the door. Scully's eyes swam again when she saw her older brother. Hugging her tightly, he looked over toward Mulder and nodded his head.

In shocked surprise, he walked over a shook Bill's hand, "hello again."

AU-- S7 Maggie is unexpectedly killed in a car accident; and Bill keeps to himself while Mulder prevents Scully from falling apart.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[the-clones-deserve-the-best]

Got an idea to do a little rewrite of episode 6 but with Yord instead of Osha thanks to a post by @junocornkiwi

This is also being posted (and modified) on Archive.

I only wanted to post a small part, but the last one I tried posting felt like three whole chapters instead of one

___

All Yord remembered was him. Him being in his head. That only added more stress to the fact that he plowed through his friends like they were training dummies. He tried to save his comrade but realized he only delayed her fate.

After his leg was cut by the red saber, Yord could only lay helpless as the masked stranger impaled her and pulled another Jedi into his saber with her before decapitating both of them.

Then he remembered being with Jecki as they escorted Osha back to the ship to get her away from danger and warn the council of what happened here. After Ithia Paan's death was sensed by the trio through the force, Osha desperately wanted to go back for Sol.

Yord volunteered to go alone. Osha was safer with Jecki than him. They were closer. She never once assumed Osha's guilt.

"When you get back to the temple, find Master Plo Koon. He's the master who completed my training. He will have the patience to complete your training. It's the best way we can protect you, Verosha is to make sure you can defend yourself."

He looked Jecki in the eyes before he left. They always bickered and made fun of each other. They were siblings. They also had an undying loyalty to each other. He knew Jecki didn't want him to go, but she put her emotions aside.

"May the force be with you." She finally said before guiding Osha towards the ship.

When he got back, he saw Ithia Paan laying dead not far from Him. Her neck was snapped. There was no sign of a saber wound. It really unsettled him. A jedi, especially one as skilled as Ithia Paan, killed without a weapon.

Besides that, he only remembered saving Mae from him and seeing his actual face before everything went black.

He sprung awake in a mysterious cave. His arm had been bandaged, and his wound healed. He was shirtless as he usually was when he slept.

Yord looked across the cave and saw his robes. He got up to approach them. They were not only clean. They had been ironed and neatly folded, placed above a towel to keep them from getting stained by the rock they were set on.

He went to put them back on when he saw another pair of clothes. Civilian clothes from what it seemed. He unconsciousnessly opted for them. Black Hakama pants with a loose white sleevless shirt. The fabric felt smooth against his skin. The boots blended into his pants. His feet never felt warmer.

He bent over to pick up a collection of throwing knives. Like Mae had. He examined them before seeing a figure out of the corner of his eyes. He reverse gripped one of them, holding it up.

It was him. He saw Yord but ignored him, knowing he'd follow. Which Yord did. He sensed Yord's tension. He knew Yord wouldn't attack from behind like he did earlier. That was to save Mae and Sol. Qimir had no hostages. He was going about his day on his private ocean planet like he didn't shish kebab two jedi and snap another's neck to prove a point to Mae

Yord observed Qimir closely. He watched as Qimir just stood at the edge of the ocean. Stared off into the distance before removing his robes. He was naked, and Yord felt a flush in his face. His heart trembled, and his breath got deeper. Once he recollected himself, he slowly approached. His attention turned to Qimir's lightsaber.

Through the force, he could hear the battle that took place hours earlier. The sound of the blade cutting through some of the most highly skilled Jedi like they were defeneless younglings.

He bent down to put up the saber. It was very well crafted, much lighter than it looked. It fascinated him.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Qimir called out. Yord immediately got defensive. He ignited the blade, staring Qimir down. "You can feel your old power returning, can't you?"

"Don't come any closer!" Yord yelled out. "I won't hesitate."

"If you're not going to join me, I'd like to put my clothes back on." Qimir responded. He fully submerged himself. Yord felt the urge to use the force to keep him there and drown him. The feeling made him smile a bit. "I know you're considering it."

Yord snapped back to reality. His eyes met Qimir's. He remembered that the saber was active. He could have stuck Qimir down.

"You're wondering if it's okay to strike me down." Qimir started. He stared into Yord's eyes. "In the heat of battle, it's justified. A few hours later? It's vengeance."

Yord got distracted by Qimirs other saber. He snapped back into focus. He didn't mean to stare but it caught his eye. He turned his head to block it from his vision.

"Did you kill Sol?" Yord asked. Qimir just stared at him with disappointment.

"No." He answered

"Did you kill Jecki?" He asked with more concern in his eyes.

"No." Qimir answered. I saw her and Osha get on the ship for Coruscant."

A flash of relief filled Yord's eyes for his little sister. Little Jecki, while always appearing composed, has a violent side to her when she is in a fight. She could probably have defeated Qimir if she had complete control over her emotions.

"Weird you asked about him first." Qimir interupted. "Considering his role in what happened to us."

"I don't know you!" Yord yelled. "You killed my friends!"

"I only killed those who threatened my existence." Qimir responded. He slowly put his pants on, watching Yord's eyes glaze his chest. He walked calmly past Yord. He expected Yord to follow, which he did. It pleased Qimir to have an old friend with him again.

"Where'd you get that scar?" Yord asked.

"How do you think?" Qimir asked.

"How am I supposed to know? I wasn't there!" Yord snapped

"Not physically. You felt it through our conmection. Although we were systems apart. You felt my pain. You've got the same scar on your back. They just took your memories and convinced you it was a birth mark."

"Who?" He asked

"The jedi." Qimir responded

"The Jedi wouldn't do that to me!" Yord snapped. Qimir didn't respond. Just looked him in the eyes and smirked. "What's so funny?"

"That you believe that. I find it so cute that you believe that." Qimir replied. "That the Jedi wouldn't do whatever possible to keep themselves in the positive light. Even to you."

"I don't believe you!" Yord replied.

"Then don't. The longer you're here, the faster the effects will wear off. You picked my clothes over your robes. It's already starting."

"You cleaned my robes? And steamed them?" Yord asked innocently.

"Just how you always liked it." Qimir smiled. Despite the mass murder of his friends a few hours before, Qimir's smile and warmth felt genuine. Yord couldn't help but be curious about this bond they once had.

Yord followed Qimir back into his cave. Qimir started making dinner. He gave him a cup of cold water, also just how he liked it. He smelled something familiar. Something he hadn't had in a while. It was an old favorite that he hadn't had in a while.

"Are you trying to seduce me and get my clothes off?" Yord asked.

"Only if that's what you want." Qimir smirked. "Right now my objective is to remind you of our dyad."

Dyad? Yord thought.

"We were an unstoppable dyad in the force. We could see through each other's eyes, hear what the other can hear even from light years away. Our power was great and we could have brought the Jedi in a better path to being more compassionate." Qimir started.

"Through our dyad, I could sense that you made knight again two years ago, you took a young Zygerrian girl named Tasi Lowa as your first padawan. You went out of your way to make her feel like she actually belongs."

Yord tensed up at the idea of Qimir knowing about Tasi. He thought of the worst.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't hurt Tasi." Qimir started. "I'd help train her so she would be a powerful warrior. More powerful than both of us. She could be strong enough to take over her planet and start fixing their wrong doings."

"Don't mention Tasi!" Yord got defensive. "Leave her out of this."

"You're so defensive." Qimir observed. He turned his attention to their dinner. "You see her like a little sister. A daughter, maybe?"

"Maybe. Jecki is more of a little sister to me. I guess Tasi is.."

"You always wanted to be a father, Yord." Qimir's face lit up at the memory. "You were always protective of me when we would go on missions. I still believe that you'd be an amazing father if ever given the chance."

Yord sat there with a confused look on his face. Why can't he remember any of this? If Qimir is telling the truth, why can't he remember it. If Qimir was lying, why else would he have kept him alive when he could have easily killed him like they were enemies. He didn't. He just knocked him unconsciousness then took him to his private retreat and healed him. Gave him fresh clothes and, from the smell, is making an old favorite of his for dinner.

"Cortosis." Qimir changed the subject. "Good for sensory deprivation and against lightsabers."

"Is that why you were headbutting lightsabers like a mad man?" Yord laughed. He was quite amused by Qimir's antics. He had to admit he respected that cockiness.

"Yes. It also fills your enemies with fear and confusion." Qimir replied, handing Yord a bowl of soup. "Here, remember this? We ate this a lot as padawans."

Yord took a bite and felt a burst of nostalgia. Suddenly, he had a flashback of Plo Koon bringing them food after a successful mission. It was like being a little family. Master Plo and Sol taking them out to lunch with the extra crdits they snuck or saved from the last misson.

Yord smiled, thinking of the times. Master Plo was always patient with him when he was a padawan. Anytime Yord felt frustrated with his progress, Plo Koon took him a side and just let him vent his frustration. It helped him clear his mind so he could focus better when Master Plo went over the lesson again with him.

"Give it a shot." Qimir interupted. Handing his helmet to Yord. "It'll help you unlock more memories. Your memories are yours and should always have been."

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[stromuprisahat]

Grisha wedding/family stuff I thought up because the soldier thing makes me weepy

Some grisha will exchange teeth or other bones. These are people who wear animal bones for God's sake.

Dead soldiers demanding their comrade take off a finger and give the bones to their widowed spouse, siblings exchanging baby teeth on a string around their wrist. Hell maybe the string is woven out of their hair. I know Chinese people make calligraphy brushes out of their baby's first haircut maybe they wove it from parents' and baby's hair. Alongside pictures in lockets they have hair or teeth.

These all have historical basis, hairwork jewelry, mourning jewelry with hair in them, and queen Victoria made jewelry out of her kid's teeth.

I guess cutting their palms and joining their blood together is really hardcore because of the fear of hand injuries.

Let Grisha be weird and have strange traditions because persecuted minorities should not have to be perfect to be accepted by mainstream society.

I was saving this ask for later, because I absolutely adore the idea, and I was hoping to come up with more, but I guess I can come back to it in reblogs...

This is exactly my kind of thing- I've been collecting animal bones as a child, burial rites are among my favourite topics and while I hope grandma will stay with us for a long time, I'm looking forward to throwing her around our garden (She insists on cremation and dispersion.).

If Victorians could make jewellery from body parts, why couldn't Grisha? The time setting fits and people used to be less oversensitive about such things.

One of my favourite quotes from Hannibal claims human bones used to be among first materials used for fabrication of musical instruments. Mental image of deceased mother, "singing" to her children this way long after her death keeps haunting me ever since.

Since Grisha apparently aren't limited by strangeness of objects they want to fuse with their own bodies, another thing came to my mind- American Mary has a scene, where the MC transplants an arm from one twin to another and vice versa. Not only I can see this applied to close siblings- kebben anyone?- but why exchange ordinary rings in marriage, when you have a way to fuse in other creature's bodyparts? If Judeo-Christian God created woman from man's rib, why would Grisha need twelve pairs?

note: I need the milk teeth brooch like yesterday! And I don't like gold, so that says something.

[i-eat-deodorant]

[Shakes you] TELL US ABOUT YOUR LAMB

LMAO watching this appear in my inbox in real time was a treat.

In my headcanons, the sheep were total pacifists that lived in high-altitude villages in the mountains outside of Shamura's territory. Lamb did have a twin, but it died in utero; they were born as a single child in a species that normally births in doubles. Because of this, they compensated for the lack of siblings by making everyone their friend. They're generally pretty easygoing, gregarious, and considered their place in their family an integral part of who they are.

That's why being the sole surviving sheep hurt them so much.

Sheep get distressed when separated from their flock, and Lamb is no different. Shamura's genocide tore away everything they loved: their family, their heritage, their homeland. by the time lamb was sent to the executioner's block, Lamb had no purpose left. They had nothing--nothing except for an all-consuming rage at what the Bishops took away from them.

Later on, Lamb would gather up the courage to ask him exactly why he chose them–why, in a meadow of flowers, he’d plucked a wilted one. "Wilted one?" came his rumbling laugh. "I chose you, vessel, because you called to me, even if you did not know me by name then. Your comrades, they soiled themselves and cried and sang sheer terror…but you?" An emaciated finger lifted their head, cold finger digging into the soft underside their jaw. "Every death, every head that rolled onto the ground–it fed your fury like an open fire. I could see it. You called out to me, in your final darkest moment, and wished to repay each and every one of their deaths in blood."

That's where TOWW comes in.

The thing about Lamb that sets them apart from all of TOWW’s previous vessels is that they were stripped clean of their worldly attachments before they were crowned. When they were resurrected, it was to a strange and unfamiliar world where everything they once knew was gone, and all they had left was a blood-red crown and a need to kill.

It made them incredibly susceptible to TOWW’s suggestions: of anger, of revenge, of rebuilding a community (but not the same, nothing will ever be the way it used to be) in his name. TOWW gave them purpose. They were literally his vessel–emptied of their own hopes and dreams and replaced with his. His fury was their fury. His hurt and pain was their hurt and pain. When they cut down every bishops and tore the hearts from their chests, they felt glee and satisfaction as if they were personally betrayed by each of them. The lamb they once were died on the executioners block; the Lamb that rose again had no life, and so they lived for him. There was no other choice except to serve. They were devoted, yes, but it was something so dark and twisted it could barely be called love.

It was a one way street of loyalty that worked for the both of them as long as Lamb could live for the TOWW. Their devotion made them much better than the other vessels, because they were willing to push themselves to the point of self-sacrifice to fulfill their god’s wishes.

However, the thing about experiencing the complete destruction of everything they’ve loved for a taste of godly power was that they came out at the end of it knowing it wasn’t worth it. Over the course of their crusades they learned how Narinder sacrificed everything he knew to become more powerful, and got chained as a result. It drew them closer to him, because they empathized with his loss, but they never agreed with his end goal.

So when he asked them to give up themselves, their followers, and the little community they’ve built from the ground up to set him “free”?

He's war-torn; they may not have seen it then, lost in their awe and their grief, but they could recognize the signs now. Hunched back. Nicked ears. Arms rotted to nothing. An eternally bleeding robe, always a wet shade of red. (He's tired. They'd know–they saw the same thing every time they looked in the mirror.) And so they fought. One last time. For him.

Personally I don’t think Lamb was ever afraid of death. They're surrounded by it. They've died way too many times to fear it, even if this last one would be final. Instead, they refused to give up the crown because of him. They knew him, or thought they knew him. They pictured themselves in his position: ascended, free, with all the power that they wanted and the world at their whim and so utterly alone. Power, they learned, did not buy happiness.

In the end, Lamb defied TOWW because they loved him too much to see him destroy himself, all over again.

It’s really hard to justify the in-game mechanic discrepancy of Narinder’s follower form (why did he survive when the other bishops just exploded?) and I think it’s Lamb’s unconscious will holding them back. They never wanted to kill TOWW. Despite everything, they’re still grateful for him being there to catch them and give them a second chance for retribution. Whenever he fell, they wanted to be there to catch him too. 

When they brushed off the mountain of bloodied robes and chains and found a trembling little thing they slew curled in the epicenter, the last thing they expected was to fall for him all over again.

Post-game, Lamb tries to put everything behind them and focus on the cult, but it’s hard! They develop a bit of a two-faced reputation, where they’re incredibly kind and sweet to those in their flock but will coldly and mercilessly strike down anyone outside of it. They’re incredibly conflicted about this, to the point where they see the ruthless part of themselves as an alter ego, where they’re an impostor that took the skin and flesh of an innocent little Lamb after resurrection. Lamb also blames the crown for corrupting their personality (it didn’t, it just amplified a preexisting personality trait that wouldn’t have been expressed had Lamb not gone through what they did) and fears that the more they use their godly powers, the faster this evil side will consume them. Crusades always come with a bit of internal crisis. 

Since serving Narinder was their purpose for so long, they kind of flounder on where to go afterwards. For a while, Lamb gets severe separation anxiety when they don’t know where Narinder is–had they made the wrong decision, turning him into a mortal? What if he dies? They live because of him, and if he’s done, they straight up do not have any reason to live anymore. 

Even though he’s a little pissy bitch for the first half a year he’s a mortal, Narinder actually helps ground Lamb a lot. After centuries as an immortal god, they’ve become detached to their followers. Narinder, a former god, had long forgottem how to be a mortal. His slow road to recovery was him relearning how to appreciate life again in its fleeting little details, and through him Lamb was also able to relearn what they’ve forgotten as well. 

Nothing’s ever perfect–they cannot fix the past, and even resurrection cannot bring back non-followers. However, Lamb has already built a life for themselves from nothing once. After the Bishops, after TOWW, they’re able to put the worst of their traumas to rest, and rebuild themselves; a death god dying and being reborn anew. 

[willow-schmillow]

Hello, all! I'm writing this about how in-system relationships function for me, in hopes of opening discussion and also perhaps offering clarity to anyone who feels confused by why a relationship between their alters appears the way it does :3

In-system relationships, for me, are dynamics that do not exist for me "externally" - i.e. as I am treated as one person interacting with the world (which doesn't know I have parts :P ). The most obvious example in my system are the familial relationships between alters.

Externally, I have a good relationship with my brother. I also have in-system sibling relationships occuring:

- Kit and Lee were (past tense due to a split + dormancies) brothers in the same way that best friends would consider themselves comrades in arms at the world's shittiest job. They were siblings and equals in the same fight to survive, and supported each other like they were dragging each other through Hell to the finish line.

This is fundamentally different from my external brother: I never want him to feel like he has to support me, and I never want him to understand how much I'm suffering.

Also:

- Gabriel and Monika are a big brother and a little sister: they protect each other against the rest of the world, and, to Monika, Gabriel is the princely big brother who saved her.

This is fundamentally different from my external brother as well: he's younger than me, and *I* feel a duty to protect and support *him.*

On familial relationships, we also have a parent-child dynamic:

- Ethan is the dad to Valentine and Kailey: he's supportive through their difficult emotional struggles, and reassures them that they're safe and capable.

... Given that I'm posting here, you can take a guess as to how this is different from my actual relationship with my parents.

The real sticker for me is in-system romantic relationships. These are so very, very different from my external relationship with my boyfriend:

- Kit and Cal's relationship allows them to work in tandem and fluidly switch, something that is an exception within this system. They're very attuned with each other's needs and limits: the separation between them is necessary at this point in time, but I wouldn't be surprised if they fused when we're more stable.

No matter how close I am with another person, I'll never be able to feel exactly what they feel and need - the in-system relationship fulfills a need for quick reactions, flexibility, and emotional validation in what's an awful job (the two of them are in charge of dealing with our parents).

Also:

- I (Kylee) have a relationship with Gabriel. For us, it's about supporting each other through the most difficult times. When we comfort each other, it feels less like leaning on another person for help and more like teamwork to make the whole system feel better and run as smoothly as possible. We're here to support and comfort *us*, because we're one team that has to get this done and we might as well do it in a way that we get along well in.

I hope this all made sense! I'd love to hear about y'all's thoughts on in-system relationships, as well :3

[elegyofthemoon]

I WILL THROW U THE LANDAU SIBS FOR BINGO :DD

WE LOVE LANDAU SIBLINGSSSSS I'll be shorter with the blurb here because three characters but :> thanks nick <3

blank character bingo

I LOVE SERVALLLL SO MUCH okay so you know Huosen. When I got to Serval's companion quest??? I FELT LIKE I WAS JUST SITTING HERE WATCHING HUOSEN'S WHOLE CHARACTER STORY IT WAS ASLKDJFASLKJHLK

So when I say that I relate very deeply with Serval, I really mean that I do. Like I love Servalia, and tbh I would also kiss Serval if given the chance, but also. She's too much like me sometimes that I'm like :I that's weird

I think it hits even more now because she also got Booted out of the research team because she would have stopped the Stellaron with her research. She wanted to help people and I just KNOW she could, but she got booted by her Best Friend (girlfriend/wife) of all people to do it. The person who was your right hand, and the person whom you've blurred yourself into. That kind of betrayal Hurts like hell.

But honestly, good for her for creating the workshop, and eventually finding her own place again in Belobog when every bit of that tiny city reeked of Cocolia. And even making Mechanical Fever? I admire her so much. She's so strong and I love her so much. My love <3

GEPAAAARD LANDAUUUUUUUUUUU I feel bad for this guy because I took one look at him and then I blasted him with my Gender Beam.

In which I project like hell on Gepard. Familial duties, insecurity/anxiety? You name it he's got it LOL

Admittedly when I first met Gepard, I DIDN'T LIKE HIM (it was about the part where we had to fight him to stop the Stellaron), but once I did Serval's companion quest, I actually started to like Gepard way more lmao He's a caring brother all things aside. He's just. Very Duty Bound. And I get it for his character (esp when you think, oh wait this is also because of the Landau name and how the name seems almost tainted by the way their FATHER IS I HATE THEIR FATHER MR LANDAU SQUARE UP 👊🏼💥👊🏼💥👊🏼💥👊🏼💥)

When it comes to Gepard, I always think about how he reflects on the day he got awarded as Captain and thinking of all the sacrifices he had to deal with to get to where he is. How offputting it felt to be awarded when so many lives got sacrificed to get here. And how he's actually had to face ghosts within the Fragmentum of former comrades in arms.

The Angst Potential Is There. I like eating it a lot. But if I think too hard about it then I just curl up on the floor like GEPAAAARD NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (mauls him even more)

...Okay so. I feel really bad....but I genuinely have no thoughts on Lynx. Like I like her! And I think in my head, when you compare to Gepard and Serval to Lynx, I feel that Lynx kinda gets the "youngest sibling treatment" within the Landaus and just gets away with doing stuff.

I think she's funny and I also think her design's ADORABLE. But that's as far as I think of her. Just as the youngest sibling of the Landaus.

I thought maybe I'd have more thoughts on her, but her companion quest got overshadowed by Pela (WHICH ISNT A BAD THING BTW I did want to get to know Pela more since I felt like I knew nothing of her), but I will say that I did kinda like how Pela's story in turn pushed Lynx to kinda accept how much Gepard and Serval love and care for her. Like yes, they can definitely stop babying her about adventuring out to dangerous areas, but Lynx learns that they both do that because the two love and care a lot for her (and maybe that's just like the counter of the upbringing of the Landaus huh? I feel that the father seems so cold only caring about the prestige of the Landau name, and in retaliation the siblings seem to create their own love for each other. And I think that's nice haha I've said this before, but when I see the Landaus, I see a lot of me and my sisters, and this is also one of those little things that reminds me of my sisters. eheh)

[astros-draws]

Got bored, littlewood minific? be upon yee.

(Obvious spoilers? I mean, I think?)

It's the my player character x Terric.

Mini summary, the evil that possessed Dark is back and possessed some other poor fool, not stated.

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

Terric, the now very well renowned captain of the army of the "city" LittleStar, being tasked with ensuring the city's protection and keeping everyone safe from the new monsters.

Some of his comrades from the previous dark lord age who also got high rankings in military were currently in the city.

- So I see you have a ring, when did you get married?- of of his siblings in arms asked.

Terric got flustered -Oh... well, it was a while a go, when LittleStar was a pretty small village-

Answer that prompted the curiosity of his comrades, one asked then -You proposed? Who was the lucky fella?-

Terric answered -W-well, they actually proposed to me, and I um...- Terric was getting redder, prompting the affectionate teasing from his old friends.

-So... where are they currently?- one inquiried.

Terric sighed -They are part of the mission to defeat the monsters in the east.... Dang it, I miss them so much-

- They are supposed to return soon, right? When they are back you better introduce them to us-

Terric laughed and answered with an of course.

After a few days a messenger communicated the return of the hero's party.

Everyone went to greet them, and with a loud -My knight!- Terric got tackled into a hugh.

To the shock of his friends.

One exclaimed "calmly"- YOU ARE MARRIED TO THE HERO AND DIDN'T TELL US????!!!- causing the hero to laugh a bit.

-So you are Terrics friends, it's nice to meet you- said Astraquius while streching her hand for a hand shake.

They were stil shocked, after all, it was the hero of solem, and their companions.

After getting themselves together and goings through introductions. The preparations started for planning an atack.

Terric, somewhat red after being peppered with kisses by his partner, and the Lordess Astraquius were explaining the plan for the attack, to try to take down the surge of monsters in the caverns.

[codstatic]

-behind his shades- (Russell Adler x fembell)

Warning: fluff, hurt/comfort,sexual encounters/activities,smut,mature themes,trust issues,past trauma, after solovetsky

(Russian would be in a different font)

Summary: After solovetsky, where Adler shot her at, but she's lives, she is in a hospital, after she recovers she moves into her best friend belikov, but a certain Clandestine special officer had gone attached and lovestruck by her, so he goes a uncover to find her,when adler does he makes it up to her.

-PART 1- (THE HOSPITAL)

After Bell was shot just below her heart by the man, she showed loyalty and trusted to be betrayed by him. So she woke up by the white noises alerting her to wake up. Bell looked at her arm to see an i.v, and she quickly looked at her stomach to see a bloodied stain bandage over where she got shot at. She sighs and lay back down, and rubs her face.

She was interrupted by a nurse coming into her room "hello miss bell, how are you feeling today" she greets "how long was I out for?" Bell asks. The nurse walks to her bed, and took out some fresh bandages.

"Well you were put in a medical dose coma for 5 days, and you were bleeding all over and about to die, so the doctor put you into a medical dose coma so you won't die.We are just glad that you made it" the nurse says as she takes bells bloodied bandage to replace with a new bandage.

"Who took me in then, all I remember I was there bleeding alone so who?" Bell says.

"Oh he is just a gentleman, he says that he is your best friend, and he is a charmer, I heard he is coming in to see you today" the nurse says by leaving bell to have some alone time. She closes her door.

Bell was just sitting trying to think who would save her, and take her to the hospital. Till her door opens to reveal Belikov walking in "hi comrade, how are you feeling" he asks as he grabs a chair and puts it beside her bed.

"Well I feel like shit, but better how it started" she says trying to get comfortable but can't because of the pain in her stomach. Belikov chuckles lightly "well I'm glad you ok bell" as he puts his hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you Dimitri" as she smiles at him.

"You're welcome bell, well I am going now, wait do you have somewhere to live bell?" As he gets up and walks to the door.

"I don't, why"

"Well when you recover, you come to my house and crash there, my wife would love you because you are sisters" he requested as he opened the door. Bell was confused "sister?" Belikov nods "yeah my wife Alina said you guys are siblings, she would love to have you there with us". Bell smiles "that be nice, I see you soon comrade".

Belikov smiles and leaves and closes her door. Bell sighs and reflects on her life with the cia safehouse; she did have fond memories of the place, but seeing Adler made her angry. "How could he just fucking shoot me, and I just help him to get Perseus and he just flew me away like shit,I'm just glad I don't have see his face" she argrily thought.

She turned to a small table beside her bed that had a clock, which said 1:00 am "wow I woke up at 12:45am". Bell lays back down and goes to sleep.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

Game of Thrones - 53 BRAN VI (pages 549-562)

Bran watches as Robb calls the banners and marches south. Osha insists they're marching the wrong way. Robb makes Bran the Lord of Winterfell before he leaves.

-

He was only a few years younger than Robb; if his brother was almost a man grown, so was he.

Appendix: House Stark- -ROBB, the heir to Winterfell, fourteen years of age -BRANDON, called Bran, seven

I see Sansa's not the only Stark sibling canonically bad at maths. (... hang on, I think we had this discussion previously...)

Hodor hummed tunelessly as he went down hand under hand, Bran bouncing against his back in the wicker seat that Maester Luwin had fashioned for him. Luwin had gotten the idea from the baskets the women used to carry firewood on their backs; after that it had been a simple matter of cutting legholes and attaching some new straps to spread Bran's weight more evenly. It was not as good as riding Dancer, but there were places Dancer could not go, and this did not shame Bran the same way it did when Hodor carried him in his arms like a baby.

Yes! Improvise, adapt, overcome! Maester Luwin returns for his MVP title! I'm really happy with how they're accommodating Bran's disability, not just accepting solutions that are given to them (Tyrion's saddle) but looking for ways to make things easier in general. The fact that this takes care of Bran's mobility and mental health as he adapts to his new conditions is just *chef's kiss*

Although ngl, I did imagine him in one of those baby carry backpacks there for a second.

Actually, what was that description back in one of Bran's first few chapters "In the older parts of the castle, the halls slanted up and down so that you couldn't even be sure which floor you were on." This actually reminded me of one of my local hospitals, because of the slope of the land, the floors are offset in places and there are ramps to accommodate that set into the hallways themselves, so you can get between a few floors by walking in a big 'circuit' rather than using stairs or elevators. If that's how those sections of the castle work, rather than being sloppy/ancient work wearing down and making the floor uneven, that might actually be kinda wheelchair friendly for Bran.

Hodor hated cold water, and would fight like a treed wildcat when threatened with soap, but he would happily immerse himself in the hottest pool and sit for hours, giving a large burp to echo the spring whenever a bubble rose from the murky green depths to break upon the surface.

Hodor is the third head of the dragon, confirmed.

...Sorry, is it too early in the year for a crack take?

All along the benches, his sons and brothers and sworn swords leapt to their feet, grabbing for their steel. Yet, Robb only said a quiet word, and in a snarl and the blink of an eye Lord Umber was on his back, his sword spinning on the floor three feet away and his hand dripping blood where Grey Wind had bitten off two fingers. ... Yet that very night, his brother came to Bran's bed chamber pale and shaken, after the fires had burned low in the Great Hall. "I thought he was going to kill me," Robb confessed. "Did you see the way he threw down Hal, like he was no bigger than Rickon? Gods, I was so scared.-"

Well, you did a good job keeping your head instead of letting all that fear and panic out into public. Some of these men are here to see what they can grab for themselves, are trying to move the fence line and steal a bit extra thinking and hoping Robb's too green to know better. But some of these folks are probably testing him because they're scared. It's one thing to go to war for your liege lord, or for a friend or comrade who you owe your loyalty, but to march under the authority of a boy who has never seen real battle, who might order a slaughter and faint at the sight of blood, who could be a coward who would pretend it was mercy and couldn't make the hard calls and keep as many people alive as possible? People are going to die in war, they all know that, but to risk trusting someone who could order them all into what should have obviously been a trap, that takes some doing. Some of this 'petty heckling' is about assuaging their own fears and making sure they can trust the guy in charge not to get them all killed on a folly.

One wine-sodden taleteller even claimed that Rhaegar Targaryen had returned from the dead and was marshaling a vast horde of ancient heroes on Dragonstone to reclaim his father's throne.

I need someone to tell Stannis that one. And film it. I wanna see how many colours he turns.

Bran: *prays to the old gods on his family's behalf* prayer receptionist old god: oh snap, I dropped my ye old coffee, sis anyone catch that prayer? no? parts if it? okay, I'll... just make my best guess. *Later* prayer receptionist old god: so that... might not have been correct.

It always hurts to see characters reaching out out higher powers and knowing their prayers won't be answered, or they won't be answered the way the want if the are.

"-But, Bran, no man can teach you magic." "The children could," Bran said. "The children of the forest." That reminded him of the promise he had made to Osha in the godswood, so he told Luwin what she had said. The maester listened politely. "The wildling woman could give Old Nan lessons in telling tales, I think," he said when things were done. "I will talk with her again if you like, but it would be best if you did not trouble your brother with the folly.-"

On the one hand, this is frustrating because for a place that likes to tout "the north remembers" they sure are quick to say it's all just made up, and not real history. On the other hand, they really don't have any reason to believe it apart from the words of people like Osha and men who've been isolated on the job so long they're bound to have gone a bit odd.

When the distant cheers had faded to silence and the yard was empty at last, Winterfell seemed desertedand dead. Bran looked around at the faces of those who remained, women and children and old men... and Hodor. The huge stableboy had a lost and frightened look to his face. "Hodor?" he said sadly. "Hodor," Bran agreed, wondering what it meant.

186 points of piercing damage, right to the feels.